\
 
 THE REBEL LADY
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 GEOFFREY CHERITON 
 THE PRINCES VALET 
 EVE IN EARNEST 
 A QUEEN OF CASTAWAYS 
 ETC. ETC.
 
 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN BARNETT 
 
 Xonfcon 
 NISBET & GO. LTD. 
 
 22 BERNERS STREET, W.
 
 First Published in /0/y
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. How SHE SCHOOLED TRAITORS i 
 
 II. STRANGE GIFTS OF CATTLE . . 23 
 
 III. A DEATH CHASE AMONG THE ISLANDS . 42 
 
 IV. A STRANGE AND PRECIOUS HOSTAGE . . 63 
 V. GRANA MEETS ONE PROUDER THAN HERSELF 84 
 
 VI. GRANA SPEAKS WITH HER MASTER IN THE 
 
 DAWN 105 
 
 VII. AFTER FOUR YEARS 125 
 
 VIII. THE JEALOUSY OF FERRALL O'DOWDE . 135 
 
 IX. HOW DOMHNALL WAS BROUGHT TO BAY . 147 
 
 X. How GRANA TOOK SWORD ONCE MORE . 155 
 
 XI. IN THE SHADOW OF THE SCAFFOLD . .170 
 
 XII. How PHELIM CHEATED THE AXE . .188 
 
 XIII. How GRANA WON TO KILDOWNET AND TO 
 
 CRUEL NEWS 200 
 
 XIV. How MOTHER SPOKE WITH MOTHER. . 212 
 
 XV. How AN ODD PRISONER WAS BROUGHT TO 
 
 MY LORD ESSEX . . . . .220 
 vii 
 
 20G0718
 
 viii CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XVI. MY LORD ESSEX is SHAMED . . .227 
 
 XVII, HOW DOMHNALL LOOKED UPON AN EMPTY 
 
 SEA . 241 
 
 XVIII. WHICH TELLS OF THE "RED HORSE'S" 
 
 LAST FIGHT 257 
 
 XIX. How ESSEX CAME TO COURT ONCE MORE 270 
 
 XX. WHICH TELLS OF A SMALL MILITANT 
 
 PARSON 284 
 
 XXL How GRANA MET A FAMED SEA KING . 293 
 
 XXII. How GRANA SPOKE WITH THE GREATEST 
 
 LADY IN THE WORLD . . . .310 
 
 XXIII. WHICH TELLS HOW A GREAT GAMBLER 
 
 PLAYED AND LOST .... 326 
 
 XXIV. WHICH TELLS OF THE GREAT QUEEN'S 
 
 ENVY 335
 
 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 HOW SHE SCHOOLED TRAITORS 
 
 THE sun was setting. Its red light gleamed 
 across the grey waves and wrapped in 
 ruddy flame the grey castle that stood 
 upon their verge. It streamed through a narrow 
 window into a lofty chamber, and lit up the bold, 
 harsh face of the man who lay there dying. 
 
 That man was Dubhdara, chief of the O'Malleys. 
 He was little more than forty years of age ; but he 
 was dying, none the less. Life was cheap through- 
 out the world in the days when Elizabeth's jewelled, 
 masterful fingers gripped the sceptre of England, 
 and cheapest of all, perhaps, in stormy Ireland. 
 
 And the trade that Dubhdara had practised has 
 never been conducive to long years. Sea-pirate and 
 land-raider, rebel and outlaw from his boyhood, 
 he had met his death-wound at last in a wild foray, 
 and had been carried home to die in his castle of 
 Kildownet upon Achill Sound. He had no son, and he 
 must leave his only daughter to stand or fall alone. 
 
 Two people a man and a young woman 
 watched beside his bed. The man's dress of rudest 
 motley proclaimed his calling.
 
 2 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 In those days the court of every petty Irish 
 chieftain boasted its fool. But this man was some- 
 thing else besides a half-crazy humorist. His long, 
 lean face could be absurd enough beneath the belled 
 cap ; but there was vast strength in his gaunt, 
 lengthy frame, and in the long arms whose hands 
 reached almost to his knees. 
 
 When the yelling boarders rose above the bul- 
 warks as the ships locked close together, hurling 
 the spray between their grinding quarters, then a 
 hot fighting devil drove out the folly from the heart 
 of Bryan Teige. 
 
 His long arms and sword were swift and deadly 
 as the forked flicker of the lightning, and it was 
 he who had cleared a ring about Dubhdara and 
 brought him still living from, his last great fight. 
 His lean, craggy face was grave and haggard now, 
 and his eyes rarely wandered from his master's face. 
 
 Dubhdara roused himself as from stupor and 
 stretched out his hand to Bryan Teige. The fool 
 dropped upon his knees and carried it to his lips 
 with wet eyes. Then his master motioned that he 
 should leave the chamber, and when alone father 
 and daughter looked each other in the eyes. 
 
 " For me it ends in a little while, Grana," Dubh- 
 dara said feebly. " But what of you ? " 
 
 " I shall do well, father," Grana answered. 
 " Your people love me." 
 
 " They are a restive team," Dubhdara muttered. 
 " And Red Donell may clutch at the reins now ! " 
 
 Grana's lips tightened and there came a curious 
 light into her eyes. 
 
 " It may be that I shall master him/' she said.
 
 HOW SHE SCHOOLED TRAITORS 3 
 
 " I would that you were wed, daughter of mine," 
 Dubhdara murmured. " But remember always, if 
 your strait is sore, aid may be bought from Mur- 
 rough of the Axes with yon necklace." 
 
 And he motioned feebly with his hand toward an 
 oaken chest in a corner of the room. 
 
 " I will remember, father," Grana answered, and 
 a chill came to her heart as she marked the change 
 in her father's face. 
 
 And then in a little while Dubhdara ceased to 
 know her, and muttered wildly of sword work and 
 the reeling, slippery decks. 
 
 " Bryan brave lad ! " he whispered. " But you 
 come too late too late ! " Then for a space he 
 lay silent until he passed into the great silence. 
 
 I would have you look closely at the girl of twenty 
 who kneels beside the bed, into whose hands has 
 passed a doubtful and stormy heritage of power. 
 She is worth your notice. She is forgotten to-day 
 except in peasant hearts, but here, perhaps, is one 
 of the extraordinary women of the world. 
 
 A woman whom Fate restricted to a petty stage, 
 but who might have ruled a kingdom. A woman 
 who mastered men, whom men followed because 
 she was stronger, bolder, and more daring than 
 themselves. 
 
 A woman, as I fancy, of wit and charm, who 
 bound men to her as no man could ever do, by the 
 mysterious force of her womanhood. A woman 
 but, as she knelt that evening, her path was all 
 before her, her fame was yet unwon, and I shall 
 strive to show you how she clutched at power. 
 
 She was tall and lithe and graceful, so that you
 
 4 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 had not guessed her sinewy strength. Her long hair 
 was a vivid, lustrous black, that in certain lights 
 had the blue-black gleam of violets. Her face was 
 delicately tanned by the sea winds, and was per- 
 haps too strong for perfect beauty. 
 
 And yet in its splendid, unconquered arrogance 
 it had the beauty of a free forest creature a lioness 
 untamed. Her mouth was red against the soft gold 
 of her face, and could be many things. Her eyes 
 were darkest grey, and as yet she scarcely knew their 
 power. At that moment they were strangely gentle. 
 And there you have a poor picture of Grana O'Malley 
 of Achill, whose fame lives yet upon faithful 
 peasant lips. 
 
 The light had not yet faded from the west when 
 Grana was roused from her mourning by the entrance 
 of Bryan Teige. He glided almost noiselessly into 
 the chamber, and there was that in his face which 
 brought his mistress swiftly to her feet. 
 
 " My news is bad, lady," he said. " Red Donell 
 has gathered the men in the great hall. I have been 
 listening to their talk from the narrow passage. 
 Donell does not yet know that my lord is dead. 
 He waits only that to proclaim himself master of 
 the castle." 
 
 Grana's eyes were gleaming from her white face. 
 She had the power to put away grief and all lesser 
 things at the call of her ambition. For that was 
 the master instinct of her nature. 
 
 " Red Donell will find that he has to reckon with 
 me ! " she said proudly. " I will go down straight- 
 way to the hall 
 
 But the fool put up his gnarled hand.
 
 HOW SHE SCHOOLED TRAITORS 5 
 
 " You will do well to hearken before you act, 
 lady," he said soberly. " Donell waits only for you 
 to bear the tidings of your father's death to the 
 hall. The men will obey him he has been working 
 long for this. He has made a plan whereby he can 
 win over all who love you. It is in his mind to take 
 you for wife ! " 
 
 Grana glared at the fool for a long moment, and 
 then her face flushed royally. 
 
 " Oh, but the knave is insolent ! " she whispered, 
 and her knuckles gleamed white as she clenched 
 her hands. " I I to wed such as he ! I will go 
 down " 
 
 " You must not go ! " Bryan Teige said firmly. 
 " He has persuaded the men that it were shame to 
 obey a woman. If you go down you will but be a 
 prisoner until you obey his will. Nay, if you must 
 be wilful, I pray you at least to hearken to their 
 talk ere you trust yourself among them." 
 
 Grana hesitated for a moment, and then the 
 strong cunning prudence that seldom failed her 
 showed her the wisdom of the advice. She drew a 
 long cloak about her and followed the gaunt man in 
 motley from the chamber. 
 
 Down a narrow, winding staircase and along a 
 dark passage they glided, until Bryan Teige raised 
 his hand and they halted. They were at a small, 
 little-used doorway that led into the great feasting 
 hall of the castle. From within there came a roar 
 of voices and a clash of tankards, and under cover 
 of the din the fool slid open the door a bare inch 
 or so. 
 
 Grana was at his side, and, as she waited, suddenly
 
 6 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 the uproar lessened, and there were cries of 
 " Donell ! Donell ! Silence for Red Donell ! " Out 
 of the hush that followed there bellowed a single 
 voice, hoarse with wine and with the triumph of 
 a long cunning hope that seemed about to be 
 fulfilled. 
 
 And the face of Grana O'Malley slowly whitened, 
 but not with fear, as she listened. She heard her 
 own name and certain matters in full detail ; but 
 what she heard shall not be set down here. The 
 times were frank and brutal and outspoken. But 
 Grana laughed softly, with white lips. 
 
 She touched Bryan Teige's shoulder at last, and 
 they crept up to the chamber as noiselessly as 
 they had come. Then she spoke, coolly, without 
 panic. 
 
 " You were right," she said. " Now what may 
 be done ? " 
 
 Bryan Teige had been thinking, and his fool's 
 wits could at times be keen enough. 
 
 " You heard him ? " he said. " He will be coming 
 up here anon to speak with you. My plan is that 
 we wait for him you and I. As he speaks with 
 you, I will deal with him from behind without 
 noise. The keys of the castle are at his belt. 
 We shall win forth to a boat, and afterward it 
 may be that Murrough O' Flaherty will give you 
 shelter." 
 
 Grana thought for a while, and then she 
 nodded. 
 
 " Not shelter, but aid," she said. " I will buy 
 aid^from him with which I may school these sorry 
 traitors. Now we will wait. But mark you you
 
 HOW SHE SCHOOLED TRAITORS 7 
 
 are not to kill Red Donell when he comes ! I would 
 have him live until I come again ! " 
 
 And Bryan Teige understood that it was scarcely 
 mercy that had prompted the command. 
 
 Then, in a tense silence, they waited for perhaps 
 half an hour, until they heard a lurching, heavy 
 step upon the stone stairway. Red Donell was 
 coming to press his suit. Bryan Teige slipped 
 quietly behind the door, and Grana kept her stand 
 in the middle of the room before her father's couch. 
 
 She did not tremble as she waited ; it was not 
 her way when danger pressed. But her long hands 
 were clenched and her teeth pressed hard upon her 
 lower lip. So Red Donell found her standing when 
 he pushed open the door. 
 
 It should be remembered that this man loved her 
 in his own fashion. The fact lends a certain 
 piquancy to his later life. He was a huge, brawny 
 man with a great shock of red, tangled hair. His 
 coarse face flushed more deeply, and his small, 
 blue eyes began to glitter as for a minute he gazed 
 upon the gracious figure of his dead master's 
 daughter. Then he flung a glance at the still form 
 upon the bed at the man whose iron hand had 
 loosed its grip upon his men at last. 
 
 " So he is dead ! " he muttered. " Good sleep 
 to him for a stout fighter ! It is an ill moment for 
 wooing, maybe, but time presses ! My lady, will 
 you hearken " 
 
 " What is it you want ? " Grana asked. Her eyes 
 were set steadily upon his face. They gave no sign 
 to him of what they saw beyond. 
 
 Bryan Teige had slid from his hiding-place and
 
 8 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 was creeping inch by inch upon the red-haired giant. 
 In his right hand he gripped a small, evil club. 
 Red Donell was flushed with wine and had lost the 
 courtesy that is habitual to his race. But for that 
 he had scarcely forgotten the dead man. 
 
 " It is you whom I want, Grana ! " he said thickly. 
 " With you for wife, I will do great things. When 
 will you wed me, my dark beauty ? " 
 
 Grana's eyes flickered. Bryan Teige had raised 
 his arm. 
 
 " Wed you ? " she said, with fierce disgust and 
 loathing. " Never never ! " 
 
 And then the little club crashed down. Red 
 Donell threw up his arms with a thick gasp, and 
 Bryan Teige caught him as he collapsed. 
 
 The fool was swift. Within two minutes the sense- 
 less man was securely gagged and bound. Grana 
 stood above him, and her white face was cruel. 
 
 " I will speak with you at length when I come 
 again ! " she muttered, and she smiled. 
 
 " Our time is short, lady ! " Bryan Teige mur- 
 mured uneasily, and Grana turned from the uncon- 
 scious man. She knew that the fool's terrors were 
 on her behalf alone. For himself, he had asked no 
 better than to hold the narrow stairway for a little 
 while against the forty men below. They called 
 him the death-seeker, and it was a marvel that his 
 search had so long been vain. 
 
 Grana went swiftly to the oaken chest and drew 
 from it something that shimmered strangely in the 
 dull red light. It was a diamond necklace of great 
 price, a part of the spoil from a luckless, storm- 
 driven Spanish galleon.
 
 HOW SHE SCHOOLED TRAITORS 9 
 
 Grana hid it in her breast and threw the long, 
 dark cloak about her. Then she knelt for a moment 
 beside her father. As she rose she caught sight of 
 his jewelled dagger by the bed and thrust it beneath 
 her cloak. 
 
 She was not minded to fall living into Red 
 Donell's hands. Then she signed to Bryan Teige 
 to lead the way. The fool threw one glance at his 
 master and they left the chamber. 
 
 When they were level with the hall where the 
 men still revelled, waiting for their leader, Grana 
 halted for a moment. She had it in her mind to 
 go into their midst and strive to win them to her. 
 It hurt her pride sorely to slink in this fashion from 
 the castle that was hers by right. But she was 
 untested in those days. She had yet to learn the 
 strange power that she could wield upon men's 
 hearts. And so she moved forward again behind 
 the impatient fool. 
 
 He led her along a narrow passage to a small 
 postern gate. This he unlocked with a key from 
 the bunch that Red Donell had carried at his 
 belt. 
 
 " There should be a plank here, lady," he mut- 
 tered. " If not, we may have to swim the moat. 
 At any moment they may seek that red-haired 
 swine." 
 
 The dusk was thickening around them, and for 
 a while he sought in vain. Then, just as he laid his 
 hands upon the plank with a low grunt of satisfac- 
 tion, they heard an exclamation. A warder was 
 standing in the doorway behind them with amaze- 
 ment in his eyes. For a moment he gazed, and
 
 10 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 then, as Bryan Teige sprang toward him, he vanished 
 swiftly. 
 
 " Quick, lady ! " the fool muttered, throwing the 
 plank across the moat. " The whole pack will be 
 upon us now ! " 
 
 He spoke truth. As in turn they crossed the 
 bending plank they heard a sudden uproar and the 
 patter of feet. Men were thundering up the stair- 
 way to find Red Donell and learn the meaning of 
 these strange doings. 
 
 There was little time indeed. Bryan Teige 
 caught Grana's hand in his, and together they ran 
 toward the beach. 
 
 Two upturned coracles were lying side by side. 
 Bryan Teige slashed with his long knife at the skin 
 covering of one, and then threw his wiry arms about 
 the other and half dragged, half carried it toward 
 the water. 
 
 The darkness was falling ; and if they might but 
 win a short start it would go hard with them if they 
 could not evade pursuit. Grana aided him as best 
 she could, but as they got the coracle afloat the 
 drawbridge rattled down and a band of howling 
 men broke from the castle. 
 
 There was a yell of triumph as they saw the 
 fugitives. In the forefront of the pursuit reeled Red 
 Donell with blood upon his face. But Bryan Teige's 
 oars were out and the coracle was leaping from the 
 land. 
 
 Some of the pursuers ran down the other coracle, 
 and there were fresh howls of rage as she filled and 
 sank within a few yards of the shore. Red Donell, 
 stamping with rage, bade other boats be dragged
 
 HOW SHE SCHOOLED TRAITORS 11 
 
 down, and called upon such of his men as bore 
 arquebuses to cripple the fool. The coracle was 
 fifty yards away by now, and Bryan Teige was 
 straining at the oars. 
 
 Grana was seated at the stern. She glanced 
 back as the arquebuses roared and their red flames 
 pierced the gloom. Then she rose to her feet in the 
 swaying boat, entirely careless of a ball that ripped 
 her cloak, and she waved her hands towards the 
 dim figures on the shore. 
 
 " I will come back ! " she promised. " Oh, I will 
 surely come again ! " I would show you how she 
 kept that pledge. 
 
 Murrough O'Flaherty sat above his wine in the 
 hall of his castle. All about him was a certain 
 plentiful comfort and rude state. He was a large- 
 boned man of five-and-thirty, with a long face that 
 was made sinister by a white scar that ran from eye 
 to jaw. Men called him " Murrough of the Axes," 
 in memory of a certain famous fight in which, at the 
 head of a small body of men armed only with battle- 
 axes, he had made red slaughter. 
 
 He was a man of some genial humour and ability, 
 and he was received in later years at the court of 
 the great English queen. But at this time the 
 Lord Deputy of Connaught would have paid large 
 sums for the sight of his dead body. 
 
 Word was brought to him that two strangers 
 sought admission, and he bade his servants bring 
 them to his presence. And Murrough O'Flaherty 
 opened wide his eyes in wonder as he saw come down 
 the hall toward him a tall, graceful woman wrapped
 
 12 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 in a dark cloak, and behind her a gaunt man clad 
 in ragged motley, with a huge, trailing sword 
 strapped to his thigh. 
 
 " A woman and a fool ! " he cried, and he lay 
 back upon his bench prepared for entertainment. 
 "By St. Patrick, you will seldom find the first 
 without the second in attendance ! " 
 
 But when the woman drew aside her cloak and 
 showed her proud, lovely face, Murrough of the 
 Axes sprang swiftly to his feet. He had ever a 
 courteous welcome for beauty. It was his weak- 
 ness. 
 
 " I pray you to take seat upon our high bench, 
 lady," he said. " It is not fitting that you stand 
 before us." 
 
 But Grana O'Malley shook her head. 
 
 " I will stand before you, sir," she answered, 
 " for I come to seek a boon. I am the daughter of 
 Dubhdara O'Malley." 
 
 Murrough sank back upon his bench in wonder. 
 
 " Then what do you here ? " he asked, and his 
 face darkened. " I have a score against the chief of 
 the O'Malleys. There was a little matter touching 
 a certain necklace the cream of the plunder of 
 a Spanish galleon. Dubhdara treated me ill." 
 
 " Dubhdara is dead," answered Dubhdara's 
 daughter. 
 
 Murrough's face changed. 
 
 " Death closes all scores," he said, and then he 
 frowned and added : " But I am yet sore about 
 the brave necklace." 
 
 " It shall be yours," said Grana, " if you will 
 grant me my boon."
 
 HOW SHE SCHOOLED TRAITORS 13 
 
 " What is it that you seek ? " Murrough asked 
 curiously. 
 
 " I need a trading ship and thirty or forty fighting 
 men," Grana answered. " My father's castle is in 
 the hands of traitors, and I would school them back 
 to honesty." 
 
 She clenched her long hands, and her eyes shone 
 strangely. " Oh, but I am hungry to begin that 
 schooling ! " she muttered. 
 
 Murrough was looking upon her beauty with 
 dangerous pleasure. The joint in his harness has 
 been indicated. 
 
 " I am minded to serve you, lady," he said softly. 
 " You shall sail upon Murrough's own war-ship, 
 and you shall watch him school your unruly hounds." 
 
 But Grana shook her head for the second time. 
 The chief of the Flahertys was ambitious, and it 
 would doubtless be hard to move him if once he 
 won a footing within Kildownet Castle. And the 
 proposal presented other dangers. But in her 
 answer she did not touch upon these fears. 
 
 " I thank you, Murrough of the Axes," she said 
 frankly. " But I may not accept your generous offer. 
 I need only a trading ship, as old and crazy as you 
 will, and for the rest the schooling must be done by 
 myself and none other if I am to wipe out my shame." 
 
 Murrough was vexed and puzzled. 
 
 " You need only a crazy trader ? " he asked, and 
 then he laughed aloud. " So I am to entrust a ship 
 and men to the leadership of a girl and a fool ? " 
 he asked mockingly. " It is little to be thought of, 
 lady ! " 
 
 Grana flushed dangerously.
 
 14 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " I and this man beside me will find a way to 
 discipline your men," she answered very quietly. 
 " He wears fool's clothes, but some few have heard 
 of Bryan Teige of the long sword. Yet it may be 
 that his fame has not reached to these these wilds. 
 Then choose a champion of your best, Murrough of 
 the Axes, and this fool of mine shall prove his 
 swordsmanship . ' ' 
 
 But Murrough smiled and looked with interest 
 at Bryan. 
 
 " Nay, there is no need, lady," he said courteously. 
 "I, even in these barbarous wilds, have heard of 
 Bryan Teige the death-seeker. By the Red Steel, 
 he is too good a man to wear the motley ! " And 
 then in his Irish vanity he added : "I have no 
 champion to waste upon him, and for myself, it 
 were not fitting that I should slay a guest ! " 
 
 Grana did not smile at the boast, and the face of 
 Bryan Teige was like scarred granite. 
 
 " Then, will you grant my boon, Murrough ? " 
 Grana asked. " The necklace shall be yours, and, 
 if the saints are kind, your men and ship shall 
 return to you unscathed in a little while." 
 
 " Where is the necklace ? Do you bear it with 
 you, lady ? " Murrough asked carelessly. 
 
 Now, Grana in after years was called the Fox, 
 because she had ever two roads to safety. She had 
 buried the necklace upon the shore before ever she 
 trusted herself in Murrough's power. 
 
 " Nay, Murrough," she answered as carelessly as 
 he had spoken. " It is in a certain place of safety. 
 When I am aboard your ship that hiding-place 
 shall surely be told to you."
 
 HOW SHE SCHOOLED TRAITORS 15 
 
 Murrough of the Axes laughed. It is possible 
 that he would not have robbed his guest even had 
 it been in his power to do so. All things are 
 possible. 
 
 " You shall have your ship and men, lady," he 
 promised. " Within a day they shall be at your 
 orders, and in the meanwhile Margaret, my wife, 
 will be honoured to extend her hospitality to such 
 a guest." 
 
 For a week there had been wild revelry within 
 Kildownet Castle. Red Donell had celebrated his 
 accession to power by a drinking bout of amazing 
 length. He had also been fain to drown his sorrow 
 for the loss of his fair bride. 
 
 But even in those wild, deep-drinking days there 
 were limits to men's capacity for liquor. Wherefore 
 the watcher from the hills, all agog with news, was 
 well received by the dissipated leader and his 
 garrison. 
 
 " A trading ship under easy sail in sight ! " Red 
 Donell roared. " Here is the best of news, for we 
 are in need of work. Up, lads, and dip your heads 
 in water, and then, hey for plunder and gay fight- 
 ing ! " 
 
 Then was there noise and bustle as men, with 
 red eyes and shaking hands, prepared themselves 
 for sea. A dozen were left, sorely against their will, 
 to garrison the castle, and the remaining thirty 
 pulled out in crowded coracles to where the " Red 
 Horse " lay at anchor. Her speed and seaworthi- 
 ness had made her famous and the terror of those 
 seas, and she had been the very apple of Dubhdara's 
 eyes.
 
 16 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Every foot of Achill Sound was known to these 
 sea raiders. The fierce tides that make it a menace 
 to other seamen had no perils for them. And from 
 it they could swoop forth either into Blacksod Bay 
 on the north or Clew Bay to the south. No pirates 
 in the world had ever a snugger lurking-place. 
 
 A light wind was blowing, and behind them the 
 gaunt black head of Slievemore was clear of mist 
 as they slid out into Clew Bay. Red Donell, 
 standing beside the helmsman, peered through his 
 huge hairy hands at the hapless trader. 
 
