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 and kill this enchanter? If there is I will give him lands and wealth, and to the end of his days he shall never know care or want."

All the kings and nobles and warriors looked at each other, but not a word spoke any one of them. For they remembered former years, when Aillen mac Midna had come from his secret home beyond the Boyne to Tara, and his coming had always been heralded by a sweet, slow music, which had stolen their senses from them, and left their eyelids fast closed in a faery sleep. They remembered, too, that though Conn had always on Samhain eve encircled his dun with a treble line of his bravest men, it availed him nothing, for at the sound of that distant melody they sank to the ground in a deep slumber which only the dawn-light dispelled. Now they all remained silent, while a surge of shame and anger swept over them because, for all their acknowledged skill and courage in battle, they were unable to subdue this strange enemy.

The king sighed deeply, then suddenly a clear, youthful voice rang through the hall: