Tales of Our Coast

ted herself upon it as upon a throne. She had a pale fair skin, and her hair, coiled heavily in plaits upon her shoulders, was of the hue of a red harvest sun. There were jewels in this hair and upon

, and his over-large head, spoke a likeness now to his father which was not to be noted before. When, as if under the

explained to her his errand. The Spaniard, bowing himself low, sank upon one knee, and reverently kissed her hand, as Murty had seen his fa

the sweetness of a perfume in the air. 'I lived at Seville, in the old convent there, for only two years. I have no joy of remembrance now, save in

eat, rolling, midnight eyes,-and held it ther

to enthrall the hearing. Condone my error, I pray you, but I caught from Father Donatus that you were this st

ence between them. 'I am in captivity here. He is a pirate, a Goth, a murderous barbarian. He and his savages here-but of this more a little hence. I beg yo

topics of his business. The lady, moving her fingers along the beads, gleaned the

have wounded God too long! The last drop of Heavens patience is dried up by their crimes. Their Queen was not born in lawful wedlock, and the Blessed Sacram

h. 'I would not need the King of Spain to tell t

courage to live. These jewels I wear, the fabrics of my raiment, the wines on the board yonder, are all the booty of blood-stained waves down at the foot of this terrible cliff. He and his savages burn false lights, and lure sh

of this to me. The whole truth burns like fire in my heart. As my fathers gave their life blood to drive the infidel from Grenada,-so I lay my own poor life at your

ith admiration for your strength and valour. He desires deeply to know what you will be doing. When you will

or his wars. The English will be doing me no hurt. They cannot come here to me, by water or by land; and if they did I would not let any of them depart

u perhaps,-to you who were bred in the gentle graces of Spain,-but they were not the ferocious barbarians the

prophetic as well, beautiful lady! Something of this, too, the priest whispered; but the precious words

across it. I have told him-the blessed thought came to me even while we knelt at the altar together-that I am bound by a vow. His big empty head is open to all the fancies that fly. He believes that an enchanted woman drives up her horses from the bottom of the lake, down at the foot of the sma

mother, you are!' panted Don

' she recited, in Murtogh's tongue. 'He will make you of the

he King of Spain himself. I am not a MacCarthy or an O

weariness in her tone, 'to bring you costly presents. And the Pop

e silence for the thought that stirred within him,-'ask if the Holy Father would be granting j

answer till I have finished. You are the first who has come to me-here in this awful dungeon-and I have opened my heart to you as perhaps I should not. But you have the blood

r, and his breast heaved under its cuirass. He half lifted his sword from the sheath, an

urtogh. 'Whatever of a spiritual nature you

d all the long way to Rome and back,' he objecte

ttle sigh. 'It would be very sweet to believe,' she murmured, 'too sweet for sense, I fear me. Nay, Don Tello, I need not such a

ened them to behold his oath, he lifted the fingers and waved them toward her, a

ence, to Murtogh. 'Whatever wish you offered up you have it already

ady, wondering, drew herself away. He stretched his bared arms towards her, then flung them

n all the Kings on earth! It is I who have won my love! Oh, glory to the Hea

th the shining countenance who shouted with such vehemence up at the oaken roof. Turning a glance o

him in Spanish. 'He has asked th

is sword. 'Tell me quickly, what it is

ng all his face, strode to the Spaniard, and grasped his reluctant hand

e will wish, I will give it to him. And all his enemies I will slay and put down for him to walk upon. Oh, Bera, the jewel restored to me, the beautiful gem I saved from the waters, tell him these things for me! Why will your lips be so silent? Would they be waiting for my kisses to waken

he figure of his wife in the chair, motionless with clenched hands on her knees, and eyes fixed in a dazed stare upon vacancy. He turne

to the Spaniard's breast and passed it curiously over the corselet and its throat-plate a

upon something not visible. Don Tello's big eyes seemed bursting from their black-fringed sockets. His face was distorted, and he curled the fingers of his hand like stiffened talons, and cl

or put his mind to it. The bones in his arms were chilled, and would not move for him. He gazed with round eyes at Owny, and at the red dripping knife which the bard stretched out to hi

d he could not live any longer. The liathan priest, when he would be going, told this stranger that she you called your wife was your enemy, and made a mockery of you, and would give ear gladly to any means of dishonouring you. And the liathan priest spoke t

her chair, her head limp upon her shoulder, and the whiteness

in my family,' he said; 'I kn

from his girdle, and put

e buidhe, and bid them seize the liathan priest between them, and bring him to me he

d eyes, and at the sword in his father's hand.

see it all,' he said. 'I

l not call you baoth (simple) any more,' he said, fondly. 'You are my true son, and here is