 " She is a rich merchant ship from the south 
 swept hither by a gale, like enough," he muttered. 
 " It will be but a poor fight, lads, I fear. Now that 
 she has seen us, there are but a dozen hands on 
 deck. The rest will be rotten with scurvy. Ah, 
 they would run from us, but she will be lucky if 
 she has the heels of the ' Red Horse ' ! " 
 
 And indeed the long, evil craft swept down upon 
 the fleeing clumsy trader like an eagle upon a 
 heron. Three feet she sailed to the other's one, and 
 in a little while Red Donell made out, to his amaze- 
 ment, that his boarders need expect no resistance. 
 
 A peaceful surrender was a folly little practised 
 in those wild days even by the most helpless trader. 
 Her crew would defend their decks like wildcats, 
 for well they knew what scanty measure of mercy 
 would be theirs. But upon this ship the few hands 
 were running to and fro as in wild panic, and one 
 was waving a white cloth in a pitiful attempt to win 
 quarter by surrender. 
 
 Red Donell's men growled like wolves disap- 
 pointed of a bone, and as the " Red Horse " drove
 
 HOW SHE SCHOOLED TRAITORS 17 
 
 alongside the trader they prepared in leisurely 
 fashion to avenge their disappointment. 
 
 They cast their grapnels fore and aft securely, 
 and then in straggling order boarded their easy 
 prize. The crew could be cut down or held as serfs. 
 But all the saints in heaven and some few devils ! 
 what was this ? From beneath a sail upon the 
 deck and from the open hatches had burst a yelling 
 wave of men, a torrent of mad fighters ! 
 
 Here were no panic-stricken sailors. Saving 
 their leaders, they were armed to a man with heavy 
 axes, even the dozen terrified hands who had been 
 visible had caught up like weapons and had joined 
 the rush. They were led by a lean giant of a man 
 whose sword-sweep seemed scarcely human, and 
 by a woman dear saints and devils, a woman ! 
 who handled sword and shield like any fighter. 
 
 The surprise was murderous and complete. Red 
 Donell, brave as any bull, roared to his men to 
 rally, but half of them were down before that first 
 charge. The others were swirled backward to the 
 " Red Horse," but never a chance had they to 
 slash loose the grapnels. The raging axemen were 
 still with them, and they sullenly made ready to 
 die with fierceness. But then the woman, high 
 upon the bulwarks, intervened. 
 
 " Throw down your arms ! " she cried in a clear, 
 compelling voice that they remembered. " It may 
 be that you have learned your lesson. I give you 
 life all save your leader ! And he shall not die 
 yet ! " 
 
 For a moment Red Donell leaned, sweating, upon 
 his sword in despair. So this was Grana the girl 
 c
 
 18 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 he had deposed so easily, the bride he had hoped 
 to win ! And his men were beaten. 
 
 All around him they were dropping their weapons 
 and clutching at this chance for life. But that 
 mercy was not for him ! He was to die later by 
 torture, like enough, as an example ! 
 
 Red Donell swung up his heavy sword and ran 
 with a mad roar at the man in ragged motley. As 
 he came Bryan Teige stepped deftly upon one side, 
 and the flat of his long sword descended with 
 crushing force upon Red Donell's head. When he 
 regained his senses he was propped against the 
 mast, bound hand and foot, and side by side the 
 two vessels were entering Achill Sound. 
 
 Grana, as usual, had laid her plans with cunning. 
 Only a dozen men were in the castle, but if the alarm 
 were raised they could hold it with ease against 
 four times their number. 
 
 Both ships were now being handled by the cowed 
 and disarmed prisoners, and there was nothing to 
 show the change of masters that had taken place. 
 Grana herself was invisible, the wounded were in 
 the holds, and Red Donell was dragged below before 
 the ships rasped alongside the little jetty of rough 
 stone. 
 
 The garrison were gathered upon the battlements, 
 peering through the thick twilight at the prize. 
 
 " All's well ! " was shouted from the " Red Horse " 
 in answer to their eager hails, and then the draw- 
 bridge fell amid a howl of joy. Almost before it 
 crashed into place a score of armed men set foot 
 upon it, and the gateway, and then the castle, 
 were in their hands without a struggle.
 
 HOW SHE SCHOOLED TRAITORS 19 
 
 The garrison learned with horror and stupefaction 
 that their lady had returned. An hour later Grana 
 spoke to her people. The gloomy twilight of the 
 castle yard was lit by flickering, smoking torches, 
 and she stood in the middle with Bryan Teige 
 beside her. 
 
 At her back were the axemen she had borrowed 
 from Murrough O' Flaherty, and before her were 
 ranged the garrison and the survivors of those who 
 had manned the " Red Horse." They were sulky 
 and afraid, not knowing what would be their fate. 
 
 Alone by himself stood Red Donell, with bound 
 arms, upon his face wild, stubborn anger and no 
 sign of fear. 
 
 Grana was richly clad in a robe of dark crimson 
 silk and about her neck there gleamed a torque of 
 ruddy gold. Her face with its flush of triumph and 
 dark, splendid eyes was good to see in the glinting 
 torchlight. It was never her habit to neglect her 
 advantages. 
 
 " I have kept my promise I have come back to 
 you, my friends ! " she said, and her voice was 
 gentle and her eyes were mocking. 
 
 " Weak woman as I am, I have kept my word. 
 Aye, and these brave men behind me, who have 
 served me well, will tell you that Grana can dis- 
 cipline her following ! " 
 
 Whereat there was half-unwilling laughter among 
 the axemen. It would seem that at first Murrough's 
 men had had grave scruples concerning obedience 
 to a woman. 
 
 " This man," Grana continued, pointing with 
 her hand toward Red Donell " this man is but a
 
 20 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 bungler ! He has permitted me to outwit him with 
 scarce an effort. He was your leader, and it is 
 not good to follow one who bungles. We will put 
 him away we will put him away ! " 
 
 She paused and glanced at her fallen rival, as 
 though she would have had him plead for pity. 
 But in the torchlight his face was like a stone. 
 
 " I will give you another leader in his place. 
 Indeed, you are but as blundering, foolish children ! 
 How may you endure, between the ever-encroaching 
 English and the strong coast tribes, without one 
 with wit to spy out a path for you ? Will you follow 
 me, will you obey me, if I am merciful and forget 
 your treachery ? " 
 
 They are easily turned and easily led, the Irish, 
 by clever words and a brave heart and a fair face. 
 They answered this woman now with a roar of joy 
 they who had been ready a while before to hunt her 
 to her death and they surged in upon her to clasp 
 and kiss her hands. 
 
 She drew her gown scornfully from their touch, 
 although her eyes were bright with triumph, and 
 Bryan Teige beat away the throng from before her 
 with the flat of his sword. The fool at least had 
 not forgotten their flight from the castle. 
 
 "It is well," Grana said as they slunk back. 
 " Obey me, and I will give you gold and plunder 
 and work that shall keep cool your blood. Aye, 
 and you shall give me the power for which I crave ! 
 But woe to you if you fail me, if I meet treachery or 
 cowardice ! I will punish you with whips of steel 
 aye, I will give you a lesson now how a woman may 
 make herself obeyed ! "
 
 HOW SHE SCHOOLED TRAITORS 21 
 
 She tossed out her hand toward Red Donell. 
 
 " That man dared to rise against me in my 
 trouble when he dreamed that the one strong hand 
 that shielded me was gone. My father had ever 
 used him generously, and yet he dared to plot 
 against my father's daughter ! He shall be a warning 
 a grim warning to you all. For two days the 
 eagles yonder shall have no flesh, and then, still 
 bound, he shall be thrust into their cage ! " 
 
 Behind the bars of' an enclosure there brooded 
 four great mountain eagles. None might tame 
 them ; they sat ever gazing with fierce yellow eyes 
 toward the wild hills that had once been their 
 home. A shudder ran through even that careless 
 throng as they listened to their leader's fate. 
 
 But Red Donell laughed out loud and long. 
 
 " I thank you, Grana O'Malley ! " he cried. " I 
 seek no mercy at your white hands. I would have 
 tamed you royally if I had got you in my clutch, 
 and now it is fitting that you should wreak your 
 will upon me. But, oh, I would that I had not 
 failed ! " 
 
 And Grana turned and looked upon him curiously. 
 All her life through she loved courage fierce, wild 
 courage that could laugh in the very grip of death. 
 She had hated this man savagely, passionately ; 
 but now as he defied her, even in his despair, her 
 mood changed. She was a woman, and not cruel 
 by nature. 
 
 " Cut loose his arms ! " she ordered suddenly, 
 and it was done. 
 
 Then, as the man gazed at her in stupid wonder, 
 she spoke again. " I have a liking for valour, Red
 
 22 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Donell," she said coldly, " and it is not fit that 
 it should be wasted. Now shall you live, and, more, 
 I give you a choice. You have dared in your mad 
 insolence to claim me for your wife. 
 
 " Now, if you will, you may dwell on here as my 
 servant, knowing that I am never for you, racking 
 your heart with vain, hopeless longing, or you may 
 go forth free with your sword beside you. It is for 
 you to choose." 
 
 Red Donell stared at her in silence, taking in 
 the royally careless generosity of her words. 
 
 Then suddenly he staggered forward, and he 
 knelt before her and he touched her robe with his 
 hot lips. 
 
 " Lady, I will serve you to the death ! " he 
 muttered hoarsely. And that was how Grana of 
 Achill came to her own.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 STRANGE GIFTS OF CATTLE 
 
 MURROUGH O'FLAHERTY of the Axes 
 was angered. It must be admitted, regret- 
 fully, that he had cause. It may be remem- 
 bered that Grana had borrowed from him a ship 
 and a handful of axemen, paying for the loan with a 
 certain necklace of price. 
 
 But when their work was done, when Grana 's 
 rebellious people had been persuaded back to their 
 allegiance, the axemen had shown no longing to 
 return to Murrough's service. Grana had caught 
 their hearts as was Grana's habit when men dealt 
 with her ; Grana seemed to them a most desirable 
 mistress and leader, who would be likely to provide 
 good plunder and gay fighting. 
 
 Murrough was well enough, but this reckless 
 lady with the bright eyes and splendid hair had 
 witched them once for all. Wherefore they sent 
 word to Murrough with all courtesy that he would 
 see them no more. 
 
 But Murrough of the Axes had other views. He 
 was angered with his faithless men, but with Grana 
 herself he was more furious. It is not suggested 
 that she was blameless in the matter. 
 
 Grana, in fact, should have been born a queen. 
 23
 
 24 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 All through her long life her notions concerning 
 property were so superbly lax. If she desired a 
 thing she made it her business to obtain it. She 
 desired these axemen, her ambitions being large 
 and her following scanty, and so she did not send 
 them back to their liege lord. 
 
 And in due course she received a curt message 
 from Murrough of the Axes, intimating that he 
 proposed to pay a visit, not of courtesy, to Kildownet 
 Castle. He added that it had long appeared to him 
 to be a desirable place of residence. 
 
 Grana fully understood the message. It spelled 
 fighting. To warfare itself she had no sort of objec- 
 tion, but at the moment she was scarcely prepared 
 for it. Murrough of the Axes could put three 
 hundred men into the field ; she herself had barely 
 seventy. 
 
 And as it chanced there were other complications. 
 She thought for a while when she had dismissed the 
 ragged, wild-eyed kern who had acted as Murrough's 
 herald, and then she summoned to her chamber 
 Bryan Teige and Red Donell. 
 
 It was evening, and they came to her from the 
 castle hall. Stranger servants, it may be, no mistress 
 ever had. Red Donell loved her in his own fierce 
 fashion, as has been told, and had striven to win her 
 by force. 
 
 She had humbled him to the very ground, had 
 dangled a cruel death before his eyes, and then 
 carelessly had flung him life. Now he served her 
 like a faithful dog, watching her ever with sullen, 
 wistful eyes. 
 'g- It was as though two men were habited in the skin
 
 STRANGE GIFTS OF CATTLE 25 
 
 of Bryan Teige. In times of stress and peril he 
 was curt, silent, and ready, a great fighter, with 
 a keen, cunning brain. With the passing of danger 
 came reaction and an evil change. Straightway he 
 lapsed into a boaster, a drinker, and a half-crazy 
 buffoon. He came now to Grana in her chamber, 
 heated with wine, clad as ever in his torn motley, 
 fresh from entertaining the men with feats of 
 strength and mad jesting. 
 
 Grana alone could master him. 
 
 " I have ill news and need your counsel, Bryan," 
 she said, and straightway it was as though Bryan 
 Teige sloughed his skin of folly. 
 
 " Aye, lady ! " he said soberly. " You speak of 
 the kern that Murrough sent ? What answer have 
 you returned ? " 
 
 Grana from her high, carved chair motioned to 
 the two men to seat themselves upon low stools. 
 She mastered her wild followers by maintaining the 
 dignity almost of a queen. 
 
 Her chamber was not wanting in comfort, even 
 in luxury. Its silken hangings and rich furniture 
 bore witness to Spanish taste. Dubhdara, her 
 father, had been something of a connoisseur in such 
 matters, even as were Raleigh and Francis Drake. 
 But, like them, he had not been accustomed to 
 pay with gold for his luxuries. These fittings had 
 once adorned the cabin of a blue-blooded don, who 
 had needed them no longer. 
 
 " What answer ? " Grana said, with a little laugh. 
 " Why, one of vaguest courtesy, be sure ! But it 
 will not end here." 
 
 " Murrough's hands should be full enough,"
 
 26 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Bryan said thoughtfully. "He is out once more 
 against the English." 
 
 " What news is there of the lord deputy ? " 
 Grana asked, turning to Red Donell. 
 
 " A spy came in but an hour ago, lady. He is 
 moving slowly westward. He is sweeping all the 
 country and is not likely to pass us by." 
 
 Grana frowned. The Irish have never been apt 
 at the payment of taxes, regarding such a duty as 
 a shameful weakness. In those days the luckless 
 lord deputy of Connaught was compelled to gather 
 the English tribute with an armed column. Dubh- 
 dara had ever resented the humiliating exaction, 
 and there was now a long score in arrears against 
 his daughter. 
 
 And Grana herself was Irish to the core. 
 
 " What force has Sir Richard Bingham with 
 him ? " she asked sharply. 
 
 " Two hundred men, lady," Red Donell answered. 
 " But he is hampered with many cattle." 
 
 The undisciplined Irish were no match in regular 
 righting for the trained English troops, as Grana 
 knew well. She thought for a while with knitted 
 brows. 
 
 " I have no mind to be robbed by the English," 
 she said musingly. " But unless we act we are 
 like to be crushed between the hammer and the 
 anvil." 
 
 " We can hold Kildownet against five hundred 
 men, lady," Bryan Teige put in with confidence. 
 There was a grim happiness in the fool's eyes. He 
 scented a fight against long odds. 
 
 " Aye, but I am not minded to be mewed up
 
 STRANGE GIFTS OF CATTLE 27 
 
 here ! " Grana said angrily. " It would be well that 
 Murrough of the Axes should learn a lesson in good 
 manners. I do not love to be threatened. How 
 long have we, Donell, ere Sir Richard comes this 
 way ? " 
 
 Red Donell calculated upon his thick, gnarled 
 fingers. 
 
 " He will not trouble us for a full week, lady," 
 he answered at last. 
 
 " Aye ? " said Grana quietly. " And horses ? 
 There should be plenty to hand upon the islands." 
 
 It should be remembered that Ireland, torn as it 
 was with ceaseless feuds, was wealthier in those 
 days than now. Huge herds of horses and cattle 
 found grazing on the mainland and upon the swarm 
 of islands that were held by Grana's people. 
 
 " We can get in as many as you will, lady," Red 
 Donell answered. 
 
 " I need thirty at least in as hard condition as 
 may be," Grana went on. " I have a plan. We 
 will not stay to be penned up here. If the saints 
 are kind I will give a check both to this insolent 
 Murrough and to Sir Richard." 
 
 Red Donell's eyes were glad and eager. But 
 Bryan Teige spoke soberly. 
 
 " With thirty men, and in the open, lady ? " he 
 asked. It was for Grana alone that the fool found 
 prudence. 
 
 " Aye ! " Grana answered carelessly. " The rest 
 shall hold the castle. But I ask none to go that fear. 
 Think you that I shall find thirty bold enough to 
 ride out with Grana of Achill ? " 
 
 And Bryan Teige wasted no more cautious words.
 
 28 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Murrough of the Axes was in a complacent mood. 
 His ready Irish vanity had been tickled. A second 
 message had reached him from this insolent Grana 
 O'Malley a fittingly humble message, as it seemed 
 to him. 
 
 She prayed him to advance no farther against 
 her poor castle, and within two days she herself 
 would come in person to his camp. She would 
 bring with her his borrowed axemen, and make due 
 gifts of cattle and apologies for her fault. Murrough 
 of the Axes laughed when he heard her message 
 (curiously enough, Grana also had laughed as she 
 sent it), and invited flattery from his attendants. 
 
 It had taken but a little while and a mere threat 
 after all to bring this girl to order ! Who was there 
 in the west who might stand before him ? When 
 Grana had duly humbled herself upon her knees 
 he would go forth again and chase these insolent 
 English back to the east once more. 
 
 So Murrough of the Axes boasted, and stayed on 
 in his camp in the long valley of Ballydoig beneath 
 the grey, misty hills, where Grana's messenger had 
 found him. 
 
 There you have Murrough settled sufficiently at 
 his ease, and I would ask you to take note of a 
 little body of men riding steadily to the eastward of 
 the valley of Ballydoig. They were mounted upon 
 rough, hardy horses, and in their midst rode Grana 
 between her two lieutenants. 
 She alone knew what plan was in her shapely 
 head ; but there was not a man in the band who 
 would not have fawned before her for a smile. The 
 Irish worship beauty and fighting. Grana, it was
 
 STRANGE GIFTS OF CATTLE 29 
 
 certain, had the first, and had promised to supply 
 the second. Wherefore there was huge content- 
 ment among her men. 
 
 They rode by night, and they were heading 
 straight for the camp of Sir Richard Bingham, lord 
 deputy of Connaught. They were fairly between 
 the hammer and the anvil that Grana had men- 
 tioned, but Grana was superbly confident that her 
 wits could keep the two from closing upon her. 
 
 There was risk, of course ; but Grana loved risk 
 for its own sake. Also, it is to be feared that Grana 
 loved a good lie, apart from its mere strategic value. 
 Her message to Murrough had been after her own 
 heart. 
 
 Certainly she proposed to come to Murrough in 
 his valley, but, as certainly, she was not coming in 
 the fashion that Murrough expected. And there 
 were those gifts of cattle that she had mentioned ! 
 Five years later, when Grana's fame as a cunning 
 leader had spread through all Ireland and had 
 reached even to the English court, Murrough would 
 not have received that humble message with such 
 childlike faith. 
 
 There was little difficulty in finding Sir Richard 
 Bingham's camp. It was not the quietest place in 
 the world. A thousand head of cattle, many of 
 them protesting strenuously against banishment 
 from home grazing grounds, are not silent captives. 
 
 Very little gold had the lord deputy collected by 
 his claims for taxes in arrears. His procedure was 
 distressingly similar in almost every case. When 
 the Irish chief in question considered himself strong 
 enough he attacked the applicant for taxes and his
 
 30 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 column. When he was too weak for such a cheery 
 course he protested aching poverty. In either case he 
 would produce no money, and the end was the same. 
 
 So many head of his cattle were added to the 
 great lowing herd, and a handful of his ragged kerns 
 were impressed to act as herdsmen. 
 
 That night Sir Richard Bingham sat late in his 
 tent inditing one of his many letters to the great 
 queen at home. You may read those letters to- 
 day, if you choose, quaintly spelled and worded, 
 pleading ever for the men and money that Elizabeth 
 could or would not spare. 
 
 A tall, thin man, in soiled dress that had once 
 been fashionable, with a worn, handsome face. It 
 was no light or easy task, holding all stormy Con- 
 naught in check with a mere handful of troops. 
 And the queen he served was a great mistress, but 
 exacting. 
 
 Little she gave, or could give, in aid, but much 
 did she expect. Sir Richard dismissed his secretary 
 at last, and laid himself wearily upon his camp bed. 
 He fell asleep at length with the lowing of the cattle 
 in his ears. 
 
 He woke in the early dawn, and at first could not 
 understand what it was he missed. Then he knew 
 the cattle were silent. And then there entered to 
 him nervously apologetic men with grave news. 
 
 An hour or two after midnight, it appeared, when 
 sentries are most weary, a band of mounted men had 
 stolen upon the cattle. There could be no question 
 that they had found willing helpers in the rascal 
 herdsmen who had been pressed into service. 
 
 Sir Richard swore a great oath.
 
 STRANGE GIFTS OF CATTLE 31 
 
 " String up those kerns at once for an example ! " 
 he roared. 
 
 " It should have been done ere this, Sir Richard, 
 God knew ! But but the kerns were missing 
 every man ! " 
 
 Sir Richard swore again, lustily, even as the 
 queen herself would have sworn. 
 
 " And the cattle ? " he asked. 
 
 " They they were missing, too ! " 
 
 " What had the sentries been about ? " the 
 lord deputy demanded furiously. 
 
 It appeared that the sentries had not failed in 
 their duty. At the least, if they had slept, they 
 were beyond further punishment. Their bodies 
 had been found. Sir Richard dragged a cloak about 
 him and stamped out impatiently into the chill 
 morning mist to organise a pursuit. 
 
 It is certain that the camp, including probably 
 the luckless sentries, must have slept with soundness. 
 Much usquebaugh was drunk, as a duty, by the 
 English exiled in Ireland to ward off the agues and 
 fevers arising from the Irish bogs. Which duty, 
 performed conscientiously, led sometimes to disaster. 
 
 It appeared that no attempt had been made by 
 the raiders to drive off the cattle in one great herd. 
 They had been nursed skilfully from the neighbour- 
 hood of the sleeping camp, and then apparently 
 had been dispersed in all directions. There was no 
 great track to follow. Two blasphemous hours were 
 wasted before a ragged peasant was brought in, but 
 then little time was spent in his examination. He 
 was confronted with torture, and he spoke without 
 delay.
 
 32 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 He had seen a herd of some three hundred head 
 go by in the dawn, driven toward the west by a 
 little band of mounted men. Within another hour 
 Sir Richard and his men had struck camp and were 
 in hot pursuit. 
 
 Grana had sent in that peasant to the camp when 
 she deemed that she had won sufficient start. Grana 
 had calculated her time with daring and cunning 
 skill. She knew that the English were not mounted, 
 and that, mindful of many ambushes, they would 
 march with some caution. But they would follow 
 they would surely follow. They would hunger 
 for the cattle, and they would deem it vital that 
 such daring raiders should receive a lesson. 
 
 Sir Richard Bingham was well known to be 
 choleric and high-hearted. So all that day the cattle 
 were driven without undue speed toward the west. 
 
 You may picture Grana riding among her men, 
 bright-eyed, untiring, and watchful, spurring to 
 their work the native herdsmen whom she had 
 released from the hated English service. She had 
 left horsemen at intervals behind her, to watch 
 for the dust of the pursuing column, and by their 
 reports she regulated her speed. 
 
 When dusk began to fall, when she was still two 
 miles or more from the valley of Ballydoig, she was 
 able to halt for an hour to rest the steaming cattle. 
 And then it was that she told her men of the work 
 that lay before them, and they swore that for wit 
 and daring their lady had no equal. 
 
 Daring she was, beyond all doubt. She waited 
 until the sweating English troops trudged into 
 sight, until they broke into a run as they saw the
 
 STRANGE GIFTS OF CATTLE 33 
 
 prize before them, and then she bade her men goad 
 on the herd once more. 
 
 She lured the English forward with consummate 
 skill. The long march was telling upon the cattle, 
 a trail of exhausted bodies was beginning to dot 
 the track, and not until the valley of Ballydoig 
 opened before her and she saw the twinkle of 
 Murrough's camp-fires did she increase the pace. 
 
 Then at last she raised her hand, and down 
 through the gathering twilight, with the straining 
 English at their very heels, thundered the cattle 
 and the mounted men. 
 
 Murrough and his men were at their evening 
 meal, and the sentries were Irish. The first 
 warning of danger came with a low, distant murmur 
 of sound. Drowsy sentries came running with news 
 of a great column of dust half seen through the thick 
 twilight. But an hour before yet another messenger 
 from Grana had come in, saying that she and her 
 gift of cattle would shortly reach the camp. Mur- 
 rough came from his tent and peered through the 
 dusk with a vague suspicion of danger. 
 
 " This should be a princely gift ! " he muttered. 
 And then in a moment he had turned with swift and 
 blasphemous orders upon his lips. He doubted no 
 longer, but his time of grace was short. 
 
