Page:The Yellow Book - 07.djvu/101

 of unkempt, barbarous aspect, herding droves of swift-footed little black cattle along the narrow defiles; tall women, wholly muffled from view in huge hooded cloaks of black or scarlet, bearing burdens upon their heads, and dragging forward children by the hands; then more horses and cattle, moving under high bundles of mountain grass and bracken freshly cut, and, at the tail, a score or more of straggling men, with quilted jackets, and pikes upon their shoulders.

In front of all walked Turlogh, with his doctor and his chaplain at his side. The last vague glimmer of daylight in the evening air fell upon these three, as they felt the burnt stubble of the nearest field under their sandalled feet, and saw the black bulk of Dunbeekin loom close before them. There was doubt on the faces of the priest and the leech, but old Turlogh threw his head back, and looked into the dusky finish of the day with a smile at his lips and a resolute eye.

Hours later, in the shine of the harvest moon, the Lord of Dunbeekin stood upon the strand with a moiety of his people, and saw others of his men, wading waist-deep in the whitened waters, bear towards him in their arms his great guest, the Bishop.

Already there had come to land, by means of the little boat, some dozen priests and servants. These latter, subtle-faced and proud like all menials of the tonsured folk, held aloof in silence. Two of the younger priests, with the tails of their drenched gowns under their arms, stood at Turlogh's side, and spoke to him in whispers of strange matters. The Bishop, they said, was in the grasp of a mortal sickness. Nothing but the holy relics he brought