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It was the only way they could get rid of such a man; but it was not an easy way, for what Fionn's father did not know in arms could not be taught to him even by Morna. Still, the hound that can wait will catch a hare at last, and even Manana'nn sleeps. Fionn's mother was beautiful, long-haired Muirne: so she is always referred to.
"It is best for you to leave us now," they said to the tall stripling, "for the sons of Morna are watching again to kill you." The woods at that may have seemed haunted. A stone might sling at one from a tree-top; but from which tree of a thousand trees did it come?
Fergus then turned to the side of Goll mac Morna, and he sang of the Forts, the Destructions, the Raids, and the Wooings of clann-Morna; and as the poems succeeded each other, Goll grew more and more jovial and contented. When the songs were finished Goll turned in his seat. "Where is my runner?" he cried. He had a woman runner, a marvel for swiftness and trust. She stepped forward.
It was not the corner which a slender-fingered woman would choose to do up her hair; nor was it the spot an ancient man would select to think quietly in, for the tumult of sword on sword, of axe on shield, the roar of the contending parties, the crying of wounded men, and the screaming of frightened women destroyed peace, and over all was the rallying cry of Goll mac Morna and the great shout of Fionn.
That finished, he left the victorious Fianna and returned swiftly to the plain of Allen, for he could not bear to be one unnecessary day parted from Saeve. "You are not leaving us!" exclaimed Goll mac Morna. "I must go," Fionn replied. "You will not desert the victory feast," Conan reproached him. "Stay with us, Chief," Caelte begged. "What is a feast without Fionn?" they complained.
I never saw a woman so beside herself with rage. She came in incoherent, and went out inarticulate! From the things she said of him, I could only guess that Mr. Steel had come upon the scene and insulted her as she deserved to be insulted. But I would give a good deal to know what did happen." "Would you really?" Morna started to her feet.
Everybody came, for a banquet given by Fionn was not a thing to be missed. There was Goll mor mac Morna and his people; Fionn's son Oisi'n and his grandson Oscar. There was Dermod of the Gay Face, Caelte mac Ronan but indeed there were too many to be told of, for all the pillars of war and battle-torches of the Gael were there. The banquet began.
In the morning a band of travelling poets were passing, and the women handed Fionn over to them. This time they could not prevent him overhearing. "The sons of Morna!" they said. And Fionn's heart might have swelled with rage, but that it was already swollen with adventure. And also the expected was happening. Behind every hour of their day and every moment of their lives lay the sons of Morna.
"As a joke!" cried Morna, with indignation; her husband was her echo both as to words and tone; but Langholm could only stare. "I must see him," he exclaimed, decisively. "By the way, once more, do you happen to know whether Mrs. Steel got a letter from me this morning, Mrs. Woodgate?" "Yes, she did," answered Morna at once.
These two encountered then, and Oscar knocked a groan of distress out of Cona'n. He looked appealingly at his brother Art og mac Morna, and that powerful champion flew to his aid and wounded Oscar. Oisi'n, Oscar's father, could not abide that; he dashed in and quelled Art Og. Then Rough Hair mac Morna wounded Oisin and was himself tumbled by mac Lugac, who was again wounded by Gara mac Morna.
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