 The distant murmur had hardened swiftly into a 
 roar. His men, confused by the gathering darkness, 
 snatched up arms and strove to form themselves 
 for battle one little moment before the mysterious 
 whirlwind broke. 
 
 It raved in upon them with a thunder of hoofs 
 that shook the ground, with a torrent of animal 
 D
 
 34 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 roarings and wild human yells. The yellow dust 
 was a screen to make the mystery more devilish 
 and affrighting. 
 
 And through that dust there broke the horned, 
 shaggy heads of terrified, stampeding cattle. A 
 great cry for aid went up to many saints, and then 
 the camp in the long, narrow valley was swept as 
 by a giant broom ! Men were trampled flat beneath 
 the spurning hoofs, tossed high into air, flung far 
 aside, gored and dying. 
 
 And then the herd had crashed upon its way, 
 leaving a horrid trail behind ; and Murrough of 
 the Axes, who had escaped as by a miracle, strove 
 like a gallant man to rally the remnant of his three 
 hundred men. He was half mad with anger, eager 
 for a human foe upon whom he might vent his rage. 
 
 And Grana, in her generosity, had planned that 
 that wish should be gratified. She had provided a 
 human foe for Murrough of the Axes. Not her own 
 little force ; for Grana was seldom wasteful. She 
 preferred, when possible, that other folk should do 
 her work. 
 
 Her men had unwillingly obeyed her orders, and 
 when the cattle were fairly within the valley, had 
 driven their horses up the steep slope to the left. 
 Then upon the ridge they halted, and peered down 
 upon a grim and murderous fight. 
 
 For now the English were come. Even as Mur- 
 rough rallied his broken force he was aware of the 
 thud of feet and the rumble of English oaths. The 
 English were up at last, eager to avenge the night 
 raid and the long, dusty march. And between 
 English and Irish in those days was a long debt of
 
 STRANGE GIFTS OF CATTLE 35 
 
 hate. There in the growing darkness, between 
 almost equal forces, a portion of that debt was 
 satisfied. 
 
 Grana and her men looked down through the 
 gloom upon the stern hurly-burly. Their eyes 
 might see little save the occasional flash of an 
 arquebus, but to their ears came sounds that told 
 their own tale. Irish axe met English sword, and 
 in courage there was little to choose between the 
 fighters. 
 
 In the thick dusk discipline was of no avail, and 
 man fought with man, groping his way to his foe- 
 man's throat. Mad yells and cries, the howls of 
 the wounded, the thick, sobbing groans of the dying, 
 blended into a hateful discord. It was but one of 
 the thousand nameless fights that have watered 
 the green Irish soil with blood. 
 
 And Grana triumphed ; Grana's heart was high 
 within her. She did not love bloodshed ; she was 
 seldom cruel ; but she loved the sense of power 
 that thrilled her as she sat her horse in the darkness 
 above the fatal valley. 
 
 This was her doing ; these poor, struggling pawns 
 had been moved by her. She had not been crushed 
 between the hammer and the anvil ; she had 
 slipped from between them, and they were crushing 
 each other. 
 
 After that night Murrough of the Axes would 
 be in little case for vengeance ; and Sir Richard 
 Bingham would have other matters to engage him 
 beyond the collection of taxes in arrear. You do 
 not understand Grana if you do not understand her 
 triumph.
 
 36 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 But but she was a woman, and, one fancies, 
 she was glad of the darkness. It saved her eyes 
 from many things, and it made the fight less deadly. 
 Soon enough the din grew fainter ; soon enough 
 the struggle became scattered as it went reeling 
 down the valley. No man knew where were his 
 friends, and panic raised its head and spread like 
 fever. The darkness held vague horrors that were 
 worse than death. The last embers of the fight 
 flickered and died away, and the long, narrow 
 valley was left to the wounded and the dead. 
 
 But in the grey dawn Grana and her men, walking 
 their weary horses whither they hardly knew, came 
 upon a lonely man beside the body of his dead horse. 
 He was wounded and weary, and his once rich 
 garments blew in tattered rags. 
 
 Upon his haggard face and in his deep-set eyes 
 were dumb, bewildered grief and anger. It may be 
 that they would not have known him, but the man 
 rose unsteadily to his feet. 
 
 " I am Murrough of the Axes," he said, as a child 
 might speak. " See, my sword is broken, and my 
 men where are my men ? " 
 
 Grana spoke no word to him. She whispered an 
 order and one of her band dismounted. They set 
 Murrough in his saddle, and the little cavalcade 
 moved on. 
 
 Some one handed Murrough food. He ate 
 mechanically as he rode, and his mind cleared. His 
 little army was scattered, and he was a prisoner in 
 the hands of Grana of Achill. They were dragging 
 him to her castle to die or to rot within a dungeon. 
 Then the merciful numbness swept back upon his
 
 STRANGE GIFTS OF CATTLE 37 
 
 brain, and he rode on with bowed head and dull, 
 unseeing eyes beneath the grey, misty Irish sky. 
 
 It was the evening, and Murrough's eyes were 
 dazzled. Here was no gloomy dungeon. Here were 
 bright lights and gleaming silken hangings and 
 flashing silver. And yet he was within Kildownet 
 Castle. 
 
 He remembered dully the echo of the drawbridge 
 beneath his horse's hoofs, while men who held 
 flickering torches had cheered madly and roared 
 that their dark lady was a witch. 
 
 He had not heeded these things. He had asked 
 only to be alone in his cell. But that boon had not 
 been granted him. Instead, he had been conducted 
 to a chamber where a deft-handed serving-man had 
 waited upon him in unbroken silence. 
 
 Water had steamed in a great bath, and there he 
 had bathed his weary limbs. He had made no 
 protest it was as though he was moving in a 
 dream. And still as in a dream he had suffered the 
 attendant to bandage the wound in his sword-arm, 
 to replace his torn rags with garments of rich satin, 
 to belt upon him a jewel-hilted sword. And then 
 he had been led to this wonderful chamber. 
 
 The well-born Irish of those wild days were no 
 savages. The most luxurious exquisite of to-day 
 might have found little wanting in Grana's dining- 
 room. Not for nothing had her father and her 
 father's father laid tribute on the sea. Silver lamps 
 filled with perfumed oil shed brilliant light, the 
 table was rich with gold and silver plate. 
 
 And the lady who swept in, heralded by her
 
 38 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 seneschal, to curtsy low before her guest, was worthy 
 of her splendid setting. Jewels gleamed in her dark 
 hair, upon her milk-white neck, in the folds of her 
 lustrous gown. 
 
 A haunting fragrance was in Murrough's nostrils 
 as, half dizzily, he bowed before the gracious vision. 
 He would have protested at such mockery, but she 
 raised her hand and the words died on his lips. 
 
 He was moving amid enchantments, he stood 
 within a fairy castle, and no word that he might 
 utter should break the spell. 
 
 The table was laid for them two alone. Murrough 
 ate of rich dishes and pledged his hostess in rare 
 wine, scarce knowing what he did. His brain was 
 bewildered by such treatment of a prisoner. 
 
 As they ate Grana talked easily of many things. 
 She spoke of the gossip of the English court that 
 came straying across the sea to Ireland, of the hand- 
 some and gallant Earl of Essex whom the queen 
 was sending over as her representative, of the long 
 war with Spain. But no word did she speak of 
 Murrough of the Axes, or of his dispute with a 
 certain Grana of Achill. 
 
 Until the meal was ended and they repaired to 
 another chamber, as richly hung and furnished. 
 Then Grana reclined at ease upon a couch, dipping 
 her long fingers into a jewelled snuff-box at her side. 
 
 The habit was newly coming into favour in 
 England, and she had learned it from her father's 
 Spanish prisoners. Murrough of the Axes stood 
 before her, striving to lay hands upon cool sense. 
 Grana watched him with lazy, half-approving eyes 
 a tall, lean, goodly figure of a man in his rich suit.
 
 STRANGE GIFTS OF CATTLE 39 
 
 " I am bewildered, lady," he began, and indeed 
 his tongue stumbled as he watched her. " Why 
 should you treat me in such princely fashion ? I am 
 your prisoner 
 
 " Nay, sir," amended Grana courteously. " Rather 
 at present you are my guest." 
 
 " I am your prisoner," he repeated. " What need 
 to gloze the facts ? I had it in my mind to break 
 down your pride. But it is I who am broken ! " 
 
 Grana's careless eyes grew softer. She loved 
 courage, and she knew that this man was brave. 
 Also, she loved power and victory above all else 
 in the world, but she hated to see a strong man 
 ashamed. 
 
 " Nay, Murrough, all shall yet be well with you," 
 she said gently. " You were greatly angered with 
 me, and I say not that you had no cause. Although, 
 indeed, I hate to own myself at fault ! " 
 
 And she laughed a little, very softly and low. 
 
 " But you were too strong for me to meet in 
 open fight, and I was threatened by another peril. 
 For the lord deputy was hastening hither to demand 
 his hateful taxes. And so I turned to my woman's 
 guile for aid." 
 
 And she told him in few words of the strategy 
 that she had used. Murrough bit his lips as he 
 listened, but he spoke courteously. 
 
 " A general is lost in you, lady," he said. " For 
 my men I grieve, but for myself I take no shame for 
 my defeat. You are strong and clever and without 
 fear. But now I would ask what ransom you will 
 demand of my poverty ? " 
 
 For a while Grana did not answer. She gazed
 
 40 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 at him with eyes half veiled by their long, dark, 
 silken lashes. She was a woman, and she had but 
 lately learned her power. 
 
 She motioned him nearer with her hand. Mur- 
 rough obeyed the gesture, and to his nostrils there 
 came the fragrance of her dark, splendid hair. 
 
 " May not a woman be generous ? " she mur- 
 mured. " May she not seek to win a friend in one 
 who was a foe ? " 
 
 And then and then Murrough of the Axes 
 forgot both his honour and his shame. He forgot 
 that he was a prisoner, and he had no thought for 
 the comely wife who watched for him in his distant 
 castle. 
 
 He had no eyes and brain save for this woman 
 whose smiling eyes were on his face. He fell upon 
 his knees and he caught her hand to his lips 
 and he poured forth a wild flood of mad, foolish 
 words. 
 
 And for a moment one short moment Grana 
 of Achill hearkened to him with a little glad, proud 
 smile. It has been said that she was a woman. 
 Here was another sweet tribute to her power. Then 
 she flushed, and she sat upright upon her couch, 
 and she pushed him from her with her hand. 
 
 " Nay, Murrough," she said, with a curious, cold 
 severity, with a scorn that maybe was edged against 
 herself " this folly is not seemly. You would 
 ill requite my courtesy. And you forget your 
 honour." 
 
 But Murrough did not heed her. His eyes and 
 his brain were drunken. 
 
 " Grana, Grana, my sweet, my queen ! " he
 
 STRANGE GIFTS OF CATTLE 41 
 
 whispered hoarsely. " All things are possible to 
 us we will found a kingdom, you and I together." 
 
 But Grana shook her head with decision. She 
 might yield to vanity for a moment, but at heart 
 she was cool and practical. 
 
 " I would be your friend, Murrough," she said. 
 " But love is not for me. Or when it comes, I think 
 it will be in the hand of one who is my master. 
 And now your folly is forgotten ! There shall be 
 no talk of ransom between us. To-morrow a horse 
 shall be found for you and you shall ride to your 
 home. You will remember that Grana can be 
 generous." 
 
 She slid from the couch, and as Murrough groped 
 for her with shaking hands he heard the arras 
 rustle. He sprang unsteadily to his feet to find 
 himself alone.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 A DEATH CHASE AMONG THE ISLANDS 
 
 OVER the grey, ruffled waves, perilously 
 near to the dark, cruel coast, a storm- 
 battered galleon came reeling. For three 
 days a savage gale had howled from the south, and 
 its first onset had left the galleon helpless and 
 dismasted. 
 
 Then she had whirled before it, strained and 
 buffeted, until Spanish seamanship was at a loss, 
 and even Spanish courage was almost spent. 
 
 When the wind subsided, her crew, turning from 
 the pattering of prayers, judged that they were 
 off the ill-omened coast of Ireland, and made 
 shift to rear a jury-mast. And then out from a 
 narrow gulf slid two long, evil-looking craft ! 
 
 To Grana and her men it appeared certain that 
 the saints were pleased. They were doubtful as to 
 the exact fashion in which they had contrived to 
 gratify the saints ; but, there it was ! Here was 
 a rich prize crippled by the gale and flung into their 
 very hands. It only went to prove that the blessed 
 saints did nothing by halves ! 
 
 Upon the poop of the " Red Horse " you behold 
 Grana in her glory. Land adventuring was well 
 enough, but there was the blood of many genera- 
 42
 
 A DEATH CHASE AMONG THE ISLANDS 43 
 
 tions of sea-pirates in her veins. She stood by the 
 helmsman, wrapped in a long cloak of rough crim- 
 son frieze, and her dark eyes were vivid with 
 delight. 
 
 The " Red Horse " drove through the long, 
 sullen waves, not deigning to leap them, and the 
 spray that her sharp bows flung in glinting clouds 
 was as wine upon Grana's lips. Things were going 
 well with her of late. The fame of her exploit in the 
 valley of Ballydoig had spread far and wide, and 
 her following had grown. 
 
 And here before her was a venture after her own 
 heart. It had even a smack of legality to lend it an 
 unusual piquancy. For was not Spain at war with 
 England ? Grana the Grana who had defied and 
 outwitted the representative of the English queen 
 found a certain humour in the thought of her present 
 loyalty. 
 
 And then, without a waste of breath on either 
 side, begins a fierce day-long battle. You see the 
 galleon, a lumbering, stately castle of a ship with 
 her one makeshift spar, hold on her slow way before 
 the wind. And round and round her in swift mazy 
 circles sweep the " Red Horse " and the " Eagle." 
 They are as cock-boats beneath the huge, round- 
 bowed bulk of the Spaniard, with her high, carved 
 castle at stern and bow, but in their very tininess 
 there is safety. 
 
 They can be handled with bewildering speed, and 
 as ever the Spanish guns are trained too high. 
 That fact outbalances the almost ludicrous 
 superiority of the galleon's weight of metal. As it 
 is, the " Red Horse " and the " Eagle " find safety
 
 44 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 from their very daring, and at almost pointblank 
 range even their light cannon hull the Spaniard 
 time and again. 
 
 All through the grey, sunless day that running 
 fight went on. The startled sea-birds rose screaming 
 from the rocks, and the line of misty hills re-echoed 
 the thunder of the guns. There was a strange con- 
 trast between the fighters. The decks of the galleon 
 swarmed with men. 
 
 Upon her poop her captain and the commandant 
 of her soldiers, clad in glittering armour, paced in 
 stately fashion. The dark-robed priests and the 
 spruce gentlemen volunteers looked down in wonder 
 and contempt upon their puny foes. 
 
 Upon the deck of one they saw a woman and a 
 gaunt giant in motley directing a handful of ragged, 
 shouting men ; upon the other a red-haired bull of 
 a man spurred on the pitiless attack. As the day 
 died the Spaniards ceased to sneer, and began to 
 ask themselves how the strange fight would end. 
 
 Upon the " Red Horse " and the " Eagle " they 
 had no doubts. Their rigging had been cut by a 
 few chance shots, but the damage had been smartly 
 repaired. The Spaniards they knew were in very 
 different case. The galleon had been lacked through 
 and through, and she was perceptibly lower in the 
 water. Soon she must yield or run for the jagged 
 shore. 
 
 But to yield to such foes was not in accordance 
 with Spanish honour. The galleon held on her 
 proud unconquerable way, wallowing like a wounded 
 whale. The red sun was dipping fast, and it was 
 borne in upon Grana that her prize was slipping
 
 A DEATH CHASE AMONG THE ISLANDS 45 
 
 through her fingers. Another grey dawn would not 
 find the galleon afloat. 
 
 Grana muttered a word to the helmsman, and the 
 " Red Horse " shot across the Spaniard's bows. 
 Grana was poised upon the bulwarks, hailing her to 
 yield in broken Spanish. But the Spanish captain 
 laughed with icy contempt. He had only one answer 
 for such filibusters. 
 
 And Bryan Teige dragged Grana down from the 
 high bulwarks as the arquebuses flashed. A bullet 
 had grazed her arm, but she stamped with rage, 
 unheeding the stinging pain. 
 
 " We shall lose her yet, by all the saints ! " she 
 cried fiercely. 
 
 " Run us alongside, Bryan, and we will board the 
 rogues ! " 
 
 Bryan Teige shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "It is what they would pray for, lady," he 
 answered dryly. " She carries soldiers five hun- 
 dred men and more ! And, besides " 
 
 He pointed through the gloom toward the galleon. 
 She had given one sudden, sickening reel. And 
 now yes, by all the saints, her bows were rising ! 
 Then from her decks there broke one shrill and 
 awful cry. It was a despairing wail to Heaven from 
 five hundred throats. 
 
 Bryan Teige and Red Donell roared to their 
 helmsmen, and the " Red Horse " and the " Eagle " 
 wheeled and fled like startled birds. But for one 
 moment through the grim twilight Grana looked 
 upon an unforgettable sight. She saw the common 
 folk of the galleon break all discipline in their 
 mad terror ; she saw a great, howling mob of soldiers
 
 46 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 and sailors hurl themselves for the lofty poop where 
 still their officers waited, stately and unmoved, for 
 what the saints might bring. She heard their 
 screams and prayers and imprecations as death 
 stretched out cold hands. And then there came a 
 sudden, dreadful silence. 
 
 And Grana was moved to pity. You wrong her 
 if you think her cruel because there was red fighting- 
 blood in her veins. She shouted an order to the 
 helmsman. The fellow hesitated, looking toward 
 Bryan Teige, and Grana well, her nature was 
 never patient ! 
 
 She caught the man a blow with the flat of her 
 long hand that rang like a pistol shot, such a blow 
 as Elizabeth gave to those who angered her, and as 
 he shrank away she gripped the tiller. The " Red 
 Horse " turned shivering upon her heel, and Grana 
 drove her back upon her course. 
 
 But now no huge black hulk loomed out of the 
 twilight. The galleon had vanished for ever and 
 a day, and of the hundreds who had manned her 
 they found but two, senseless and lashed to spars. 
 
 They were dragged aboard, and then the " Red 
 Horse " and her consort set out sulkily enough 
 for Achill Sound. The day had been long and hard, 
 and for spoil they were bringing home two half- 
 drowned Spaniards ! But it is of those two that 
 this story tells. 
 
 From their dress it was obvious that they were 
 gentlemen. Grana bade her men carry them to the 
 cabin and tend them with all care. If it pleases you, 
 you may put down her humanity to a desire for 
 ransom. At the least, that, or any other theory, will
 
 A DEATH CHASE AMONG THE ISLANDS 47 
 
 hurt Grana but little now. Both Spaniards were 
 slight-built, swarthy men of middle height. They 
 forced spirits between their lips, and in a little while 
 one of them opened his dark eyes. 
 
 " Where am I ? What has chanced ? " he mut- 
 tered in Spanish. One of Grana's men had picked 
 up a few words of that tongue from Spanish prisoners. 
 
 " The galleon was sunk, seftor," he answered. 
 " You and one other have been saved." 
 
 There came a curious light to the Spaniard's eyes. 
 
 " Only one other ! "he whispered eagerly. " Then 
 oh, thanks to the blessed saints ! that devil will 
 surely have been drowned ! " 
 
 He raised himself painfully upon one arm to look 
 then sank back with a little thick gasp of dis- 
 appointment. By now the other Spaniard had been 
 restored to life, and their eyes had met. The one 
 who had spoken his name was Juan Valdez 
 laughed softly and very bitterly. 
 
 " I might have known that he would not die," 
 he murmured. " That is my half-brother, and a 
 devil oh, a devil ! " 
 
 He raised himself once more. 
 
 " Greeting, dear Pedro ! " he called softly, and 
 his eyes flickered with hate. And a mocking, silvery 
 voice made answer : 
 
 " Greeting, dearest brother ! " 
 
 They say that Grana was kind, perhaps too kind, 
 to both her prisoners. If it were so it is not strange. 
 There were certain sides of Grana's nature that 
 ambition and adventure could not satisfy. 
 
 There were no more polished gentlemen in Europe 
 than the hidalgos of Spain. And these two con-
 
 48 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 trasted vividly with Red Donell and Bryan Teige. 
 And Grana the fact has been stated ere this was 
 a true woman. 
 
 There was no thought of ransom. Pedro and 
 Juan Valdez stayed on at Kildownet Castle, and 
 soon enough under their teaching Grana's halting 
 Spanish became more fluent. No man knew the 
 secret of the hate between the brothers, but all 
 could see that they had carried their rivalry one 
 long step onward. 
 
 For Grana stood between them now. Grana was 
 the prize for which either would have sold his soul, 
 and the hate that had burned between them was 
 fanned to a wilder flame. 
 
 One wonders what were Grana's thoughts. It 
 seems likely that her heart was scarcely touched. 
 But she had ever a womanly fancy for setting 
 puppets to their dancing. It would gratify that 
 harmless fancy to ride after the red deer with these 
 strange suitors on either hand, to sit with them in 
 her chamber, and to watch the flicker in their eyes 
 as she flung her careless crumbs of favour. 
 
 No man, the two least of all, might know which 
 of the twain she liked the better. She was playing 
 the game that has been beloved of women since the 
 world began. She was playing with glowing fire, 
 and she loved the thrill of power and danger that 
 the pastime gave. But she was to pay a certain 
 price for her amusement. 
 
 And so for two months and more love and hate 
 and folly played their parts within Kildownet 
 Castle. And Bryan Teige and Red Donell watched 
 with smouldering fury these two dainty sprigs,
 
 A DEATH CHASE AMONG THE ISLANDS 49 
 
 who handled sword so deftly, who sat their horses 
 with such grace and skill, and who had dared in 
 their utter insolence to lay their love at the feet of 
 Grana of Achill. 
 
 In the twilight of an autumn evening Juan Valdez 
 sat with Grana in her chamber. A lute was upon his 
 knees, and he was singing softly a plaintive Spanish 
 song. As he played his eyes were upon Grana's 
 proud, dark face. It is to be presumed that she 
 was aware of the fact, although the little smile upon 
 her lips was cool enough. And then the music 
 ceased but still its sweet, pleading echoes seemed 
 to haunt the room. 
 
 Juan Valdez was upon his feet, his eyes dark with 
 passion. He had forgotten that this woman was a 
 barbarian, and of necessity inferior to a hidalgo of 
 birth and breeding. He had forgotten everything 
 in the world, except the face that gleamed palely 
 from the shadows. 
 
 " Grana," he said hoarsely and low, " how long 
 will you play with me, how long will you give but 
 mocking answers to my prayers ? I love you ! " 
 
 And Grana ceased to smile. It may be that, for 
 a moment at least, she was touched by the man's 
 great passion. It may be that for the moment she 
 was lonely and in need of friendship. It may be that 
 she only pleased her vanity. Who shall say ? 
 
 But at the least she motioned Juan Valdez to 
 come nearer with a little gesture of her hand. And 
 he came, with his blood at riot in his veins. He 
 came, dreaming that he had won his heart's desire. 
 It is a dream that many men have hugged. He 
 
 E
 
 50 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 knelt beside her, holding fast her jewelled hands, 
 touching them with his lips, whispering a flood of 
 passionate Spanish words of love. 
 
 And then in a dark corner of the chamber the 
 arras stirred. 
 
 No wandering draught of air had moved it. From 
 behind it there slid a dark, shadowy figure. It was 
 Pedro Valdez. All the dying, flickering daylight in 
 the room seemed to concentrate and burn in the 
 eyes that gleamed from his swarthy face. They 
 shone like a cat's eyes in the dark. Otherwise he 
 might have been a ghostly wraith. But once the 
 half-light smouldered sullenly upon something that 
 he gripped fast in his right hand. 
 
 Grana and her lover did not hear him. Like a 
 panther he slunk across the chamber. But for Grana, 
 Juan Valdez had died without a struggle. But Grana 
 lifted her eyes, instinctively aware of another pres- 
 ence in the room, just as the great knife gleamed. 
 
 She gasped and clutched at the kneeling man, 
 and it was but his left shoulder that was torn. Only 
 that sudden movement had saved him, for a 
 Spaniard's skill with the knife is devilish. Juan 
 Valdez, shrinking from the steel, glared upward 
 into his brother's maddened eyes. 
 
 " Dog and murderer ! " he hissed, and then he 
 was upon his feet, careless of his wound, and their 
 swords were out. 
 
 There was no formality about that death duel 
 in the darkened chamber. The brothers did not 
 wait for lights or seconds. They had red hate to 
 guide their points, and the true swordsman can fence 
 blindfolded, feeling for his opponent's blade.
 
