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 so dark that he could not tell how he was going. Suddenly he was confronted by a tall warrior, with shining star-like eyes, and holding a lighted torch in his hand. He took the bridle of the king's horse, and led it through the wood on to the road. Then the king said to him:

"Who and what are you?"

"I am the candle-holder of the king," the stranger replied.

"I think," said the king, "the two gentle eyes of Caeilté shine in the holder."

"It is a true word you have spoken," said the warrior, smiling, and disappeared.

The old stories do not say that Caeilté appeared any more among men. But perhaps, some summer evening when the late dusk is falling over hill and plain and the cockchafers are beginning their curious droning flight, if you or I, or others who love these ancient heroic stories, happen to be in that part of Donegal where the Hill of Assaroe is, Caeilté may come forth from his secret home of enchantment, his tall spear in his hand, and his eyes shining with a gentle and chivalrous