 A DEATH CHASE AMONG THE ISLANDS 51 
 
 Grana never thought of calling for aid to stop 
 the fight. You see her crouching with clenched 
 hands upon the couch, straining her eyes through 
 the dim light. It was for her that they fought. So 
 in the jungle the lioness watches two royal rivals 
 grappling to the death, deciding which of the twain 
 shall live to claim her favours, 
 
 One wonders if there was something akin to 
 pride as well as horror in Grana's heart. The world 
 was younger and less artificial then, and to this 
 day women are strangely primitive. 
 
 It was that felon knife-stroke which gave victory 
 to Pedro Valdez. Both the brothers were famous 
 swordsmen and well matched. For a time Grana, 
 madly eager that the stabber should be punished, 
 could not detect that either had the vantage. 
 
 They pressed each other with the rage of devils, 
 up and down the long stone-flagged chamber, amid 
 the crashing furniture, with the bright sparks 
 glinting in the twilight from their gritting blades. 
 
 But the end came suddenly at last. The blood 
 was streaming from Juan Valdez's shoulder, and 
 his strength was failing. In a little while it was 
 only the fervour of his hate that kept him upon his 
 feet. And then he reeled and his sword-point for a 
 moment drooped. Pedro had no thought of mercy. 
 
 He lunged with one great cry of triumph. Juan 
 Valdez was down with a mortal wound. A whisper 
 came to Grana's ears only one word her own 
 name murmured faintly ; and then the room was 
 strangely still. She hid her face in her hands, 
 unnerved and trembling for the moment. She was 
 alone in the twilight with the murderer.
 
 52 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 And then her strong spirit mastered her weak- 
 ness. She sprang to her feet. She would rouse the 
 castle, and this villain should die as he deserved. 
 The thick walls and flooring had deadened the sounds 
 of the fight, but a silver bell was almost within her 
 reach. As she groped for it, Pedro Valdez's voice 
 came to her through the dusk. 
 
 " I grieve to be discourteous, senorita," he said 
 coldly and evenly ; " but if you touch the bell or 
 cry out, you die that moment." 
 
 There was something in his smooth voice that 
 made Grana shiver, but when she answered her 
 voice was firm. 
 
 " What will you do ? " she asked. 
 
 " I am going to leave the castle," he answered. 
 " You must come with me. I, too, love you, as 
 you know. I may not live without you." 
 
 And then Grana's wrath and scorn flamed out. 
 
 " You love me ? " she cried. " You a spy, a 
 murderer, a stabber from behind ? I am to go with 
 you you may not live without me ? I tell you 
 that it is a shame to me to speak with you ; that it 
 is hateful to me to breathe your air ! " 
 
 His voice was utterly unchanged. 
 
 " It is for you to choose," he answered. " For 
 myself, I care little. Summon your ruffians, 
 senorita, if you will. Ere they come their mistress 
 will be dead, and I it will be no bitter end to die 
 fighting. Choose, senorita, but choose swiftly ! " 
 
 His voice carried conviction and restored Grana's 
 cool sense. 
 
 " What is my other choice ? " she asked sullenly, 
 after a brief pause.
 
 A DEATH CHASE AMONG THE ISLANDS 53 
 
 " You will walk beside me down the stairway to 
 the open air. You will be within touch of me as 
 we go. If we meet any of your men upon the way, 
 you will say and do nothing to arouse their sus- 
 picion. Near the water we shall find a boat. After- 
 ward who can tell what shall befall us after- 
 ward ? " 
 
 Grana stood in silence, thinking swiftly. Grana 
 might give way to rage, but it was only for the mo- 
 ment. As has been told, they called her the Fox in 
 after years. 
 
 She knew that this man was entirely desperate, 
 that he meant all that he had said. She knew he 
 had proved it fully that murder was but a little 
 thing in his eyes. She knew that, because he loved 
 her, he would sooner see her dead than lost to him. 
 For the Spaniard loves as a tiger loves. It was 
 terrible to trust herself to this man, alone in the 
 darkness upon the sea ; it was hateful to her pride ; 
 but swift and certain death was the alternative. 
 
 Grana trusted always in her luck and her star, and 
 the thought of death was ever strangely painful to 
 her. She came without hesitation to her decision. 
 
 " I will go with you," she said in a low voice, and 
 then she caught her breath sharply. Not all her 
 strength of will could keep her from that sign of 
 weakness. 
 
 "It is well," Pedro Valdez answered coolly. 
 " Wrap a cloak about you and come forth without 
 delay." 
 
 Without more words she did what he bade her. 
 It added to her courage to know that within her 
 breast was the little poniard that she always carried.
 
 54 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 She was so careless of his anger that she stooped and 
 laid her hand upon the chilly forehead of the man 
 whom he had killed. 
 
 Pedro Valdez watched her with Spanish frigidity 
 as she did so ; but it seemed to her that she heard 
 the click of his dry lips. Then that strange pair 
 went forth, side by side. They met but one man 
 upon their way. It was one Patrick Oge, serving 
 his turn as warden of the gate. He stared for a 
 moment to see his lady go forth at such an hour, 
 but it was never Grana's habit to encourage ques- 
 tions from her servants. 
 
 Also, Pedro Valdez was beside her, and all in the 
 castle knew that one or other of the Spaniards had 
 been as a shadow to their lady for the last few 
 weeks. The fact had not added to the popularity 
 of the Spaniards. However, Patrick Oge conceived 
 that the pair were going forth to watch the rising 
 of the moon together, or upon some similar folly, 
 and with an obsequious gesture he unlocked and 
 threw open the great gate. 
 
 It is possible that he plumed himself upon his 
 cleverness in reading the intentions of his lady. At 
 the least, he had reason later to regret that clever- 
 ness. 
 
 The drawbridge was not yet raised. Grana and 
 her escort passed across it, and a few yards brought 
 them to an upturned coracle beside the water's edge. 
 Pedro Valdez ran it down, and assisted Grana to a 
 seat in the stern. As the boat slid through the 
 gathering darkness down the Sound, Grana spoke. 
 
 " What will you do with me ? " she asked, and 
 it may be that her voice shook a very little. " We
 
 A DEATH CHASE AMONG THE ISLANDS 55 
 
 have neither food nor water, and these seas are 
 dangerous for so frail a craft." 
 
 Pedro Valdez laughed softly his own mocking, 
 silvery laugh. 
 
 " I care not what chances in the future," he said. 
 " I do not look ahead not I. But you are with 
 me ; we are alone in the dark world together 
 you and I and it is enough, my lady, it is enough ! " 
 
 His pale, eager face gleamed through the heavy 
 dusk. Grana glanced at him and then swiftly 
 dropped her eyes. She was brave ; there can be 
 no question that she was brave beyond the wont of 
 women, but I do not wonder that she shivered. 
 
 To Red Donell and Bryan Teige, in the great 
 hall, there came a man and a woman in panic haste. 
 They were Grana's serving-woman and her senes- 
 chal. That hall, where Bryan Teige, drunkard and 
 braggart in peaceful hours, held stormy revel, was 
 commonly no place for them ; but now they 
 brought news that might not tarry. 
 
 " Where is the Lady Grana ? " gasped the 
 seneschal. " In her own chamber one of the 
 Spanish lords has been slain ! " 
 
 The serving- woman was past speech. In the 
 dark of Grana's chamber she had stumbled upon 
 something dumb and cold and awful that had 
 chilled her heart. But her white face told its own 
 story. 
 
 It was a sight to see how Bryan Teige flung aside 
 his half-drunken folly. The man cared for but one 
 living creature in the world. He sprang to his 
 feet, and men obeyed the long, lean figure in the 
 torn, stained motley as though he had been the
 
 56 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 mistress whom he loved. They had seen the death- 
 seeker fight. 
 
 With a few curt words he drew from the seneschal 
 all the story that the -trampled, disordered, bloody 
 chamber had to tell, and then he gave the one brief 
 order that would throw light upon the mystery. 
 
 " Bring hither to me the warden of the gate," 
 he growled. 
 
 Patrick Oge was voluble. Patrick Oge was fully 
 assured that he had acted correctly and with dis- 
 cretion. Yes, the dark lady had gone forth 
 
 " How long ago ? " Bryan Teige broke in savagely. 
 
 " Less than the half of an hour, and within a 
 minute or so I heard the creak of oars to the north- 
 ward. Doubtless the Spaniard had rowed out with 
 her to look upon the moon " 
 
 " So the other Spaniard was with our lady ? " 
 Bryan Teige asked almost calmly. 
 
 " Aye, assuredly, the Lord Pedro. One or other 
 of the twain is ever at her side " 
 
 Bryan Teige slackened the bridle of his rage. 
 
 " And you let them pass without a thought of 
 mischief, blockhead and witless fool ? Upon you 
 there rests the weight of our lady's peril. If a hair 
 of her head be harmed your death shall not be easy ! 
 What you dare to speak " 
 
 Bryan Teige's clenched fist crashed out with the 
 full weight of his long arm. Patrick Oge dropped 
 senseless, and Bryan turned to matters of import- 
 ance. 
 
 " Let every coracle be manned ! " he cried. 
 " Like enough the Spaniard led forth our lady under 
 threat of death. But his start is short, and we shall
 
 A DEATH CHASE AMONG THE ISLANDS 57 
 
 find him snared among the islands. Come, Donell ; 
 come without delay ! He must not live till dawn ! " 
 And he broke from the hall. 
 
 Men speak yet of that night chase three hundred 
 years ago among the tiny islands that swarm 
 beyond Achill Sound. You yourself, if it pleases 
 you, may thread the winding channels between 
 Inisboffm, Inisclerie, Inisdevellan and the rest. 
 
 You may see the shifting glint of the moonlight 
 upon the dark, restless water, the grim lowering 
 line of hills upon the mainland, and you may 
 picture that single coracle with its strange crew 
 the slim dark Spaniard tugging with delicate hands 
 at the heavy oars, seldom shifting the gaze of his 
 bright eyes from the white dauntless face of the 
 woman in the stern. 
 
 You may even picture that moment when the 
 Spaniard heard from far away the creak of many 
 oars, and knew that the death chase, inspired by 
 hate and love, was out behind him. I fancy for 
 my part that he laughed when he heard it ; laughed 
 with a gleam of white teeth like the snarl of a hunted 
 wolf, before he bent once more to his unaccustomed 
 toil. 
 
 He can have had little hope of life. Already his 
 overstrained muscles were tiring, and he had no 
 knowledge of the maze of winding channels in which 
 he was enmeshed. These men behind him would 
 be strong rowers, would have many boats, and they 
 must hunt him down at last. I think that he 
 had no clear plan at the back of his whirling 
 brain.
 
 58 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 If he could but outwit these dogs behind him for 
 a little while ; if he could but win to the open sea, 
 there beneath the quiet stars he would find a way 
 to convince this scornful woman of his hungry love. 
 
 Then, at least, she must hearken to him; then, 
 at least, she should understand the passion that 
 burnt his heart and brain. Afterward what would 
 it matter though death came swift and pitiless 
 behind his wooing ? 
 
 And Grana ? One fancies that in time a certain 
 exhilaration thrilled her blood, bred of the night 
 and the shifting moonlight and the very keenness 
 of her peril. There was in her a wild strain of utter 
 daring that nerved her spirit to meet almost with 
 gay pleasure the chances of life and death. 
 
 Behind her, she knew now, were the men who 
 loved her, straining nerve and sinew to achieve her 
 safety ; near to her, within hand's touch of her, was 
 this wild man, who had killed his brother for her 
 sake ; who had sworn that she should die if it 
 seemed that she must escape his love. Grana, 
 wrapped close in her dark cloak, clutching ever the 
 handle of her little dagger, found strength to wait 
 with calm. 
 
 They were close upon them now. Pedro Valdez's 
 arms were numb, and in his ears was the splash of 
 oars. Three channels opened before him, and the 
 tide was strong beneath his boat. What mattered 
 it which way he went, since the end was surely to 
 come ? He dragged in the useless oars, and loosened 
 his blade in its sheath. 
 
 The tide swept the coracle swiftly into the right- 
 hand channel, and she grounded lightly beyond the
 
 A DEATH CHASE AMONG THE ISLANDS 59 
 
 point of a little island. Here would be a fitting 
 place for his last fight. But ah, thanks to St. 
 Philip and all saints the light of the moon was 
 failing ! 
 
 Dark clouds were sweeping across its face. There 
 was still one slender chance. Grana saw the gleam 
 of Pedro Valdez's drawn sword, and she heard him 
 hiss, " If you cry out, you die ! " And then in thick 
 darkness they waited. 
 
 They heard the voices of the pursuers carried 
 clearly over the water. Only two boats were near, 
 it seemed. They held Red Donell and Bryan Teige. 
 They had found means to urge their rowers ahead 
 of all the rest. Bryan Teige was speaking. Pedro 
 Valdez knew well the voice of the lean, dissolute 
 giant in whose sombre eyes he had so often read 
 fierce hate. 
 
 " A curse upon this darkness ! Here be three 
 channels. Take you the middle one, Donell, and I 
 will try the right. That devil should not be far 
 ahead if only our luck is in ! " 
 
 Grana heard the Spaniard laugh very softly to 
 himself. All her senses were strained and un- 
 naturally keen. She even heard him tighten his 
 grip upon his hilt. 
 
 She was conscious of the salt haunting smell of 
 seaweed. Yes the end was come. What would 
 death be like ? For death was close upon her. Life 
 seemed strangely beautiful and precious. What 
 could she do with her tiny dagger against the 
 Spaniard's sword ? And then from far away up 
 the left-hand channel they heard the harsh scream 
 of startled gulls and a great sound of splashing.
 
 60 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 "By St. Patrick, they are yonder ! " they heard 
 Bryan Teige cry softly. " Their boat has disturbed 
 the gulls ! Up the left-hand channel, lads, and row 
 like devils ! " 
 
 When the sound of their oars was faint in the 
 distance the Spaniard spoke. 
 
 " I think that death has never been nearer to 
 either of us, senorita," he said softly, and Grana 
 drew a long breath. 
 
 For a while they stayed beside the little island, 
 and then the breeze dropped, and a sea-fog crept 
 up, blotting out all sights and sounds as with a 
 soft grey blanket. Pedro Valdez took to his oars 
 once more, and slowly he felt his way among the 
 maze of islands toward the open sea. 
 
 Time and again he heard the muffled cheep of his 
 pursuers' oars ; time and again blurred land opened 
 out before his bows, but chance or fate was with 
 him, and he was able to blunder on once more with- 
 out mishap. 
 
 The dawn found them in open water a haggard, 
 weary man and a white-faced woman adrift in a 
 crazy boat. The fog had lifted a fresh breeze had 
 sprung up from the land and was sweeping them 
 out to sea. 
 
 It was evening once more and they were still 
 afloat. But they were weak with hunger and their 
 lips were cracking with thirst. Grana watched 
 wearily the red sun dip into the sea and wondered 
 without dread when death would come. 
 
 Pedro Valdez had sat in baffled silence from the 
 moment when she had drawn her dagger and had
 
 A DEATH CHASE AMONG THE ISLANDS 61 
 
 sworn that she would kill herself if he laid hand 
 upon her. But she had not dared to sleep. 
 
 She had passed through long hours of torture that 
 few men and women could have borne. And now 
 she knew that at last her nerve was breaking. 
 
 Sorely against her will, with fierce contempt 
 even then for her own weakness, Grana of Achill 
 began to cry softly like any outworn woman. 
 
 The Spaniard was speaking hoarsely through 
 blackened lips. Was she dreaming, or did she hear 
 his words aright ? What miracle had turned this 
 man to pity ? He was begging her forgiveness, he 
 was cursing himself for his mad cruelty to the 
 bravest and the fairest lady in the world. He told 
 her that the wind had changed and that they might 
 yet win back to land. 
 
 He prayed her to try to sleep, for now he had no 
 thought save for her safety. And Grana believed 
 him, Grana allowed him to wrap his mantle about 
 her, Grana even let him touch her hand with his 
 parched lips. 
 
 She sank wearily to sleep like a tired child, and 
 the last sight she saw before she slept was Pedro 
 Valdez straining at the oars with slack arms that 
 would scarcely obey his will. 
 
 And behind them the west wind was softly 
 blowing that should waft one of them to friends and 
 safety, and the other to what ? 
 
 Three times through that night she started fear- 
 fully from sleep, and still he was forcing himself 
 to his hopeless task. Long afterward she remembered 
 how his dark, hollow eyes had looked upon her in the 
 moonlight ; long afterward she recalled how he had
 
 62 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 soothed her terror with words of hope and comfort 
 that^came harshly from his blistered lips and crack- 
 ing throat. 
 
 She woke once more in the red dawn, and could 
 scarcely believe her eyes. For land was in sight, a* 
 long line of the dark, misty land she loved, and^ 
 leaping toward her over the green waves was a ship 
 whose lines she knew. It was the " Red Horse," 
 manned by men who had not slept and had scarcely 
 eaten since their long search began. 
 
 They had been spurred by love and hate. But 
 the man whom they sought had fallen forward 
 above the oars that his raw hands still gripped, and 
 had passed beyond their vengeance.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 A STRANGE AND PRECIOUS HOSTAGE 
 
 FERRALL O'DOWDE sent courteous greeting 
 to Grana O'Malley dwelling for the time 
 in his castle of Ferrisowle. He gave notice 
 that her servant, Bryan Teige, upon whose life, it 
 was said, she set some value, was wounded and a 
 prisoner in his castle of Ballina. He added that 
 unless Ferrisowle were duly delivered back to him 
 within the week the aforesaid Bryan Teige would 
 assuredly hang high. 
 
 In short, Grana had made a bitter and powerful 
 enemy. The fact was not surprising. It was an 
 inevitable consequence to the pursuance of her 
 darling hope and ambition. It was in her mind to 
 get possession, by force or strategy, of every place 
 of strength along thirty miles of coast. 
 
 It may be said at once that in time Grana actually 
 did achieve this ambition, and was for a while well 
 nigh unassailable even by the might of England, 
 with God knows what further wild hopes and 
 dreams in her fertile mind. But that end was not 
 yet reached. 
 
 She had, however, made a fair beginning, as you 
 may gather from the message given above. It is 
 probable that Ferrall O'Dowde, in his greatness, 
 63
 
 64 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 knew little of Grana, until the entire garrison of 
 his southernmost castle of Ferrisowle brought him 
 vivid news of her. As a fact, they had been charged 
 with a misspelled letter to him from their con- 
 queror. Grana sent word to Ferrall that she had long 
 been grieved by the slack carelessness of his garrison 
 of Ferrisowle. Such men, she held, were unworthy 
 of their brisk lord. And so she had replaced them 
 with her own men. 
 
 She had not hurt his people they had slept too 
 soundly for any need of that. She was happy to 
 send them back to him unscathed seeing that they 
 were of no sort of use to herself. For the rest she 
 was Ferrall's humble servant, and the hospitality 
 of her castle of Ferrisowle would ever be extended 
 to her good lord. 
 
 They say that " her good lord " was moved 
 almost to frenzy by that insolent message, when 
 the ill-written scrawl had been spelled out to him 
 by a learned priest. 
 
 The Irish are all born courtiers, and this Ferrall 
 O'Dowde, who maintained the state of a little 
 prince, was used only to servile obedience and 
 flattery. 
 
 Half a dozen castles upon the coast were in his 
 hands, and he was little minded that their number 
 should be lessened. He was a young man and 
 handsome, filled hugely, even for an Irish chieftain, 
 with a sense of his own magnificence and power. He 
 could hardly believe that this woman, or any other, 
 would dare to brave the O'Dowde ! 
 
 It occurred to him, when the first mad tumult 
 of his wrath had slackened, that a certain indul-
 
 A STRANGE AND PRECIOUS HOSTAGE 65 
 
 gence would become him. Wherefore, when he had 
 soothed himself by the infliction of divers pains upon 
 the disgraced garrison, he sent back this answer to 
 Grana : 
 
 He was annoyed by her impudent act, but it 
 would not become the O'Dowde to war with women. 
 Also, he could but think that she had acted in jest. 
 At the least he was willing to treat her insolence 
 as a joke, seeing that, as he was told, she was young 
 and not ill-favoured. So let her come with due 
 humility to Ballina to pray pardon for her offence, 
 and in his clemency he would make no more of the 
 matter. 
 
 Grana, ceasing suddenly to jest, sent brief word 
 to the effect that she was otherwise engaged. 
 
 Whereupon Ferrall acted. He gathered his men 
 and he marched upon Ferrisowle. Kildownet, as 
 he knew, was practically impregnable against 
 assault. Besides, Grana herself was at Ferrisowle. 
 But he was to find that he had as well attacked 
 Kildownet. Grana, as usual, had not wasted her 
 time ; Grana had strengthened the defences of 
 her new castle ; Grana had brought thither her 
 best men and had stored provisions for many 
 months. 
 
 Also the season was late for siege work (for 
 which the Irish have ever lacked the patience), and 
 Grana, in the most cowardly fashion, refused flatly 
 to leave the shelter of her walls and fight against 
 long odds. To Ferrall this refusal appeared un- 
 sportsmanlike, almost immoral. 
 
 In his rage he flung his men against the walls in 
 a mad assault, leading the attack in person, for he 
 F
 
 66 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 was brave like all his race. It was a venture worthy 
 of a rash and angry child. The Irish stormer is 
 second to no fighter in the world in splendid dash, 
 but there are limits to his powers. 
 
 From that attack Ferrall drew off his baffled, 
 weary men at last. He was himself wounded, and 
 certain of his bravest men he left perforce behind 
 him. He withdrew to his stronghold of Ballina, 
 fifteen miles up the coast, nursing his shame and 
 rage. In his bruised vanity he was for a while 
 as a child who displays his hurts and clamours aloud 
 for sympathy and revenge. That is to say, he was 
 an Irishman, with the qualities and defects of his 
 blood. 
 
 And then, since force had failed, he turned to 
 cunning. Once again he sent a message to Grana 
 at Ferrisowle. It was too late in the year for regular 
 fighting, he said, but he saw his way to a pretty 
 deed of arms, if Grana were agreeable. She herself 
 was debarred from fighting, of course, but men told 
 great stories of the prowess of Bryan Teige, her 
 servant. If those tales were true, let him bring ten 
 picked men to a certain valley, midway between 
 Ferrisowle and Ballina, and he himself would come 
 thither with a like number. 
 
 Then would they fight with swords, and the 
 victory should decide once for all the peaceful 
 ownership of Ferrisowle. By the result of that 
 contest he would abide, if Grana would do likewise, 
 but, of course, it might be that Bryan Teige had 
 less heart for the fighting than the brave tales made 
 out! 
 
 Grana hearkened to that message (Ferrall was no
 
 A STRANGE AND PRECIOUS HOSTAGE 67 
 
 hand at penmanship), and laughed with thin, 
 tightened lips. She suspected treachery, and in 
 any case she had naught to gain by such knight- 
 errantry. 
 
 Ferrisowle was in her grip, and she was little 
 inclined to risk the stronghold upon such a boyish 
 chance of battle. 
 
 Despite her Irish blood, Grana's rash daring 
 was generally controlled by her cool head. But she 
 knew Bryan Teige and his vanity and his hot lust 
 for fight. She flung the lean giant a glance where 
 he stood beside her chair with twitching hands and 
 his sombre eyes aglow. 
 
 " You shall not go, Bryan," she said coolly. 
 
 " Not go, lady ? " he growled. " And this 
 mongrel O'Dowde will be saying that I fear him and 
 his lads ! " 
 
 " You have proved time and again that you fear 
 no man," she answered coldly. " I say that you 
 shall not go. Look to it, Bryan for you shall 
 answer with your head for disobedience ! " 
 
 Bryan Teige snarled like a balked wolf, then 
 stalked in silence from the room. And Grana gave 
 the ragged, long-haired herald her answer. It was 
 curt, for Bryan Teige had stirred her anger. She 
 did not love even a hint of defiance of her orders. 
 She sent word to Ferrall O'Dowde that she had 
 other uses for her men than the child's play that he 
 proposed. And she thought that the matter was 
 at an end. But Bryan Teige spoke privately with 
 the herald ere he left the castle. 
 
 For the next two days he was more moody -and 
 silent than his wont, and during that time he did
 
 68 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 not practise abstinence. Men left him to his sullen 
 drinking, not daring even to speak to him. Even 
 Grana left him to himself, judging that he was 
 sulking because of the forbidden fight. 
 
 It was characteristic of Grana that she never 
 seriously entertained the possibility of her order 
 being disobeyed. But upon the third day, that day 
 which Ferrall O'Dowde had suggested for the 
 meeting in the valley, Bryan Teige was missing. 
 
 And next morning definite news of him came in 
 from no less a person than Ferrall O'Dowde. That 
 news was the message with which this chapter 
 opens. 
 
 Ferrall's plan had succeeded more completely 
 than he had dared to hope. Certainly, in his know- 
 ledge of his countrymen's weaknesses, he had relied 
 upon Bryan Teige accepting his challenge. He had 
 known that his cunning taunts would sting the man's 
 half-childish vanity, and he had had good hopes that 
 his picked men would be able to secure so valuable 
 a prisoner. But he had not counted upon Bryan 
 Teige coming alone to the trysting place ! 
 
 If only one might roll back the drab years for 
 one short half-hour and see for oneself that meeting 
 of which men yet speak in the long winter nights ! 
 To see that lonely valley beneath the sweep of the 
 grey, mist-clad Irish hills, and that group of armed 
 men waiting for the fight like quivering, crouching 
 dogs ! More than all, to see the single gaunt, 
 ragged figure ride recklessly upon its fate ! 
 
 They did not take Bryan Teige with ease. The 
 death-seeker justified his grim name, the long, 
 deadly sword and the long, lean arms swept clear
 
 A STRANGE AND PRECIOUS HOSTAGE 69 
 
 for a while a circle that none might pass. The 
 gritting clash of steel rang up to the brooding- hills 
 as the giant fought berserk, with mad, wild, laughing 
 glee. 
 
 Ferrall O'Dowde had given stern orders that the 
 man must not be slain as well had you tried to 
 take a tiger with bare hands ! Not till those orders 
 were clean forgotten in the red whirl of battle did it 
 seem that the eleven might prevail against the one. 
 Then at last, when his arms were numb and weary 
 with the fearful strain, Bryan Teige went crashing 
 down, with half a dozen deep wounds upon him, 
 with the hilt of his snapped sword yet fast gripped 
 in his hand. 
 
 They bound up his wounds and looked to their 
 own, and carried him in triumph to Ballina. But 
 the grey mist from the hills swept down into the 
 silent valley, and wrapped as in a shroud the 
 stiffening bodies of three men. Their lives were the 
 price that had been paid for the capture of Bryan 
 Teige. 
 
 They say that Grana received that taunting 
 message in a fashion strangely quiet. She neither 
 raved nor stormed, but her face whitened a little 
 and her lips set tight. She saw her plans ruined 
 and her pride humiliated by the disobedience of her 
 servant. Her jest with Ferrall had grown strangely 
 bitter upon her lips. 
 
 But Grana and the quality is rare in women 
 could face an ill turn of fortune with the calm of the 
 good gambler. She dismissed Ferrall's herald for 
 the time, and she looked around her at the faces of 
 Red Donell and the rest.
 
 70 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " What would you have me do ? " she asked, and 
 her voice was almost gentle. 
 
 Red Donell gnawed his thick fingers. Red Donell 
 scratched his tangled, fiery head. Wisdom would 
 not always come at a moment's notice to Red Donell. 
 But his muscles were never slack. 
 
 "It would seem, lady, that Ferrisowle that 
 Ferrisowle must be given up ! " he said doubtfully. 
 And the others murmured their agreement. 
 , But Grana answered with curtness : 
 
 " I will not yield up Ferrisowle I had sooner 
 die ! " she snapped, and her long fingers gripped 
 together as though they held the castle in their 
 clutch. 
 
 Red Donell and the others recognised that tone. 
 
 " Then bid us storm Ballina Castle, lady," he 
 said in a voice of relief. The crude simplicity of the 
 plan was pleasing to his mind. There was little 
 subtlety about Red Donell. 
 
 " You are a fool ! " Grana told him with swift 
 discourtesy. " There is no hope of a surprise, and 
 as well might you try to pull down the castle with 
 your hands. You should know by now that it is 
 not my habit to waste men." 
 
 Red Donell shrugged his thick shoulders. He 
 recognised vaguely that his mistress, when in 
 trouble, was ill to deal with. 
 
 " Then then it seems that Bryan must die ! " 
 he said sullenly. 
 
 Grana's eyes began to gleam. 
 
 " Because it is by his folly that we have come to 
 this pass ? " she asked with a curious smoothness. 
 
 " Aye, lady," Red Donell answered, fancying in
 
 A STRANGE AND PRECIOUS HOSTAGE 71 
 
 his folly that he had pleased his mistress. Life 
 was wondrously cheap in Ireland, and he himself 
 owed little loyalty to Bryan Teige. The others 
 growled their assent. The Irish are too fickle and 
 light of head for stubborn friendship. Then Grana 
 rose swiftly to her feet, and they slunk back before 
 her eyes. 
 
 " So you would sacrifice Bryan Teige ? " she 
 asked. " You would leave him to die in Ballina ? 
 I tell you that I would cheerfully give you, one and 
 all, to death, ere he should come to harm ! " 
 
 Then her anger choked her, and for a moment she 
 glared at them in silence. 
 
 " Who are you that you should dare to judge his 
 folly ? " she snarled at last. " Are you not the 
 men who, when my father lay dead, forgot your 
 faith and loyalty with such swiftness who turned 
 upon me in my trouble ? You have forgotten that, 
 I do not doubt ; but I I do not forget ! Even as 
 I do not forget the one man who stood beside me, 
 who was true to me when all others failed, who 
 risked his life for me blithely. And that man was 
 Bryan Teige. Oh, you do well to advise that I 
 should leave him to his death ! " 
 
 It is not suggested that Grana in that moment 
 was just or reasonable. She was a woman and 
 sorely tried. Red Donell bowed his head sullenly 
 and spoke no word of the other proposals that he 
 had made. He recognised that the moment was 
 unseasonable for argument. 
 
 " I tell you that he shall not die ! " Grana cried. 
 "If I must go forth to aid him without a man 
 behind me he shall not die ! "
 
 72 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 It will be observed that Grana, like many another 
 woman in trouble, clutched at rhetoric rather than 
 reason. 
 
 " What would you have us do, lady ? " Red 
 Donell asked almost timidly. 
 
 " You ? " Grana cried. " I would have you be 
 silent, for the dolts and helpless fools you are ! 
 Go forth and maze your brains with the liquor 
 that you love, seeing that they are useless for aught 
 else ! " 
 
 And they went forth from her audience chamber, 
 slinking like whipped dogs. Grana did not rule her 
 people entirely by her charm. She sat alone when 
 they were gone, racking her brains for a plan that 
 would not come. Only two things were plain to 
 her. She would not yield Ferrisowle, and she would 
 not leave Bryan Teige to die. 
 
 For the rest well, she had a week. Ah, and she 
 would use it she would not sit there idle ! An 
 idea had come to her that would at least give 
 action to her limbs and brain. Oh ! anything in 
 the world, any risk or peril, was better than sitting 
 there in impotence, brooding over this sore mis- 
 chance. 
 
 Grana summoned her serving-woman and gave 
 her certain orders that rilled her with amazement. 
 Then the two worked feverishly for the half of an 
 hour, and when their task was done Grana bade 
 her woman bring Red Donell to the chamber. 
 
 He came in some trepidation, prepared for almost 
 any mood or caprice from his wilful lady. But 
 for what he found he was not prepared. For Grana 
 had vanished, and in her chair there sat a peasant
 
 A STRANGE AND PRECIOUS HOSTAGE 73 
 
 woman, middle-aged and hideous, who spoke with 
 Grana's own imperious voice ! 
 
 Grana had been brave beyond the wont of women. 
 She had cast aside for a while her beauty and her 
 youth. She had stained the clear gold of her face 
 a harsh and hideous brown ; she had drawn wrinkles 
 upon its smoothness ; she had marred one cheek 
 with the dark snarl of a scar. Her black, glossy 
 hair she had tangled into elf-locks, and its splendid 
 plenty she had hidden beneath a ragged shawl. Her 
 hands were stained and roughened, and her slender 
 feet were bare. Her clothes were humble and sadly 
 worn. 
 
 Only her dark, keen eyes were unalterable. They 
 were bright with laughter as they looked upon 
 Red Donell's heavy, bewildered face. 
 
 " Donell," she said smoothly, " let Ferrall's 
 herald be fed and courteously treated and dismissed. 
 I have no answer for his master." 
 
 " Aye, lady, it shall be done," Red Donell stam- 
 mered. 
 
 " You know not what to make of me, Donell ? 
 Well, I may not sit idly here. I am going to Ballina 
 to spy out the land. I will not trust the thick wits 
 of any of our spies. Let a coracle and three rowers 
 be ready within the hour." 
 
 Red Donell's massive jaw dropped as he stared 
 and listened. 
 
 " You are going to Ballina, lady ? " he gasped. 
 " Nay, it is madness ! If your disguise be pierced, 
 what will be your plight and ours ? Lady, I pray 
 you to give up this plan to let me go in your 
 stead ! "
 
 74 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Grana frowned a trifle. 
 
 " You will hold this castle while I am gone," she 
 said coolly. " You are better at the fighting than 
 the scheming, Donell. And that red bull's head and 
 neck of yours would need a thick disguise ! For 
 the rest see that the boat be ready. I would land 
 within a mile of Ballina when the dusk is falling." 
 
 And in the dusk she landed. She left her men 
 with the coracle in a little creek, and alone she set 
 out toward the castle. Do you see her trudging 
 through the twilight upon her soft white feet along 
 an infamous rutted track ? I believe that in her 
 heart she revelled in this venture, although as yet 
 she had formed no definite plan of action, although 
 she was well aware of the utter peril toward which 
 she moved. 
 
 For things far worse than death might threaten a 
 woman in the wild Ireland of those days. But it 
 was to her daring fancy, it tickled her splendid 
 self-reliance, this lonely hazard into the enemy's 
 very clutch, with naught to lean on save her own 
 courage and resource. Grana was at her best and 
 happiest in such an hour, when for a while she had 
 discarded her cunning policies and prudent schem- 
 ing. 
 
 She came without adverture to the castle, and 
 through the grey evening mists she peered up at 
 its gaunt, towering walls. Somewhere within them 
 lay Bryan Teige, wounded and a prisoner Bryan 
 Teige who had been faithful to her in her sorest 
 need. Grana was no saint, but at least she could be 
 a friend who would not fail. She had no thought in
 
 A STRANGE AND PRECIOUS HOSTAGE 75 
 
 that moment for the man's reckless folly and costly 
 disobedience. 
 
 She was there to aid him and to pluck him from 
 this trap. Nor did she think of the odds against 
 her, of how pitiful seemed her weak woman's 
 strength beneath those lofty walls. Grana was never 
 apt at self-pity, nor was she to be cowed with ease. 
 
 She turned away at last. Perhaps upon the 
 morrow she would seek humble service in the castle, 
 or half a dozen vague schemes were forming in 
 her ready brain. But to-night she would find 
 shelter in a cottage. From the talk of its inmates 
 she might win information of value. 
 
 She had marked a likely hovel as she passed upon 
 her way to the castle. Just such a low, white hut 
 as you may see by scores in the Ireland of to-day. 
 Grana found her way thither, and was at once 
 made welcome with the true royal hospitality of the 
 Irish. That also does not change with the grey, 
 fleeting years. 
 
 She had her tale, of course, and a little bundle in 
 her hand. She was upon her way on foot to visit 
 a sick sister in a certain village to the north. She 
 was brought into the one living and sleeping room, 
 where, through the blue, fragrant reek of the peat 
 fire, children and animals were dimly visible. In- 
 deed and indeed, the Irish are the one unchanging 
 race of the world. 
 
 The best of the benches was the guest's by right, 
 and the best of the simple food was set before her. 
 Grana knew her people well, and was at once at 
 ease with the shrewdly simple man and woman of 
 the little house.
 
 76 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Two small, ragged children stared timidly at her 
 for a while, and then, with a sudden rush, forgot 
 their fears. Grana played with them and peered 
 about her as she ate. She was puzzled by but one 
 thing in the dim chamber. 
 
 There was nothing strange about that cradle of 
 dark bog-oak in which a sturdy baby was sleeping, 
 but what was the meaning of that other cradle, 
 richly carved and bound with silver, which stood 
 nearer to the smouldering peat, and held a child 
 some twelve months old whose garments seemed to 
 be of silk ? 
 
 Grana wondered, the while she played her part 
 like the born actress that she was. 
 
 There came a sudden knock at the door, and a 
 tall, red-headed serving-man put his shock head 
 within. " The O'Dowde ! " he announced pom- 
 pously, and stood aside to let the great man enter. 
 And Grana gave a little gasp, despite her self- 
 control, as Ferrall himself came in. 
 
 He was a tall man, so that he must bend his head 
 beneath the stone lintel of the door. He was very 
 richly clad in a fashion that would be garish to 
 modern eyes, and his sword-hilt was of silver gilt. 
 He was handsome, as has been said, and his manner 
 to these humble folk was the happy blend of dignity 
 and familiarity that the Irish ever love from those 
 above them. 
 
 Grana stood up with the rest, and Ferrall shot 
 one keen glance at her face. It sent a thrill through 
 her, for she knew well what recognition would mean. 
 She dropped her eyes humbly, and Ferrall listened 
 to a whispered explanation of her presence from her
 
 A STRANGE AND PRECIOUS HOSTAGE 77 
 
 host. It satisfied him apparently, for he gave her 
 a courteous word as he passed toward the richer 
 of the two cradles. 
 
 Grana watched him with eager curiosity scarcely 
 veiled, and saw him swing up the sleeping baby in 
 his arms. It woke and laughed as though it knew 
 who held it. Grana's brain was working swiftly. 
 Why should Ferrall come to this humble cottage 
 and show his affection for the child in this fashion ? 
 He was laughing proudly as he kissed it. It must 
 surely be his little son ! Ah, she had been dull to 
 be puzzled. She should have guessed that this 
 baby belonged to the lord of Ballina, and had been 
 put out with foster parents, after the Irish fashion. 
 
 And in a flash she saw the plan for which she had 
 been groping, for which she had ventured more 
 than her life. Here was a most precious hostage 
 that should be set against the life of Bryan Teige ! 
 
 For the actual methods she must trust to the 
 wits that God had given her, but the end was 
 plain at last. And her pride would be saved ah ! 
 that touched Grana of Achill most nearly ! In her 
 sudden joy and triumph she was very near to 
 laughing aloud. 
 
 But not too soon she set guard upon her lips. She 
 stood humbly in her corner while the foster-mother 
 spoke to Ferrall of her charge, and she forced her- 
 self to curtsy with bowed head when the great man 
 went forth at last. And all the while her brain was 
 seeking and rejecting schemes. 
 
 It was the woman of the cottage who gave her 
 her cue in the end. Her curiosity and ready super- 
 stition had been aroused by something in Grana's
 
 78 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 appearance. From the first she had regarded her 
 with an odd mixture .of nervous fascination and fear. 
 She had whispered to her husband that there was 
 surely something fearsome about a woman with such 
 bright young eyes set in an old face. And when they 
 gathered about the red peat after Ferrall's departure 
 she began to speak in a tentative fashion of the 
 Little People. It was as though she would draw out 
 her guest to talk. 
 
 And Grana rose to the bait, swift to see how she 
 might work upon the superstition that is still almost 
 as strong in the heart of the Irish peasant as it was 
 three hundred years ago. 
 
 Beyond all question Grana herself was not free 
 from a shrinking belief in the fairies and spirits 
 that haunted the mist-clad hills, but she was strong 
 enough of heart to dare to use these awesome beings 
 for her own ends. And so, when the woman spoke 
 indirectly of the fairies, she answered readily in a 
 low, earnest voice : 
 
 " Aye, it is upon such a night as this that they 
 love to be abroad. Who should know it better 
 than I ? " 
 
 The woman and her husband crossed themselves. 
 
 " Will you have seen them lately, acushla ? " 
 the former asked fearfully. 
 
 "I see them often," Grana answered impres- 
 sively. And she went on to tell a story, a really 
 awe-inspiring story, of how, as she lay in bed one 
 night in her cottage, the door had opened noiselessly, 
 despite the bolts, and Something had come in. 
 
 It had seated itself by the fireside, and in the 
 glow of the peat she had seen its huge, shapeless
 
 A STRANGE AND PRECIOUS HOSTAGE 79 
 
 bulk. Her blood had run icy cold with terror, but 
 somehow she had kept her senses until the thing 
 rose and moved toward her. She had caught a 
 glimpse of its dim face, part animal, part devil. 
 Then the room had whirled round, and for two long 
 days and nights she had lain as one dead. 
 
 It was a good story, told with a rare wealth of 
 vaguely gruesome and suggestive detail, and I only 
 regret that I have not space for it in full. It must 
 suffice to say that the mere telling of it shook 
 Grana's own nerves very sorely. As for the man 
 and woman, it reduced them to a state of quivering 
 terror that yet had in it a certain element of dread- 
 ful joy. 
 
 " That would be a demon," the woman quavered 
 at last. " The dear saints defend us from such ! 
 But the Good People have you had dealings with 
 them, O stranger woman ? " 
 
 Yes, it appeared that Grana had. They had 
 stopped her one wonderful night upon the hills, 
 tiny men and women marvellously clad, and they 
 had told her that they loved her and were her 
 friends. More than this (and Grana's voice became 
 more richly earnest), they had given her a certain 
 unfailing charm by which she could bring good luck 
 and lasting health to all children. Here Grana 
 broke off most artistically and gazed dreamily at 
 the red gleam of the fire. 
 
 There was a hush of awe, and then the mother 
 found courage to speak, after a loving glance at the 
 humble cradle of bog-oak. 
 
 " What is the charm may you tell it to us, 
 acushla ? " she whispered coaxingly.
 
 80 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " I tell it to few," Grana answered doubtfully. 
 " It is not well to squander the Little People's gifts. 
 But it is one of their nights to-night, and I may 
 feel them in the air. Upon such a night as this, 
 when the moon is quivering behind the dancing, 
 hurrying clouds, she who knows the charm must go 
 forth alone into the air with the thrice lucky baby 
 in her arms. 
 
 " When the moon shines brightly for the moment 
 she must whisper certain words, which I dare not 
 tell you. Then, when the clouds sweep once again 
 before the moon, and the world is dark, the Little 
 People will come forth and stroke the baby's face 
 with their small fingers. That is all, but while it 
 lives that baby will be blessed." 
 
 There was another pause, and then the woman, 
 having whispered to her husband, spoke again. 
 
 " Will you, stranger woman, of your great good- 
 ness, bring this fortune upon our baby ? " she asked 
 very humbly. 
 
 Grana appeared to hesitate, and then 
 
 " Yes, I will do it," she promised with impulsive 
 generosity. " You have been good to me. Each 
 of these babies in turn shall hear the whispered 
 charm." 
 
 The man muttered something, as though in 
 doubt, but the woman brushed aside his shadowy 
 fears. 
 
 " Shall we not bring a blessing upon the child of 
 our lord ? " she asked indignantly. " Should not 
 the O'Dowde bless us for ever if we do this thing ? 
 But he is our lord, and his child should be more to 
 us than our own. So let our baby go out first to
 
 A STRANGE AND PRECIOUS HOSTAGE 81 
 
 meet the Little People, and then, if all is well with 
 him, the little lord shall have their blessing." 
 
 The father agreed to this with some timidity, 
 and, trembling herself a little, the mother put her 
 own baby into Grana's arms. We in our wisdom 
 may sneer at the credulous folly of the act, but there 
 was courage in it also. 
 
 And Grana, smiling to herself, and yet strangely 
 nervous, carried the child into the misty night. 
 They say that it was the first baby she had ever 
 held. For five minutes, it may be, she stood be- 
 neath the cloudy sky, and then she brought her 
 charge back to the anxious pair who waited. 
 
 As it chanced, the baby was laughing as they 
 returned, and the sight removed all fear from its 
 parents. Surely the Little People had been pleased 
 with their wonderful baby and would be kind ! 
 With muttered prayers of gratitude they gave their 
 foster-child to Grana, and prayed that she would 
 win for it a like portion of good luck and happiness. 
 
 And Grana went forth. 
 
 I cannot but be sorry for those two good, simple 
 people who had meant so well. For five minutes 
 they waited and thought no harm. Five more went 
 by and still they suspected nothing. When at last 
 they mastered their fears of the Little People and 
 went forth to seek the stranger woman and the 
 precious child well, as you may fancy, it was then 
 too late. I do not care to think of their wild, heart- 
 broken search through the long, dark, fairy-haunted 
 night. 
 
 And Grana ? The moon was hidden, and some- 
 how she lost her way. She was to pay for her theft 
 G
 
 82 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 with some long moments of real heart-chilling fear. 
 For, when she had wandered blindly for a while, 
 she heard voices, and had but just time to crouch 
 beneath a bush before two shadowy figures loomed 
 in sight. 
 
 Grana drew her shawl more closely about the 
 child in her arms, and crouched like a hunted hare. 
 And the moon chose that moment of all others to 
 break dimly forth behind the clouds ! For the 
 second time that night Grana was within a yard or 
 so of Ferrall O'Dowde. 
 
 In that moment at least she knew the sickness of 
 fear. For the child was awake, and oh ! what if it 
 should cry ? But it did not do so, and Ferrall went 
 slowly past toward the castle. And Grana rose, 
 shivering still as though with ague, and saw her 
 path clear before her in the moonlight. 
 
 Afterward you see her speeding barefooted 
 through the night, heedless of stones and weariness, 
 but strangely careful that her small, warm burden 
 should escape all hurt. You see her holding the 
 baby awkwardly at first, and then with a greater 
 skill. For in such matters a woman has instinct 
 for guide. 
 
 You see her gain the boat at last, and rouse her 
 slumbering rowers, and then glide swiftly with her 
 tiny hostage through the fragrant night to Ferris- 
 owle. 
 
 And the rest needs but little telling. For the 
 message that Grana sent to Ferrall O'Dowde 
 brought that great man to his knees with speed, 
 and he hurried to Ferrisowle bearing with him his 
 late prisoner, Bryan Teige, weak with his wounds
 
 A STRANGE AND PRECIOUS HOSTAGE 88 
 
 and strangely humble. Ferrisowle and even his 
 own vanity weighed little in Ferrall's eyes against 
 the safety of his son. 
 
 But one thing is curious and must be told. They 
 say that Grana was loath to give up the baby, that 
 she delayed the surrender of her small hostage in 
 the strangest fashion. They say that the child was 
 her treasured plaything until the anxious father 
 came. You had scarcely guessed that of Grana, 
 remembering other things in which she took delight, 
 But women are beyond all rules.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 GRANA MEETS ONE PROUDER THAN HERSELF 
 
 CT it should be thought that Grana in her 
 triumphs was something more than mortal, 
 this chapter tells of her crushing humiliation 
 and defeat. Incidentally it serves also to show, as 
 I fancy, that she could be greater in failure than 
 success. Which quality is somewhat rare in this 
 limp world. 
 
 But there was little thought of failure in Grana 's 
 heart that bright spring morning as the " Red 
 Horse " leaped the glinting wave ridges in eager 
 chase. As a fact, Grana at this time was a trifle 
 drunken with success. It had dulled her prudence, 
 and in her Irish vanity she had forgotten that it 
 is apt to breed many foes. 
 
 But Grana was out for diversion and amusement, 
 Grana rated this pirate sport of hers high above 
 even the plunder that it brought, Grana had no 
 thought save for the fleeing hapless merchant ship 
 behind whose creaming wake the " Red Horse " 
 plunged and tore. It was a true Irish morning, sunny 
 between dark rain showers, and its keen sparkle and 
 the scent and zest of the sea fired her blood. 
 
 So you see Grana the pirate, Grana the sea rover 
 intent upon her darling trade. 
 84
 
 A PROUDER ONE THAN GRANA 85 
 
 But that merchant ship was strangely swift, and 
 for once the " Red Horse " had almost met her 
 match. The home lair of Achill Sound was left 
 far to the south, dark Slievemore was dim in the 
 misty distance, and still the " Red Horse " gained 
 only foot by foot upon her prey. 
 
 But the south-east wind freshened to half a gale, 
 the " Red Horse " lay almost gunwale under and 
 hissed like a sea snake through the grey rollers, and 
 by noon she was within short gunshot of the reeling, 
 staggering trader. Grana, light-footed and agile 
 upon the slippery decks, made her way forward to 
 where the men were clustered about a culverin hi 
 the bows. 
 
 " Give her a shot, Bryan, and let us end this 
 child's play," she ordered, and her dark eyes were 
 gleaming beneath her spray-wet hair. 
 
 " It is ill weather for marksmanship, lady," Bryan 
 Teige grumbled, and then : " By the Red Steel, 
 whither is she heading ? " 
 
 The trader had put down her helm and was 
 plunging, close-hauled, straight for the land. 
 
 " Will they run her ashore to escape us ? " 
 Bryan Teige asked in angry wonder. " No, by 
 all the saints, they are heading for yon open- 
 ing ! " 
 
 The dark jagged hills came down to the sea's 
 verge, but Bryan Teige was pointing to a narrow 
 streak of smooth water that ran inland beyond the 
 tumbling foam. It had been hidden from view by 
 a black snarling foreland. The fool glanced doubt- 
 fully at his mistress. 
 
 " It may be ill to follow, lady," he said. " It
 
 86 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 were to run our heads into a noose perchance. We 
 are far from our own country." 
 
 For a moment Grana hesitated and then her red 
 lips closed firm. 
 
 " We will follow, Bryan ! " she cried, and she 
 laughed aloud in reckless glee. " Though all our 
 foes be waiting, we will follow ! Shall Grana of 
 Achill lose a prize that is within her very hand ? " 
 And there was that in her laughter and her eyes that 
 fired her men. 
 
 When Grana of Achill led there were few who 
 cared to lag behind. They sent a mad cheer ringing 
 across the water, and only Bryan Teige scowled 
 and muttered forebodingly as the " Red Horse " 
 made for the frowning land. But he dared make no 
 further remonstrance. Since he had put himself in 
 the clutches of Ferrall O'Dowde, as has been told, 
 he had been somewhat out of favour with his 
 imperious lady. Grana treated him now almost as 
 she treated Red Donell and the rest. And no man 
 knew of the fierce pain that Bryan Teige hid in his 
 sullen heart because of his disgrace. 
 
 It was apparent that the trader's crew were no 
 strangers to those menacing waters. W T ith never a 
 check their craft held on, and the " Red Horse " 
 must follow since Grana of Achill willed it. The 
 narrow passage between dark, close, huddling cliffs 
 was made with safety, and up the smooth water of 
 the long inlet the two vessels skimmed with no 
 more than a hundred yards between them. The 
 tide had lately turned, and against it the " Red 
 Horse " drew steadily upon the fugitive. Her prize 
 was almost in her grip.
 
 A PROUDER ONE THAN GRANA 87 
 
 Grana was in the bows among her shouting men, 
 when Bryan Teige plucked at her arm. She turned 
 impatiently at his touch, and then for a long moment 
 she stood as though turned to stone, taking in 
 that which the fool alone had seen. Three war-ships 
 had rounded the point and were making up the inlet 
 behind them. The " Red Horse " was cut off from 
 the sea. It was Bryan Teige who spoke. 
 
 " It is in my mind that we are in a trap, lady," 
 he said. " Likely enough those three lay hid 
 behind the northern point of this accursed creek. 
 And there is the decoy that has lured us blindly 
 into the snare ! Hearken to them now ! " 
 
 It was true enough. The crew of the merchant 
 ship had seen their allies, and their exultant mocking 
 cries told their own tale. And now men swarmed 
 from below upon her decks and her bows swung 
 round. The four ships closed upon the " Red Horse," 
 and the gulls rose screaming at the first roar of their 
 guns. Upon all their decks men were howling and 
 dancing for fierce joy. Was not Grana of Achill 
 beguiled and trapped at last ? 
 
 But they scarcely knew Grana of Achill. For 
 one little moment longer she stood in thought 
 and her brain was clear and keen. This inlet and 
 this country were strange to her and hostile. If 
 she brushed past the single ship she would but run 
 into greater peril with little hope of final escape. 
 Well then there was but one alternative ! And 
 its bare, naked daring thrilled to flame the wild 
 blood that ran in Grana's veins. 
 
 " Get to the guns, lads ! " she called, and her 
 eyes were like torches upon a wintry night. " And
 
 88 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 you, Bryan, aft, to the helm with me ! We will 
 break a way through these rogues who think to 
 trap us, and out in open water who may hope to 
 follow my ' Red Horse ' ? " 
 
 She had the knack of heartening men with her 
 own wondrous spirit, so that a forlorn hope was 
 painted with the colours of certain victory. Her 
 crew answered with an exultant roar as the " Red 
 Horse " surged round upon her heel. The tide was 
 strong beneath her, and as her sails bellied out a 
 thick white frill of foam creamed high before her 
 bows. The sun broke from dark leaden clouds as 
 she tore down into that unequal fight. 
 
 It shone upon the men crouching by their guns, 
 upon Bryan Teige clutching the long tiller, upon 
 Grana of Achill swaying beside him, fearless and 
 lovely as a goddess of war. And her men, beneath 
 the spell of her high courage and her magic beauty, 
 yelled and yelled again, and Bryan Teige, freeing 
 one hand from the tiller, drew his long sword and 
 tossed it flashing high into air, and caught it as it 
 fell. 
 
 So they sped down upon their fate. 
 
 The crews of those three war-ships may well have 
 thought them mad. But they prepared to give 
 them royal greeting. The "Red Horse" had the 
 vantage of wind and tide, but they might hope to 
 block the narrow channel. When her sharp bow 
 was fifty yards away the three war-ships shivered 
 up into the wind and their broadsides crashed. 
 
 The " Red Horse " reeled like a living thing that 
 feels a mortal blow, and for a moment she swerved 
 from her course. A huge splinter had struck Bryan
 
 A PROUDER ONE THAN GRANA 89 
 
 Teige and stretched him upon the deck. But 
 Grana caught the tiller in the nick of time and 
 strove to peer through the blinding smoke. 
 
 Her ears were deafened by the smash of spars, 
 the screams of the wounded, and the roar of her own 
 guns. She held the " Red Horse " desperately upon 
 her course, and she cried aloud half consciously as 
 a gap opened in the dim line before her. The helms- 
 man of the middle ship was down There was a 
 
 jarring, grinding crash as the " Red Horse " tore 
 her way for freedom. 
 
 They fired into her as she broke past ; they flung 
 grapnels, men even leapt aboard her but she 
 fought free. The grapnel ropes were slashed away 
 and borne upon tide and wind, battered and quiver- 
 ing and sorely hurt, the " Red Horse " staggered 
 past the headlands out to the open sea. 
 
 But she had paid a bitter price for freedom. Grana 
 looked along her splintered, furrowed decks, and 
 her first warm triumph died away. One-half of 
 her men at least were killed or hurt, and even as 
 she looked the mainmast, sore wounded, came 
 crashing down. The " Red Horse " wallowed in 
 the trough almost a wreck, and already she was 
 deeper in the water. 
 
 The saints alone knew how many shots she had 
 received in her stout hull. What state were they 
 in for flight or further battle ? And yet soon enough 
 they must fight once more or yield. 
 
 Yield ? There was something in the very word 
 that roused Grana of Achill from her moment's 
 despair with the courage of a wounded lion. She 
 called a man to the helm, then ran forward, and by
 
 90 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 voice and example spurred heart into such of her 
 crew as could stand upon their feet. 
 
 Under her direction they cut away the wreck of 
 the mainmast and gave steerage way to the " Red 
 Horse." And then one gleam of good cheer came to 
 Grana in her bitter strait. For Bryan Teige had 
 regained his senses and staggered doggedly to his 
 feet once more. 
 
 " What is your counsel, Bryan ? " Grana asked. 
 
 The fool looked about him, keen, resourceful, and 
 indomitable as ever when things were at their worst. 
 
 " We seemed to have filled their hands with work 
 for the moment, lady," he said. " But they will 
 be upon us shortly. We cannot run, and the ' Red 
 Horse ' will sink beneath our feet if we try to fight 
 her. It will be well to make for shore or stay ! 
 Let us run for yon small island beyond the point ! 
 See you the grey ruin upon its crag ? There shall 
 we make it good against them for a time at 
 least ! " 
 
 It was clearly their one hope. Grana nodded 
 without speech and the sluggish " Red Horse " was 
 steered for the little island. 
 
 Ere they reached it the sails of three of their 
 pursuers came into view. The fourth had sunk 
 within the inlet and the others had tarried to save 
 her crew. Now they gained rapidly upon the " Red 
 Horse," but her start enabled her to make the 
 island first. 
 
 She was run ashore in a tiny bay, and then with 
 all speed the wounded were landed, together with 
 such water and provisions as might be carried. 
 Grana urged on the work, while Bryan Teige made
 
 A PROUDER ONE THAN GRANA 91 
 
 his swift way to the grey shell of ancient stone upon 
 the rocks above. 
 
 He returned with the welcome news that one 
 tower was sound and might be held even by their 
 small force. And then began the slow-burdened 
 clamber up the narrow winding path. But they 
 must fight once more, despite their wounds and 
 aching weariness, ere their sorry refuge might be 
 gained. 
 
 For now their pursuers were hard upon them. 
 They had run their ships into the cove beside the 
 " Red Horse," and were splashing through the water 
 with fierce yells. Bryan Teige gathered six of his 
 hardiest men and spoke swiftly to Grana. 
 
 " I pray you, lady, to hasten these other to 
 shelter and to be ready to cover our retreat," he 
 said. " Here at the turn of the path we will hold 
 back these mongrel dogs for a little while." 
 
 And Grana obeyed. She was little practised in 
 obedience, and she was not apt at leaving others to 
 face peril, but here she had no choice. She touched 
 the fool's shoulder not ungently with her hand. 
 " You have wiped out the old score with handsome- 
 ness, Bryan ! " she murmured briefly, and then she 
 turned away to spur the laggards. Bryan Teige 
 looked after her for a moment with deep-set glowing 
 eyes, and then he spat upon his hands and spoke 
 with cheerful blasphemy to the men behind 
 him. 
 
 I confess to some little enthusiasm for Bryan 
 Teige. To my fancy he looms very clear and vivid, 
 standing there with grim laughter, stubborn and 
 gaunt as the grey rocks above him, gripping his
 
 92 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 long sword in his scarred hands. Men did not love 
 him overmuch in peaceful hours they were moved 
 to prudently secret scorn by his drunken buffoonery 
 and crazy bragging, but in such an hour as this the 
 men he led came near to worship him. 
 
 His gleeful berserk courage and his long, lean 
 arms were worth a dozen swords. But he roused 
 little enthusiasm of affection in those who fought 
 against him ! 
 
 They came upon him now, clambering up the 
 winding path expectant of easy victory, and the 
 welcome he made them was bitter upon their lips. 
 The way was narrow, his sword-sweep was worthy 
 of Thor himself, and the men he led were roused to 
 emulation. 
 
 Till their arms grew stiff and numb they held that 
 path and then they gave way slowly, like snarling, 
 reluctant wolves whipped back from food. At the 
 crest, when their work was done, Bryan Teige dis- 
 missed them one and all to shelter, and for one or, 
 it may be, two minutes he stood alone, beating 
 down all who came. 
 
 Then with a shrill yell he ran like a gaunt hound 
 for the tower, and as he came Grana and all her 
 men, wounded and hale, cheered him wildly with 
 all their hearts. They covered his retreat with 
 their arquebuses, and, sorely spent, he reached the 
 great door, and they wedged it home behind him. 
 And upon the stairway Grana met him and caught 
 his wet hands in her own. 
 
 But they had little enough time for speech or 
 praise. The tower that they must hold was square 
 and of two stories, with huge walls slitted for
 
 A PROUDER ONE THAN GRANA 93 
 
 arrow fire. One straight, narrow stairway led from 
 the outer door to the level platform at the top. 
 
 There the wounded men crouched behind the 
 parapet and fired down upon the attacking force 
 who already were thundering at the door upon 
 the stairway Grana and Bryan Teige, with perhaps 
 fifteen uncrippled men, prepared to stem the rush 
 that would surely come. 
 
 It came when the stout outer door splintered 
 before the crashing axe blows. As it fell a reckless 
 wave of men plunged jostling in with whoops of 
 triumph. But only two might mount abreast, and 
 above them on the stairway men were lying above 
 each other with their fingers on the trigger. 
 
 As the attackers entered the arquebuses flamed 
 and bellowed, and at that range even those clumsy 
 weapons were effective. The head of the column 
 shredded clean away, and for a moment the sur- 
 vivors faltered. Then another volley thundered, 
 for loaded pieces had been handed down to the 
 defenders. The shades and qualities of courage 
 stand revealed at such a moment. 
 
 From the attacking force three nameless desper- 
 ates broke clear and reeled through the choking 
 smoke up the steep stair, to be flung back with 
 crashing blows ; the remainder turned pell-mell 
 for the blessed open air, swearing that it was death 
 to attempt to storm. And a short breathing space 
 was granted to the little force within. 
 
 They did not fail to use it. An idea had come 
 to Grana, and she set her men with axes and bars 
 to uproot the stone stairway beneath the first story 
 of the tower. Soon a chasm yawned below them,
 
 94 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 and then, leaving men upon guard, Grana and her 
 lieutenant climbed to the summit of the tower. 
 
 " Who have we against us, Bryan ? " she asked. 
 "If my eyes did not fail me, I noted a certain 
 standard through the smoke as the ships closed." 
 
 " Aye, lady," Bryan Teige answered gravely, 
 " it is Domhnall O'Flaherty who has set this trap 
 for us. Now it is in my mind that his terms will 
 not be light." 
 
 Grana nodded with tightened lips and a little 
 flush upon her cheek. 
 
 " You are right," she said ; " this will be a glad 
 day for Domhnall." 
 
 The man of whom they spoke was cousin to 
 Murrough of the Axes. Also, he was a noted rebel, 
 as the luckless lord-deputy could have told, and, 
 perhaps, the most powerful chieftain in all Con- 
 naught. He was one of the many who had aspired 
 to Grana's hand at news of her beauty and her 
 growing power. 
 
 But Grana, as has been noted, had been somewhat 
 uplifted by her recent triumphs. It will never be 
 pretended by this chronicler that she was free from 
 vanity. She had declined in her pride even to see 
 this suitor, who had wooed her in so confident a 
 fashion, and that blow to such a man as Domhnall 
 was not one lightly to be forgiven. 
 
 The pride of an Irish chieftain was a quality that 
 may be done justice to by no mere clumsy words. 
 Now it appeared that Domhnall was in a position 
 to repay his grudge in full. 
 
 " What may we do, Bryan ? " Grana asked after 
 a pause. " We have checked them for a while."
 
 A PROUDER ONE THAN GRANA 95 
 
 " Aye, lady," Bryan Teige answered. " It is in 
 my mind that we have sickened them of attack. 
 There remains for them another way." 
 
 Grana nodded. " They will seek to starve us 
 out," she said. " What food and water have we ? " 
 
 " Enough for a bare week, maybe," Bryan Teige 
 answered soberly. 
 
 " Much may chance in a week," Grana said 
 thoughtfully. " I would that Red Donell knew of 
 our plight." 
 
 " Aye, much may chance," Bryan Teige agreed, 
 and then he added slowly : " But if nought chances, 
 lady what then ? " 
 
 Grana looked him in the eyes. 
 
 " I will hold this place until I die," she said very 
 quietly. "Do you think that Grana of Achill will 
 surrender living to the man who has planned this 
 trap ? " 
 
 Bryan Teige's grim face brightened. 
 
 " Nay, I did not think it, lady," he answered 
 almost gently. " And there is one at least who will 
 stand beside you to the end drunkard and vain 
 babbler as he is. I ask no better ending. Indeed 
 and indeed, I have seldom found this cheerless 
 world so hugely to my taste." 
 
 Grana held out her hand with a little smile, and 
 the fool caught it clumsily to his lips. 
 
 " So you were but trying me, Bryan," she said. 
 " Well, it may be that you will find Grana as stub- 
 born as yourself. And now I would think a 
 while." 
 
 She left Bryan Teige on watch and passed to a 
 tiny cell-like chamber upon the first story of the
 
 96 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 tower. And there, with the door fast closed upon 
 her, she hid her face in her hands and cried as she 
 had seldom cried before. Because this was her first 
 taste of bitter failure ; because of the lives that had 
 been wasted to her blind vanity ; because of her 
 weariness and shame ; and, most of all, because 
 of the triumph that she had given to the man whom 
 she had scorned. 
 
 Then she dried her eyes and went forth among 
 her men with heartening words and brave laughter 
 on her lips. And not one of them might guess that 
 their lady had known a moment's weakness. 
 
 A priest with a flag of truce was seeking audience 
 with the leader of the little garrison. Eight days 
 had passed and every scrap of food and almost 
 every drop of water was exhausted. They had been 
 weary days. When they found that the stairway 
 was destroyed the attacking force had ceased their 
 attempts to storm the tower. 
 
 They had erected rude huts and tents of sail- 
 cloth and had prepared to starve Grana and her 
 men into surrender. And then for the besieged had 
 begun a time of waiting peculiarly hard for men of 
 the hot and sanguine Irish blood. 
 
 They must subsist on scanty food and anticipate 
 the day when the last crumb should be eaten. They 
 must abstain from the fighting that was almost the 
 one keen pleasure and excitement that their rude 
 lives held. They must brood in idleness upon what 
 their fate would be when hunger brought their proud 
 lady to her knees. It might be well enough for her 
 upon that day, but for them Little mercy or
 
 A PROUDER ONE THAN GRANA 97 
 
 quarter was dealt out to humble fighting men in 
 those harsh days. 
 
 And so, being Irishmen, they had grumbled 
 sorely as was not unnatural. They had whispered 
 angrily to each other of the blind folly that had led 
 them into such a trap. And then Grana of Achill 
 would come on her rounds ! Pale she might be 
 and thin with sore privation, but the light in her 
 dark eyes was yet undimmed, and her magic smile 
 was dauntless as in her days of brightest triumph. 
 
 And ever she had words of praise and comfort, 
 ever she would hold out the hope of some vaguest 
 chance that should bring rescue ; ever she had 
 some jest that turned their scowls perforce to grins. 
 They never guessed her own heart sickness they 
 never knew how dead was all real hope within 
 her. 
 
 But to the wounded she brought new life, and, 
 sick or well, they strove like dogs to touch the 
 skirts of her gown as she passed by, and felt them- 
 selves the stronger for the contact. Oh, Grana of 
 Achill was great in those dark days ! 
 
 And now Domhnall O'Flaherty had made his 
 first sign. It was as though he had calculated to 
 a nicety their stock of food. Grana consented to 
 see the priestly herald, and he was drawn up by 
 a rope to the first story of the tower. 
 
 He was a short, dark man of some corpulence. 
 He glanced without fear at the gaunt, fierce faces 
 around him, and then he bowed courteously enough 
 to Grana. 
 
 " Lady, my message is for your ears alone," he 
 said.
 
 98 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Bryan Teige muttered an angry warning. Bryan 
 had sadly little love for priests or trust in their good 
 faith. He hinted that this one might bear a hidden 
 dagger. 
 
 But Grana smiled disdainfully and the priest 
 spoke out clearly. 
 
 " My sacred office should allay your fears," he 
 said ; " but, in any case, I am in your power. 
 There would be no escape for me if I intended 
 treachery." 
 
 " That is so," Grana agreed smoothly, and she 
 motioned to her men to draw out of earshot. " I 
 am at your service, good father." 
 
 They must have made a curious contrast, those 
 two, the plump priest and the woman with her 
 dark, haggard beauty, alone upon the summit 
 of the grey tower beneath the grey Irish sky. They 
 say that Grana was like to Bryan Teige in her 
 regrettable want of love for priests. 
 
 " I fear that things are ill with you, my daughter," 
 the holy man began. " From your pale face and 
 the leanness of your men, I judge 
 
 Grana held up her slim, brown hand. 
 
 " Your pardon," she said with rather perilous 
 calm. " I had not guessed that your mission was 
 to spy upon our straits. If I had thought that 
 
 "It is not so," the priest assured her hurriedly. 
 
 "It is well," Grana answered civilly. " There 
 is a certain servant of mine, long-limbed and gaunt 
 you may well have marked him. I pray that your 
 reverence will not give him cause to suspect your 
 honesty. He has an evil prejudice against your 
 cloth. But I await your errand."
 
 A PROUDER ONE THAN GRANA 99 
 
 The priest was a brave man, or he had scarce 
 stood where he did, but it was a fact that he had 
 marked Bryan Teige and the unholy light in his 
 eyes. It may be that he paled a trifle. 
 
 " I come from Domhnall O' Flaherty, as you may 
 guess," he said sullenly. " He would have speech 
 with you, lady." 
 
 Grana laughed. 
 
 " Then let him come to me," she answered. " I 
 promise him safe passage." 
 
 " He would have you go to him," the priest said. 
 " Nay, lady, I pray you for your own sake and for 
 sake of your men, not to refuse with scorn. Domhnall 
 would speak with you, but he swears by his honour 
 and all the saints that you shall return as freely as 
 you came. Think, lady, I charge you, ere you re- 
 fuse." 
 
 And Grana thought with lowering brows. The 
 suggestion was hateful to her pride, but but 
 
 " How may I leave my men and go to him ? " 
 she asked curtly at last. 
 
 " He would have you come as secretly as may 
 seem good to you," the priest answered. " This very 
 night, if the moon is clouded, I will be beneath these 
 walls. At midnight you may be lowered down by 
 one you trust, and I will lead you to Domhnall. 
 Lady, I assure you solemnly that, whatever chances, 
 you may trust to my master's honour." 
 
 Again Grana reflected with hands strained to- 
 gether. There might be little to gain from this 
 interview, but there was naught to lose, save only 
 the hurt to her pride. And it might be that oh ! 
 who knew what might chance from this strange
 
 100 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 night errand ? Perhaps, even to herself, she scarcely 
 admitted how eagerly she clasped at one tiny gleam 
 of hope. But at least in a moment she looked 
 swiftly up. 
 
 " Tell your master that I will come to him, relying 
 upon his honour," she said sourly, and she motioned 
 to the watchful Bryan Teige that the audience was 
 at an end. 
 
 It was Bryan Teige alone whom she took into 
 her confidence that night. He was sorely against 
 the plan sorely distrustful of priests and Domhnall 
 and all the world, but Grana would not hearken to his 
 pleading. She had said that she would go, and there 
 the matter ended. 
 
 But she would hide her going from the rest of her 
 men, lest her absence should dispirit them or awake 
 their ready Irish suspicion of treachery. The night 
 was dark as it chanced, and she had arranged that 
 Bryan Teige should take the watch at midnight upon 
 the summit of the tower. And so there was none to 
 see when the fool fastened the rope beneath her 
 arms and lowered her noiselessly to the ground. 
 As she loosed it a hand touched her own and the 
 priest's voice spoke through the darkness. 
 
 " It is well, lady ; I pray you to follow me without 
 noise," he said. 
 
 None spoke with them upon their way, although 
 they met shadowy figures and passed tents and 
 huts from whose chinks came gleams of light. They 
 came at last to a larger pavilion of canvas, and here 
 the priest halted. 
 
 " My master awaits you within, lady," he said 
 quietly ; then drew aside the flap and turned and
 
 A PROUDER ONE THAN GRANA 101 
 
 slid away into the night. Grana, left alone, clenched 
 her hands and crossed the threshold of the lighted 
 tent. 
 
 It held only one occupant. He had been seated 
 at a little table of wood, but he rose courteously at 
 her entrance. Grana looked at him steadfastly and 
 recognised that here was no common man. He 
 might have been thirty years of age, and he was no 
 giant, although his spare, well-knit frame held 
 promise of activity and strength. 
 
 But it was his face that caught the eye. Its broad 
 forehead, high- jutting nose, and firm, square jaw 
 told surely of both pride and will. Also, it might 
 be, of a cool self-control rare among the men of 
 Grana's stormy race. For one little moment, for 
 the first time in her life, Grana wondered if at last 
 she had met her master. Then she hastened to 
 fling aside the thought with anger. 
 
 " Greeting, Domhnall," she said steadily. " As 
 you see, I have accepted your invitation." 
 
 Domhnall inclined his head. 
 
 " I thank you, lady," he said gravely. " Ere we 
 speak together, I pray that you will accept my poor 
 hospitality." 
 
 He motioned to a chair beside the table. Grana 
 saw food and wine and the gleam of silver, and was 
 conscious of wolfish pangs of hunger. For two days 
 she had scarcely eaten, and she was growing weak. 
 Then, with a great effort of her will, she turned 
 her eyes away. She would not eat while her men 
 were starving. 
 
 " I thank you, Domhnall," she said, " but I did 
 not come hither to eat I would hear what you
 
 102 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 would say to me. Nay, I will stand while we speak 
 together." 
 
 Domhnall bowed and made no effort to persuade 
 her. He had marked her hollow cheeks, her trem- 
 bling hands, and the strange brilliance of her eyes. 
 It may be that he respected the strong pride that 
 could scorn the bitter gripe of hunger. But his 
 voice was cold when he spoke. 
 
 " Why, think you, lady, that I have sent for 
 you ? " he asked. 
 
 " I cannot tell," Grana answered frigidly, hating 
 him for the form of his question. He stood for a 
 moment in silence before he spoke again. 
 
 "Six months agone it was my ill-fortune to anger 
 you," he said. " I sought your hand in marriage in 
 all courtesy. There lay my offence, for it seemed 
 that my wooing was an insult to your pride. Your 
 answer, as I recollect, was of the curtest. Now, 
 lady, do you understand why we are speaking in 
 this fashion ? " 
 
 Grana flushed royally. 
 
 " Aye, well I understand," she answered. " You 
 think that you have attained your end by force. 
 You think that I am beaten to my knees. You 
 think that I prize life so highly that it were easier 
 to become your wife than starve ! Oh, little you 
 know of Grana of Achill if you dream that you may 
 win her thus ! " 
 
 He waited with patience until she ended agasp 
 with passion. Then he spoke, and his quiet, even 
 voice was in curious contrast to her anger. 
 
 " You are wrong," he said. " I do not now seek 
 to win by force what was refused to my courtesy.
 
 A PROUDER ONE THAN GRANA 103 
 
 But they tell me that Grana of Achill is proud. 
 She should have remembered that I also possess 
 some little pride. It is to ease that pride that we are 
 meeting now." 
 
 He paused and looked at her steadily. The flush 
 had died from Grana's cheeks, leaving her strangely 
 pale. 
 
 " You dealt to me some little humiliation," he 
 said. " It is my unchristian habit to repay in kind. 
 Grana of Achill was proud of her skill in war, her 
 prudence, and her success. Now she has been 
 trapped and lies at the mercy of one she scorned." 
 
 And then Grana laughed. 
 
 " Nay, there you are wrong/' she cried. " You 
 forget that there is another path that Grana will 
 blithely tread ere she makes submission to you or 
 any man." 
 
 " I do not forget it," he said quietly. " That is 
 why we are speaking now. I will own that it was 
 in my mind to press home my vantage, to woo you 
 in another fashion than of courtesy when hunger 
 had brought you to your knees. But I have learned 
 that your pride may not be broken in a fashion so 
 simple. And I have thought of a better plan. There 
 is a shame that is more bitter than defeat. It is in 
 my mind to lay that shame upon you, lady." 
 
 Grana threw out her hands with a strange, help- 
 less gesture. 
 
 " What is it that you mean ? " she asked hoarsely. 
 " What is it that you will do to me ? " 
 
 " You will know to-morrow," Domhnall answered. 
 " And now the good father waits to lead you to 
 the tower."
 
 104 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 For one moment Grana looked at him with wild 
 eyes, almost as though she would plead his pity. 
 Then she turned and followed the priest into the 
 darkness. 
 
 And on the morrow she understood, for Domhnall 
 had raised the siege and had vanished with his ships. 
 She understood that the shame of which he had 
 spoken was the contemptuous mercy of a victorious 
 foe. He had put that shame upon her, and even her 
 strong pride was bruised and humbled. 
 
 But very often in the time that followed she caught 
 herself musing as to the full meaning of this man's 
 strange words. For somehow she knew of a surety 
 that he would cross her path again.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 GRANA SPEAKS WITH HER MASTER IN THE 
 DAWN 
 
 THE hand of the great English queen might 
 be slow, but it was heavy and sure. (Do 
 you fancy the stiff, brocaded, unlovely 
 figure of her, posing as a beauty in her palace, a 
 wanton at heart and avid for flattery as any wanton, 
 and yet the true mistress of a great kingdom and 
 the inspirer of men whose fame should live forever ?) 
 
 Grana was to learn that fact Grana, who had 
 defied and outwitted the Lord Deputy of Connaught 
 with an ease that had bred contempt. For years 
 she had been regarded as the nurse of all mischief 
 and rebellion in Mayo you may read Sir Richard 
 Bingham's frank opinion of her in his curiously 
 worded letters to Elizabeth. (But natural prejudice 
 made him do her less than justice.) 
 
 There was, in fact, but one other rebel in western 
 Ireland who gave sorer toil and anxiety to the 
 English. And that other was Domhnall O'Flaherty, 
 the single man who had humbled Grana and bruised 
 her darling pride. As has been told. 
 
 It was the violence of her servants, rather than 
 
 any act of her own, that brought matters to a head 
 
 at last between Grana and the lord deputy. Her 
 
 following had grown with her fame, and it is to be 
 
 105
 
 106 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 feared that it was notable for reckless courage, 
 rather than honesty and the domestic virtues. 
 
 Under her own eye, Grana's men were mild 
 enough, if she so willed it ; out of her sight well, it 
 does not appear that their manners were especially 
 lamblike. At the least, a dozen of them, out on 
 foray, met two luckless body-servants of Sir Richard 
 Bingham's, and, since they foolishly declined to 
 submit to be stripped, slew them out of hand for 
 sake of their clothes and weapons. 
 
 Upon news of which ungentle deed Sir Richard 
 sent a curt message to Grana, demanding that the 
 murderers should be delivered to himself for their 
 due hanging. 
 
 But that was the one point concerning which 
 Grana of Achill could never be brought to see 
 reason. Treaties of the most solemn order she might 
 make and break in bewildering fashion (it is un- 
 happily beyond dispute that Grana looked upon the 
 breaking of a treaty of alliance almost as a duty, 
 certainly as a jest !), but it was not in her to be 
 false to her own men. 
 
 She would treat them herself with harshness (as 
 a fact, she sought out these very offenders and 
 stood by while they were soundly flogged in the 
 courtyard of Kildownet Castle), but she would 
 allow none other to lay hand upon her property. 
 
 It did not accord with her vivid pride. And she 
 sent word to this effect to the lord deputy. Where- 
 upon Sir Richard Bingham, outworn in body and 
 temper by long, harassing dealings with the Irish, 
 swore solemnly that, since the men were to escape 
 their due, the mistress who shielded them should
 
 GRANA SPEAKS WITH HER MASTER 107 
 
 assuredly hang high. It should be added that 
 such an act of justice was not without precedent in 
 those rough days. 
 
 Grana laughed softly when she heard of that vow, 
 and went upon her ways without a qualm. 
 
 But it' was recalled to her mind upon a summer 
 afternoon as she rode from Kildownet to her Castle 
 of Ferrisowle, squired by Red Donell and a handful 
 of ragged men at arms. An old woman, toothless, 
 bearded, and quaintly hideous, rose up from beside 
 the miry track and barred the way. 
 
 Grana flung her a piece of gold in her own royally 
 careless fashion, and the old dame caught her hand 
 with a torrent of mumbled invocations. 
 
 "It is Mad Barb, the witch, lady," Red Donell 
 muttered, and whitened a little beneath the tan 
 Red Donell, who had scarcely turned aside from his 
 path for any four mortal men ! 
 
 It was Grana's way to pose as being above such 
 weaknesses. 
 
 " I have heard of her," she said coolly. " What 
 have you to tell me of my fortune, mother ? " 
 
 Mad Barb was staring at the slim, capable hand 
 with a strange look in her bleared, red eyes. 
 
 " Get you back to Kildownet, Grana of Achill 
 get you back ! " she mumbled. " Black danger 
 presses upon you ! " 
 
 "It is no new thing," Grana retorted cheerily. 
 " What is its nature, mother ? " 
 
 " Strong are you and daring," wheezed the old 
 woman ; " but that which threatens you is stronger 
 than your strength. Get you back, lest shame and 
 bonds become your portion."
 
 108 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 There was one at least of her hearers who was 
 impressed by her prophecies of gloom. Red Donell 
 had already wheeled his horse, and was calling to 
 the men in turn. He could not conceive that even 
 Grana of Achill would go forward in face of such a 
 warning from those inspired lips ! Grana turned 
 upon him, ruffled and moved against her will by the 
 witch's words, glad of an object for her anger. 
 
 " What are you doing, Donell ? " she asked, with 
 dangerous smoothness. "It is not in my memory 
 that I gave orders for retreat. And none other 
 shall give orders where I ride." 
 
 " I thought you would surely heed Mad Barb's 
 words, lady," Red Donell muttered. " She knows 
 strange things." 
 
 " I had not thought you were a coward, Donell ! " 
 Grana cried. " About your wits I have never 
 doubted ! To be turned back by an old, mumbling 
 dame ! But Grana goes forward even if she must 
 ride alone ! " 
 
 Red Donell bowed his head and turned his horse 
 for Ferrisowle. 
 
 Mad Barb retained her hold of Grana's hand. 
 Now a curious smile came to her unwashen, wrinkled 
 face. 
 
 " I knew that you would not heed, lady," she 
 said. " Oh, Mad Barb knew well ! Ah, she can 
 see she can see many things with her sore, red 
 eyes. Now I tell you that you shall be shamed and 
 helpless and none shall be able to aid you save 
 one whom you have cause to hate and fear. But 
 go forward, lady ; for it may be that happiness 
 lies beyond your shame."
 
 GRANA SPEAKS WITH HER MASTER 109 
 
 Grana stared at the witch for a moment, then 
 she wrenched her hand angrily away and touched 
 her horse sharply with her spur. Mad Barb's words 
 had recalled to her mind the one man or woman in 
 the world whom she deemed that she had cause to 
 hate or fear Domhnall O' Flaherty, the man who 
 had tricked and humbled her. 
 
 She did not love to think of him and yet he 
 was often in her mind. Only that morning a rumour 
 had reached her ears that he and his men had been 
 ambushed and broken by the English. She had not 
 been sure whether the tidings had pleased or hurt 
 her. Yet, why should she not be pleased ? She 
 recalled the lord deputy's vow and promptly 
 dismissed the trifle. 
 
 It was not in her mind as she rode on in silence 
 with bowed head and frowning eyes. She was 
 thinking once more of Domhnall. It was in a narrow 
 valley piercing the wild, dark hills that she was 
 roused harshly from her thoughts. 
 
 There was a sudden warning yell from her fore- 
 riders ; the stony ground appeared to vomit men 
 from every side, and Grana awoke to the fact that 
 she was trapped. 
 
 Followed a brief, wild whirl of steel, a hurly-burly 
 of shouts, and trampling hoofs. Red Donell might 
 have his childish superstitions, but they were not 
 apparent in face of human foes. He fought with 
 the strength and courage of a she bear at bay before 
 her cubs. 
 
 In obedience to his roar the men ringed round 
 their lady with a grim hedge of steel. I fancy Grana 
 sitting her horse in their midst, careless enough, I
 
 110 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 dare swear, of the peril, with cheery, cool words 
 upon her lips. But the fight was cruelly brief, for 
 no valour might stand against such crushing odds. 
 
 It was apparent that the assailants had their 
 orders. No quarter was to be wasted upon her men, 
 but Grana herself was to be taken alive. The ring 
 was broken by sheer weight of steel, and then men 
 fell swiftly. 
 
 For a little space Red Donell fought alone before 
 his lady one man, strong, fierce, and indomitable, 
 amid a jostle of hungry steel. Then he went reeling 
 down, and Grana fronted her foes with never a man 
 of her body-guard upon his feet. 
 
 An officer spurred toward her through the press, 
 superbly mounted, but with his once shining, 
 fashionable armour defaced and reddened by the 
 damps of the Irish bogs. A hard-faced man of 
 thirty, with something of the brute peering from 
 his mouth and eyes. He looked Grana grimly in 
 the face, and he did not bow. 
 
 " Who are you, sir ? " she cried fiercely enough. 
 " And by what right have you attacked me and 
 slain my men ? " 
 
 " I am Captain John Bingham, brother of the 
 lord deputy," the man answered harshly. "It is 
 by his orders that you have been captured for a 
 notorious rebel and traitor. I am compelled to 
 take certain precautions for your safe conduct." 
 
 He turned to a red-faced sergeant by his side. 
 
 " Bind this woman's arms behind her," he 
 ordered, " and set a leading rein upon her palfrey." 
 
 Grana' s face went dead white at the words, and 
 she flung out her hands in incredulous protest.
 
 GRANA SPEAKS WITH HER MASTER 111 
 
 " You dare not shame me in this fashion ! " 
 she cried, agasp with passion. " Oh, you shall 
 answer for this " 
 
 But the officer turned away without a word, and 
 Grana, choking with rage, had sense to see that 
 resistance would but be a further indignity. She 
 submitted to be bound, but there was something 
 in her blanched face that checked the rough jokes 
 and laughter of the English soldiers who thronged 
 with curious eyes about their famous prisoner. It 
 was as though they set ropes upon a lioness, superb 
 in her fierce rage, to be feared even in her impotence. 
 
 Ten minutes later the column was upon its way, 
 in its midst a white-faced woman who forgot the 
 gall and the shame of the rope about her wrists 
 as she looked back at the tangled, faithful bodies 
 that still lay in their broken ring. 
 
 Within the hour, it may be, a rider came jogging 
 into that fatal valley. It was Mad Barb, a weird 
 figure crouched upon the rump of a huge, raw- 
 boned ass. She drew rein at sight of the bodies upon 
 the trampled, bloody ground, and she gave a little 
 nod and a queer, half-triumphant cluck of the 
 breath. 
 
 For all her madness, her words were coming true. 
 She bundled down and began to examine the still 
 figures. 
 
 When she came to that of the big, red-haired man 
 who had pleased her by his faith in her power, she 
 gave a high chuckle that was almost a crow. Red 
 Donell was horribly mangled, but there was life 
 in his tough carcass yet. Mad Barb bound up his 
 wounds with rags from her own person, then forced
 
 112 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 the neck of a bottle between his lips. In a minute 
 Red Donell stirred, grinned feebly, and strove to 
 take the flagon into his own care. 
 
 " Good liquor, mother ! " he grunted, and then : 
 " The blessed saints protect me, it is Mad Barb ! " 
 
 " Yes, it is I," the old woman said. " And I was 
 right ! " 
 
 Red Donell's torn face contracted painfully. 
 
 " She is in their hands the Lady Grana, God rot 
 them ! " he groaned. " And I must lie here ! 
 Whither have they taken her ? " 
 
 Mad Barb pointed along the eastern track. 
 
 " It should be easy following," she said. 
 
 Red Donell sat up, and the agony of the move- 
 ment brought a groan rasping harshly from his 
 throat, despite his stubborn will. 
 
 " I must follow to see what is their will with 
 her," he muttered. " The horses are gone, of course. 
 Mother, lend me your donkey, and I will give you 
 a rosary of Spanish gold ! Nay, I am a fool what 
 should you do with rosaries ? " 
 
 The old woman chuckled impishly. 
 
 " All gold is good," she answered. 
 
 " But you would roll from the ass's back in the 
 first hundred yards. I myself will follow these 
 English dogs and bring back word to you of what 
 they do to Grana of Achill if you will pay me the 
 rosary for fee ! " 
 
 Red Donell swore with very vivid blasphemy 
 that he would surely do so. 
 
 " And I am thinking that you will keep your 
 word to Mad Barb ! " the witch muttered with 
 another chuckle. Then she laid the bottle of spirits
 
 GRANA SPEAKS WITH HER MASTER 113 
 
 and a wallet of food beside Red Donell, skipped 
 nimbly upon her skinny steed, and rode down the 
 valley along the broad English trail. 
 
 Seven or eight miles she covered at her uneasy 
 pace, and then she found herself amid a stream of 
 country-folk who seemed to be converging from all 
 quarters upon one point. Mad Barb was known 
 and feared by all, and her question, " Whither are 
 you journeying, children ? " was swiftly answered 
 amid a growl of rage. 
 
 " The accursed English have taken Grana of 
 Achill to their camp at Borydane, and she is to be 
 tried at sunset, good mother ! " 
 
 Mad Barb nodded and caught by the sleeve a tall, 
 ragged man well known to her. 
 
 " What will they be doing to Grana, Rory ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " They will be hanging her, like enough, mother, 
 the saints look down upon her," the man answered, 
 and then he lowered his voice. 
 
 " They have sought her long enough, but little 
 they know how near to them is one whom they 
 would be yet more blithe to take. Domhnall 
 O' Flaherty himself is lying with one follower in the 
 hut on Corryduin, three bare miles from the English 
 camp." 
 
 Mad Barb nodded once more, and jogged on deep 
 in thought among the muttering, wrathful peasants. 
 
 Six score of the English troops were camped at 
 Borydane under John Bingham. He had full 
 authority from the lord deputy for the stern act of 
 justice that he proposed to execute. 
 
 It was vital that the outnumbered English should 
 i
 
 114 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 awe the unruly Irish from time to time by a grim 
 sample of their power. Grana of Achill, whose 
 lawless fame was on every adoring peasant lip, was 
 to die as an example and warning to her brethren. 
 The lord deputy's solemn vow cried aloud for ful- 
 filment. 
 
 The glow of the sunset was red upon her proud, 
 white face as they led her from her prison to the 
 centre of the camp. The Irish, who loved her, to 
 whom she was a patriot queen, raised a despairing 
 wail of anger as she passed among the soldiers. 
 
 They say that she smiled a little, even at that 
 moment, as she heard them. It was ever pleasant 
 to her to know that she could hold men's hearts. 
 
 Mad Barb watched all that passed from her 
 place among the staring, murmuring peasant folk. 
 She looked with peevish hate upon the grim-faced 
 Englishmen before whom her country-woman was 
 arraigned. 
 
 She listened to the long recital of Grana's crimes, 
 and she heard Grana scornfully disavow any wish 
 to speak on her own behalf. Last of all she heard 
 the sentence at the close of the brief trial. Grana 
 of Achill, proved traitress, pirate, and rebel, was to 
 hang at sunrise on the morrow. 
 
 The prisoner, who had listened to her doom 
 without the quiver of a muscle of her haughty face, 
 had been led back to the tent that was her prison, 
 to sit motionless with her shattered dreams before 
 her eyes and with thoughts that none may guess in 
 her stormy heart. 
 
 The furious, raving peasants had been dispersed 
 by blows from heavy whips, and Mad Barb was
 
 GRANA SPEAKS WITH HER MASTER 115 
 
 perched again upon her sorry steed. But she was 
 not guiding him toward that valley where Red 
 Donell lay she was goading him along a hilly 
 track to where gaunt Corryduin shouldered toward 
 the sky. The path was steep and vile, and night 
 had fully fallen ere she reached the little lonely hut 
 that was her goal. 
 
 Within it sat the man who, two short days before, 
 had been the most potent rebel in all broad Con- 
 naught. He had been surprised by Sir Richard 
 Bingham in full force, and had escaped barely with 
 his life. 
 
 Now Domhnall 0' Flaherty was a hunted fugitive, 
 with but one faithful man beside him. But his 
 dark, strong face and brooding eyes were as un- 
 moved as upon that night when he had dealt with 
 Grana of Achill in her defeat and shame. 
 
 " What would you with me, mother ? " he asked 
 when the old woman had been admitted with due 
 caution. 
 
 " Greeting, Domhnall," Mad Barb answered. 
 " A while ago you laughed when I met you in all 
 your pride and told you that an evil day was 
 pressing close upon you. Also I told you of Grana 
 of Achill, how it had been whispered to me that her 
 path and yours must meet. It would seem that a 
 part at least of Mad Barb's words were true. Now 
 I am come to tell you that Grana lies in the English 
 camp at Borydane and will hang at to-morrow's 
 sunrise." 
 
 Domhnall sprang to his feet with an exclamation. 
 
 " Grana of Achill to hang ! " he cried. And then : 
 " Why do you tell me this ? "
 
 116 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 The old woman's eyes grew dull and stupid. 
 
 " How should Mad Barb know ? " she whined. 
 " She has come far to-day, old as she is, but she 
 must go farther yet. There is one lying wounded 
 in a valley far away for whom she has ill news. 
 That one, at least, would not bide quiet and safe 
 but for his wounds." 
 
 She hobbled from the little hut, climbed stiffly 
 upon her weary steed, and clattered down the steep 
 flank of Corryduin. 
 
 Domhnall O' Flaherty sat in thought with his 
 dark, grim head bent upon his hands. One fancies 
 that through the gloom he saw clearly, clearly the 
 pale royal face of the woman who had scorned his 
 wooing, whose scorn he had set himself to avenge 
 with bitter skill. 
 
 Since that night when she had come to him in his 
 tent, weak with hunger, but with high pride un- 
 daunted, she had been strangely of ten in his thoughts. 
 He had known curious contempt of himself for his 
 revenge, but he had rejoiced often enough that at 
 least he had not pressed his vantage home. 
 
 And now she was to die, to die shamefully before 
 grinning, jeering soldiery. And he, he who was now 
 himself a hunted fugitive, was powerless to avert 
 this thing. It had been his dream, from the day 
 when she had repulsed his wooing, that some 
 day in some fashion he would subdue her pride and 
 win her for his own. Oh, if he had but his men 
 behind him now that he might storm through the 
 English camp and snatch her in triumph from her 
 doom ! His defeat and helplessness were doubly 
 bitter now.
 
 GRANA SPEAKS WITH HER MASTER 117 
 
 But was there nothing he could do ? Suddenly, 
 swiftly, a thought came to him, a thought that 
 appealed to the chivalry and Irish romance that lay 
 beneath his grim, strong calm a thought that 
 brought him to his feet with shining eyes. For a 
 while he paced the muddy floor of the rude hut, 
 and ever the resolve grew and strengthened in his 
 heart. Then he called to him the servant who had 
 shared his flight. 
 
 " Michael, it is my will that you go forthwith to 
 the English camp at Borydane," he said. 
 
 Michael nodded. He would have set forth 
 without demur for Satan's court if that had been 
 DomhnaU's whim. 
 
 " They will not harm you or make you prisoner. 
 You will ask to speak with the English captain. 
 You will say to him that your master, Domhnall 
 O' Flaherty, has sent you to him, relying upon his 
 honour. Do you understand, Michael ? " 
 
 " Yes, lord. And what will I say, then ? " 
 
 " You will say that Domhnall will come to his 
 camp at sunrise, to die as he shall please, if he will 
 but pledge his honour that Grana of Achill shall 
 go free in DomhnaU's stead. That is my message, 
 Michael." 
 
 Michael looked at his master with sullenly 
 piteous, protesting eyes for one long minute. Then 
 he turned with a groan and went out into the 
 darkness. 
 
 The first red hint of dawn was staining the eastern 
 sky when they came to Grana. It is said that they 
 found her sleeping like any child. The priest with
 
 118 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 whom she had spoken for a while before she slept 
 laid his hand pitifully enough upon her shoulder, 
 and she awoke. 
 
 She stared about her in wonder for a moment, 
 and then she remembered and understood. She 
 rose to her feet fully dressed and confronted the 
 harsh English captain who had been her judge. 
 She knew that they had come to lead her forth to 
 die. 
 
 It was not in her nature to plead for clemency. 
 She knew nothing of the amazing offer that had 
 come to Captain Bingham in the night ; she did 
 not know that the Englishman still waited in- 
 credulously for the surrender of the man who had 
 sent the message. 
 
 She only knew that it ended here, once and for 
 all, the dazzling, fascinating path of ambition that 
 she had trodden since her father died. It ended in 
 sorry fashion enough, and the knowledge of her 
 failure was very bitter to her but it was not fitting 
 that these Englishmen should read her thoughts or 
 have cause for jibing. 
 
 And so she drew her mantle about her with 
 steady fingers and followed them into the grey 
 dawn. 
 
 The lofty gallows loomed black and cruel and 
 gaunt against that smear of crimson in the east. 
 She set her eyes upon them without flinching. The 
 misty air was damp and chilly, but she repressed a 
 shiver of cold lest these people should fancy that 
 she was afraid of death. 
 
 She was walking between a double line of soldiers, 
 and they were strangely still. She found herself
 
 GRANA SPEAKS WITH HER MASTER 119 
 
 marvelling at their silence, wondering that they 
 refrained from coarse jests and mockery. She did 
 not know that her woman's courage and the look 
 in her dark eyes gripped strangely at the throats of 
 the hard, common men who watched her pass. 
 
 She was beneath the gallows now, the long cord 
 was swaying mistily in the light breeze. The priest 
 was speaking to her very gently, and she thanked 
 him with a little absent smile. They did not seem 
 real at all at the moment, these dreamy things that 
 appeared to be happening to her. 
 
 Presently she would awake and laugh and then 
 and then she stiffened into sudden, vivid life, 
 for a man was walking toward her. 
 
 Surely she might not mistake that face with the 
 keen, hawk eyes and harsh, masterful nose and 
 chin. Surely this man was Domhnall O' Flaherty 
 and none other ! 
 
 Captain Bingham was speaking to her with a 
 curious smile. 
 
 " You are free to go whither you will, madam," he 
 said. 
 
 Grana stared at him foolishly. 
 
 " Free ? " she asked. " What is it that you 
 mean ? " 
 
 " My words should be plain," the Englishman 
 answered precisely. " This gentleman, unhappily 
 for himself, is a rebel of greater note even than you 
 are. For his own reasons he has offered to ransom 
 you with his person. My duty compelled me to 
 accept his offer, seeing that he is the greater 
 prize." 
 
 Slowly Grana took in the meaning of the words.
 
 120 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Domhnall was near her now ; they two, with John 
 Bingham, were the central figures amid a great, 
 silent, staring ring. Almost every man in the 
 English camp was gathered about the gallows, 
 marvelling at these strange doings. 
 
 But Grana did not heed them. For a space she 
 stood silently before this man ; they two alone in 
 an empty world, and that world was made all 
 golden and her heart was softened to its depths by 
 the triumph and wonder of his deed. Then suddenly 
 she moved a swift pace nearer to Domhnall with 
 outstretched hands that quivered now. 
 
 " Why are you doing this ? " she cried hoarsely. 
 " Oh, why should you give your life for me ? " 
 
 Domhnall smiled a little, and it was as though a 
 swift nicker of light relieved the gloom of his dark 
 face. 
 
 " It appeared, lady, that I owed you some small 
 amends for starvation and discourtesy," he answered 
 quietly. "It is my fashion, as you know, to pay 
 my debts." 
 
 Grana looked curiously at his face. 
 
 " Oh, I know, I know ! " she said softly, and then 
 she drew herself erect with her old pride. " But I 
 will not have it ! " she cried. " No man shall die 
 for me ! " 
 
 She turned scornfully upon Captain Bingham. 
 
 " You, sir, most courteous of jailers, understand 
 that I will not suffer this gentleman to ransom me." 
 
 Captain Bingham shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " I fear that the matter does not rest with you, 
 madam," he said dryly. " I have already ac- 
 cepted "
 
 GRANA SPEAKS WITH HER MASTER 121 
 
 And then the saints intervened ! That, at least, 
 is the Irish version. For myself I give some little 
 credit to more practical agencies. 
 
 From two sides of the camp there rang a yell 
 that shrill Irish, charging yell that has re-echoed on 
 a thousand bloody fields since Fontenoy was lost 
 and won. 
 
 Simultaneously there was the crack of arquebuses 
 as the careless sentries awoke to their peril, and 
 then down upon the startled ring of huddled 
 troops there surged two tossing waves of steel. 
 The English camp was stormed. 
 
 There are no such chargers in the world as the 
 Irish when their work is plain before them, and their 
 leaders know how to lead. Their swift-footed dash, 
 their gleeful hungry joy, their splendid carelessness 
 of odds and science are as resistless as Rupert's 
 hurtling rushes of horse. 
 
 Again it was to Grana as though she dreamed 
 most vividly and swiftly. She heard Bryan Teige's 
 voice high above the clamour. " Steel, rogues, 
 steel ! " and then she saw the loose ranks of the 
 English suck in and break. Axes were gleaming 
 among them. Captain Bingham had sprung forward 
 with drawn sword but the surprise was crushing 
 and complete. 
 
 Bryan had won to the centre of the English ring ; 
 he had set a guard of a dozen men about his mistress, 
 and then he abandoned himself to the one joy that 
 could move his sombre soul. 
 
 What need to dwell upon the rest ? Quarter was 
 seldom asked or given between the English and the 
 Irish. The former held down the unruly country
 
 122 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 folk by force of discipline and skill, and by dint of 
 red reprisals for rebellion. But once in a way, as 
 now, an English camp was surprised and the revenge 
 that followed is not pretty even in one's thoughts. 
 
 The English died grimly. All Europe knows that 
 that has ever been the English habit. But the 
 surprise of a camisado in the dawn, that ferocious 
 charge from front and rear, led up to the breaking- 
 point that every soldier knows. The red sun leaped 
 forth and gleamed upon the murderous rout that 
 went raving far away among the hills. 
 
 " What brought you so aptly, Bryan ? How was 
 it that you heard of my plight in time ? " Grana 
 asked as Bryan Teige stood panting before her, 
 leaning upon his long, stained sword, having torn 
 himself reluctantly from the pursuit. 
 
 " Red Donell sent Mad Barb to find us he 
 knew that I was out on foray with fifty men. Four 
 hours agone she met us returning to Kildownet. We 
 rode our weary horses to the death, and as we came 
 the country people flocked to us in scores, knowing 
 that you were to hang. I split the lads into two, 
 waited for dawn, and then we came upon the camp 
 from either side." 
 
 " You have saved me again, Bryan," Grana said 
 gently, and she stretched out her hand. 
 
 The fool raised it to his lips, but he looked askance 
 with jealous eyes at Domhnall O'Flaherty. 
 
 A while later Domhnall came up to Grana, who 
 had found no word for him since safety came. 
 
 " I will say farewell, lady," he said. " It may 
 be that we part as friends."
 
 GRANA SPEAKS WITH HER MASTER 123 
 
 " Aye, surely," Grana answered, and her words 
 were strangely halting. " But but whither do 
 you go that we must part ? " 
 
 Domhnall smiled. 
 
 " I go to find such of my lads as the English may 
 have spared," he answered. " Certain small mis- 
 fortunes have befallen me of late." 
 
 " Kildownet is at your service," Grana said very 
 low. 
 
 Domhnall's smile grew whimsical. 
 
 " I thank you, lady," he answered. " But the 
 pride of a foolish man is at its keenest when he 
 himself is broken." 
 
 Grana flushed a little. 
 
 " You are not generous," she said. " He who 
 gives greatly should take in a like measure, if he 
 be not churlish. You have offered your life for mine, 
 and you will take nothing at my hands. Oh ! but 
 I would that I knew why you dared this great thing 
 for me ! " 
 
 Domhnall looked at her, his own cheeks showing 
 a fleck of colour. 
 
 " Perchance, if five hundred men still called me 
 lord ; if my castle of Ballinahinch were still my 
 own, I might find words in which to tell you," he 
 said quietly. " But now it may be that I will 
 speak with you again, lady, when I have tried 
 another fall with fortune." 
 
 And then Grana laughed very softly, as she had 
 not laughed in all her life before. 
 
 " Oh, you are very proud ! " she said. " And 
 once ah ! once I also was proud and foolish. But 
 now it is different. I think the whole world is
 
 124 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 changed to my eyes by the great thing that you 
 have done. 
 
 " Hearken, Domhnall, and learn how Grana of 
 Achill's pride is humbled. She has learned that her 
 own wisdom and strength are not unfailing, as she 
 once thought them, and so she is seeking a a 
 master for her castles of Kildownet and Ferrisowle, 
 and for herself. But if she does not win the master 
 whom she has in mind, none other shall hold the 
 place ! " 
 
 And she looked away from him. 
 
 " Lady, I do not understand," Domhnall mut- 
 tered stupidly. " I am an outcast a fugitive " 
 
 Then Grana turned to him once more, and her 
 dark grey eyes were very bright, and her face was 
 most royally flushed. 
 
 " What do I care for these things ? " she cried 
 impatiently. " Oh, must I speak more plainly ? 
 Must I kneel before you ? " And she held out her 
 hands to him. 
 
 And that is how Grana of Achill won to happiness. 
 And for the rest how may one blame her if at that 
 moment she spared no thought for that other man 
 who watched her covertly with haggard eyes ere 
 he turned wearily away ? There was blood upon 
 Bryan Teige's sword arm, and a deep gash upon his 
 lean body, but one fancies that in that moment he 
 received a wound that bit more keenly.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 AFTER FOUR YEARS 
 
 THE sun sparkle was upon the sea. The 
 low, green, rolling hills were touched 
 with a golden wand. Dark Slievemore 
 brooded like a crouching giant beneath the soft, 
 changeful Irish sky, his base torn by the tigerish 
 tides that rip through Achill Sound. And Grana of 
 Achill walked upon the terrace of Kildownet Castle 
 with her husband and her little son. 
 
 Four years of happiness had done much for 
 Grana. They had taught her tenderness, they had 
 accustomed her to lean upon another's strength, she 
 who had ever revelled in her self-reliant, fearless 
 pride. They had changed her from a reckless girl 
 into a stately woman. As she paced the grey 
 flags beneath the grim grey menace of stones 
 that towered above her, in her trailing gown of 
 darkest purple, with the glint of jewels at her 
 neck and upon her long, slim, capable hands, it 
 had been hard to recognise the crimson-mantled 
 girl who had balanced upon the " Red Horse's " 
 spray-wet deck in many a pirate raid. 
 
 And yet Grana at heart was Grana still. Those 
 dark grey eyes beneath the blue-black splendour 
 of her hair were gentle in this hour, but still they 
 125
 
 126 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 hinted of their old fire. Often enough had they 
 heartened rough men to die blithely for the Dark 
 Lady's sake, and their old magic had not fled. 
 Love had come to her in the hand of one stronger 
 than herself, and it had been her pride to bend 
 beneath a yoke that had never galled, but still the 
 blood of sea-raiders tingled in her veins. He was 
 no weakling, the man who had humbled Grana of 
 Achill's stormy heart. 
 
 His light armour was of plain steel, as was his 
 sword-hilt. The vanities of fashion were little to 
 the taste of Domhnall O' Flaherty. His harshly cut 
 features and dark, sombre eyes were those of a 
 leader of men. Those eyes could vision high am- 
 bitions, and that mouth and chin hinted of a dogged 
 strength that might turn dreams to facts. The 
 man was that rare thing, a dreamer who could strike 
 shrewd blows. And once in a while those eyes 
 could be tender, as in this hour. 
 
 " Sweetheart, I am loath to leave you," he said 
 gently. 
 
 Grana forced herself to smile. 
 
 " So I would wish," she said. " Ah, but you 
 must go ! It is not for me to hold you back. I 
 would only that I might ride with you ! " 
 
 In his turn he smiled. 
 
 " It were a rough errand for a lady," he said. 
 " Even for Grana of Achill ! Oh, I do not forget 
 what Grana has done or what she might do again. 
 You would not fear to ride with me, I know it 
 well ! " 
 
 " No, indeed, I should not fear," Grana said with 
 soft pride, and now the old light was in her eyes.
 
 AFTER FOUR YEARS 127 
 
 He caught her hands and raised them to his lips. 
 
 " My wife is the bravest lady in the world, as she 
 is the fairest ! " he said proudly. " But since she 
 has deigned to take a husband 
 
 " A king ! " Grana corrected softly. 
 
 "It is for her to bear the heavier burden. My 
 part is light enough, God knows ! I do but ride 
 to war, while my queen stays to guard our prince ! " 
 
 He pointed with his hand towards the boy. Grana 
 laughed with wet eyes, and dropped upon her knees, 
 throwing her arms about the child. 
 
 " Oh, never in all the land was there such a 
 princeling ! " she cried softly. 
 
 He was in truth a splendid boy. His limbs were 
 straight and strong, and he looked older than his 
 three years. Grana's glorious grey eyes he had 
 beneath dark curling hair, and Grana's red wilful 
 mouth. Theobald he had been christened, but 
 " Tibot of the boats " the adoring country people 
 called him, because he had been born on shipboard, 
 and to his father and mother he was ever Tibot. 
 
 Grana raised him in her arms until he stood upon 
 the stone parapet of the terrace. 
 
 " Ah, he is strong ! " she cried. " And bold, too 
 bold ! Ever he struggles to be free. Aid me to 
 hold him, my lord, lest h^, fall ! " 
 
 And Domhnall put his arms about them both. 
 
 " So, it is fitting that we stand together, we 
 three ! " Grana said softly. " In a little space we 
 must watch you go, the Prince and I ! And who 
 may tell " 
 
 " In a little while I shall return with honour," 
 Domhnall said quickly. " But it is sweet that you
 
 128 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 should fear for me, my lady, who never feared for 
 yourself." 
 
 " My heart bodes ill to-day," Grana said with 
 a sigh. " Ah, but be careful, my lord ! It is your 
 sword he seeks ! " 
 
 Tibet's hands were plucking imperiously at the 
 sword hilt of plain steel. His father put him gently 
 upon the ground, and then unbelted his sword. 
 The boy received the new unwieldy toy with 
 triumphant shouts. 
 
 " It were early days for him to turn to steel," 
 Grana said half sadly and half gaily. 
 
 "It is in his blood," Domhnall answered. " It 
 were strange if he did not yearn for the touch of a 
 hilt. It will be a joy to teach him sword play when 
 his arms grow strong." 
 
 " For that if for nothing else, you must return, 
 my lord," Grana said. " I charge you, not to 
 fail ! " 
 
 " There are other things of price to which I 
 must return," he answered. " Think you that I 
 shall forget, my lady, when Grana of Achill has given 
 her heart to me ? Think you that any sword has 
 power to harm me now ? " 
 
 " God grant it ! " Grana said. " But there are 
 men calling themselves your friends whom I may 
 not trust." 
 
 " I will not believe it," Domhnall said firmly. 
 " Together we may make head against the English, 
 divided we must surely fall. There have been 
 quarrels and jealousies, but they are past. Now, 
 for a while at least, we are one people here in Con- 
 naught. And if the chiefs but hold to the pledges
 
 AFTER FOUR YEARS 129 
 
 they have given, we shall do that which will set all 
 Ireland in a flame ! " 
 
 " At the least, they could have no better leader ! " 
 Grana said proudly. 
 
 " It is my hope that I may uphold your faith in 
 me," Domhnall said soberly. " God knows I would 
 as blithely serve as I shall strive to lead. We need, 
 Ireland needs, a man beyond and above all jealousies. 
 I would gladly put my hands between the hands of 
 such a man and follow him to death." 
 
 " Connaught has found such a man in you," 
 Grana said. " But you have an unwieldy team to 
 drive, my lord. Such lordlings as Murrough of the 
 Axes and Ferrall O'Dowde have little heart for 
 obeying." 
 
 Domhnall's mouth tightened grimly. 
 
 " It may be that I shall find a way to school 
 them," he said. " At the least, they are clean- 
 handed gentlemen, and I hold their plighted 
 word." 
 
 " Words snap like thread when a man is vain and 
 jealous/' Grana answered. " I myself in my time 
 have had dealings both with Ferrall and with Mur- 
 rough. It is my fear that those dealings may have 
 left some trifling soreness ! " 
 
 As she spoke her red mouth curved with smiling 
 mischief. Scant cause had those two chieftains to 
 remember with pride their dealings with Grana, 
 the bright-eyed girl whom men had called the Fox 
 because of her ready unfailing cunning, because of 
 the courage with which she turned at bay when her 
 last twist and turn had proved in vain. It is re- 
 grettable perhaps, but Grana in her wild youth had
 
 130 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 ever loved a good lie for its own sake, had ever 
 revelled in pitting her keen brains against those of 
 blundering men. And never had she met her 
 match till Domhnall mastered her for good and 
 all. 
 
 " I have heard those old stories," said Domhnall, 
 and his grim lips smiled. "It is my hope that 
 Ferrall and Murrough have forgotten or forgiven 
 them. I say naught of women, but never a man in 
 the world could bear malice for long against you, 
 sweetheart ! " 
 
 Grana lifted her dark brows. 
 
 " If a man's vanity be wounded " she said 
 
 dryly. 
 
 " But we play for a stake that should lift a man 
 beyond vanity ! " Domhnall cried. "It is our 
 chance, the chance for which we have waited long ! 
 There wait for me now among the hills four thousand 
 men, stark fighters all. Five chieftains of the best 
 blood in Connaught have sworn upon locked hands 
 to follow my banner. It is long since such a force 
 were brought together. And the English, at the 
 most they can muster but a thousand men." 
 
 Grana nodded gravely. 
 
 " Aye, but a thousand men broken to discipline," 
 she said. " I know the English well, too well. 
 Often did I bruise myself against them in the old 
 days. For a wild charge I would sooner choose our 
 Irish, but these English hold to a fight like their 
 own mastiffs to a bone. They wear us down with 
 their patience and their discipline. Our men melt 
 to the hills to enjoy the plunder, when they have 
 won a fight. But these English, woe worth them,
 
 AFTER FOUR YEARS 181 
 
 are still to be beaten when it seems that they have 
 lost a fight. Moreover, they fight under one leader 
 without childish jealousies." 
 
 " I have yet to meet this Earl of Essex," Domh- 
 nall said. " Young and handsome as the Spring, 
 they say he is, and ever spoiling for a fight. It may 
 be that I can trap and trick his reckless courage." 
 
 " The great Queen Elizabeth loves him, so they 
 say," Grana said thoughtfully. " She has but 
 exiled him to our bogs in a fit of jealousy. He has 
 sped westward on fire to prove himself against us 
 rebels in Connaught ! " 
 
 " So I would have him come," Domhnall said 
 grimly. " If I can but hold my men, I ask no better 
 than a knight errant foe. A careless dashing boy 
 such as this Essex should be out-generalled with ease, 
 for all that he has proved himself against the 
 Spanish. But now I see Phelim yonder ready 
 with my charger for the road. At the least, sweet- 
 heart, I leave you in good hands ! " 
 
 He pointed with a smile to two grim figures 
 loitering at the far end of the terrace. 
 
 Bryan Teige and Red Donell were seldom far 
 from their lady. A raw jealousy of service 
 mouldered between them. Yet each had respect 
 for the other, as a fighter with all weapons tried 
 and proved a score of times. 
 
 " Aye, they will not fail me, those two ! " Grana 
 said. " I take shame to keep them with me, my 
 lord. Either is worth three other men when swords 
 are out. I pray that you will let me bid them ride 
 with you." 
 
 Domhnall shook his head.
 
 182 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " Nay, they bide with you," he said. " I shall 
 fear the less for you, while they bide here. Besides, 
 I know not that they would leave you, even to glut 
 their ever-hungry taste for fighting ! It is you 
 they love, my lady, not me. And I may not blame 
 them. Moreover, Phelim yonder would permit no 
 other squire to share his burdens ! " 
 
 " I would have a word with Phelim," Grana 
 said, and she called to DomhnaH's body squire. 
 
 It was an almost dwarf-like figure that came 
 towards her. Well below the average stature was 
 Phelim, but the sweep of his shoulders and of his 
 knotted arms hinted at an uncanny strength. There 
 was gross humour and a cheery content with life 
 about the broad mouth, flattened nose, and small 
 twinkling eyes of Domhnall's squire. 
 
 Grana drew him aside. 
 
 " It is to you that I trust my lord, Phelim," she 
 said. " For himself he has no care. Have a care 
 for him not alone in the press of fight. Guard well 
 against the knives and dark ways of treachery." 
 
 Phelim's eyes ceased for the moment to twinkle. 
 For once he was not voluble. 
 
 " My lady, I do not return without my lord," 
 he said briefly. 
 
 " I do not doubt you, Phelim," Grana said quietly, 
 and she held out her long hand for the squire to 
 touch with his lips. 
 
 Domhnall had recovered his sword from Tibot. 
 The boy had protested shrilly, but was appeased 
 when his father lifted him in his arms and carried 
 him towards his horse. 
 
 " Take Tibot for ride ! " he cried gleefully.
 
 AFTER FOUR YEARS 183 
 
 " Nay, you do not ride with me to-day, little 
 son," Domhnall said gravely. " I must ride 
 far." 
 
 He kissed the boy upon the brow, and put him 
 into the arms of Bryan Teige. 
 
 " I leave my lady and my son to you and to 
 Donell, Bryan," he said. " Well I know that you 
 will keep faith." 
 
 " We shall keep faith," the fool answered, speak- 
 ing as to an equal, as was his wont to all save Grana. 
 He had earned the name of the Death-seeker in a 
 land where all men are brave, and such men own 
 few lords. 
 
 Domhnall turned to his wife, and bent with 
 bared head and kissed her hands. He was one who 
 made no parade of affection before common folk. 
 Her lips trembled as she looked down upon his 
 bent head, but she also had her pride of race. 
 
 " Come back, my lord," was all she said. 
 
 " I will come back," he answered, and so turned 
 and vaulted to the saddle. He rode slowly forward 
 along the rutted track, still bareheaded and glancing 
 backward at his wife and son. His squire and a 
 small troop mounted and clattered in his wake. 
 
 Perhaps just for a moment some hint of approach- 
 ing sorrow mastered Grana's strength. At the 
 least it is told that suddenly she stretched out her 
 hands towards her husband and made as though 
 she would call him back to her. Then her firmness 
 returned, and she stood, tall and proud and silent, 
 and watched the cavalcade pass out of sight. 
 
 They say that afterwards she did not weep. 
 She walked for long alone upon the terrace, with
 
 134 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 her dark eyes upon the grey waves she loved. A 
 sudden sweep of clouds had dulled the radiance of 
 the sky and sea. Never for long may the sun shine 
 hi Ireland, the misty, tear-drenched land of broken 
 dreams. She walked alone until the red sun peered 
 forth once more before he sank beneath the blood- 
 red waves. And in her heart, one may believe, were 
 fear and hope and high ambitions for the man she 
 loved and for their wild green land. 
 
 So, in dreams at least, you may see her walking 
 to this day, a queenly tragic figure beneath the 
 grey ruin that was once her pride. Grana, Grana, 
 you are not forgotten. They speak of you yet 
 through the long evenings when the blue peat smoke 
 swirls about the low, crowded cabins of white 
 stone. They whisper that they have seen you, their 
 Dark Lady, once again upon your rounds, pacing 
 beneath crouching Slievemore with your eyes upon 
 the pirate bay you ruled and loved. You dwell and 
 will dwell for ever upon the lips of the soft-spoken 
 peasant dreamers who yet cling in careless poverty 
 to the land that holds their hearts. For the Irish 
 may be fickle to the living, but tender are they and 
 faithful to their dead.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE JEALOUSY OF FERRALL O'DOWDE 
 
 THE long English column laboured slowly 
 forward. The pikemen trudged wearily 
 with hanging heads over the peaty holding 
 turf. In their eyes was the sour ferocity of men 
 tried beyond their strength. These hills, these 
 endless grey-green hills they were like a maze in 
 which they felt themselves trapped and lost. And 
 they seemed to vomit men, wild, hairy, reckless 
 men, light-armed and light-footed, who appeared 
 from nowhere in savage headlong charges, and then 
 vanished as they had come. Since dawn those 
 attacks had persisted, swiftly flung and as swiftly 
 withdrawn. The column had lost heavily in mere 
 numbers, and yet more heavily in nerve and con- 
 fidence. The men were beginning to glance askance 
 at their officers. Had they no plan, no skill with 
 which to foil these Irish savages ? 
 
 From the rear there sounded a furious splutter 
 of arquebuses. The men growled sullenly. Another 
 rush had been launched upon the baggage train, 
 whose unwieldy length had been like a dragging 
 weight upon the column through the weary day. 
 Even the officers whispered their discontent. This 
 was no fashion in which to face a campaign among
 
 136 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 the Connaught hills ! That line of groaning wagons 
 and staggering pack-horses might be well enough 
 for English roads, but here where there were no 
 roads ! Yet what else might one expect when a 
 young spark, a Queen's favourite, an earl fresh 
 from court, was pitchforked into so rough a game as 
 one of these endless Irish wars ? How could he 
 move without his tents, his gay clothes, his per- 
 fumes and his cooks? Not but what this young 
 gallant, despite his white hands and his fopperies, 
 seemed eager enough to fight. Even while they 
 grumbled the officers admitted that. 
 
 A cheer rose grudgingly and then swelled in- 
 voluntarily. The rear - guard attack had been 
 repulsed ; the hoarse bark of the arquebuses was 
 hushed, and Essex himself came riding along the 
 line. He made a gallant figure, in his splendid 
 armour, upon a horse that was worthy of his rider's 
 seat. The sun gleamed for a moment from the 
 grey sky. It turned the young earl's mud-splashed 
 armour to bright gold, and glinted in his eyes. He 
 was smiling as he rode slowly along the weary 
 column, and as he passed he flung here and there a 
 gay word of praise. Fop, courtier and dissolute 
 spark as he might be, with it all he contrived to 
 look a man. 
 
 " Your lads are doing right well, Captain," he 
 called to an officer. " We have given them their 
 bellyful in the rear, and if we can but force them 
 
 to open fight By St. George ! here comes 
 
 what we have prayed for, this long day ! " 
 
 He pointed with his mailed hand, and his eyes 
 lit merrily. The pikemen flung off their weariness.
 
 THE JEALOUSY OF FERRALL O'DOWDE 137 
 
 A low growl of gladness ran along their ranks. They 
 too had prayed in their own fashion for what they 
 saw before them now. 
 
 The valley had broadened. Round its curve 
 there had swung the head of a yelling charge. 
 Straight for the throat of the English column it 
 sped in a wild wave. The Irish had changed their 
 tactics, at last, at last ! The English had their 
 chance upon the level ground. 
 
 Essex muttered a swift order to his trumpeter. 
 He had ever a keen eye for a fight. He had proved 
 that on more famous fields. The pikemen locked 
 into a hedge of steel. The arquebusiers blew upon 
 their matches. Upon the flank a bare handful of 
 mounted troopers were held in leash. 
 
 No doubt or faltering was there for that wild 
 Irish charge. Little did they reck, those bare- 
 legged fighters, of prudent tactics. They were led 
 by a tall mounted chieftain, his long bright hair 
 astream behind him. Two lengths ahead of his 
 mad followers he spurred, and almost they kept 
 pace with his white steed. Oh ! but they are 
 gay chargers, the Irish, when their hot blood is 
 dancing ! 
 
 But Domhnall O' Flaherty, watching from the 
 hill-top, muttered a curse and his dark face grew 
 grim with anger at sight of that wild charge. All 
 through the day he had fought this straggling fight 
 with a set purpose, and now he saw his orders set 
 at naught. 
 
 " It is Ferrall O'Dowde ! Curse him for a rash 
 fool ! " he muttered. " He shall answer for this if 
 he comes off alive 1 "
 
 138 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 He had set himself to wear down the English, 
 he had leashed his reckless following with an iron 
 hand, and now Ferrall, vain and jealous, was 
 spending men in open fight ! 
 
 The charge crashed home with a roar. The 
 arquebuses bellowed. The white smoke hung thick 
 in the damp air. From beneath that pall there 
 pealed the shrill Irish yells. The bravest of the 
 brave they were, those bare-legged swordsmen, but 
 to break that steady hedge of long bristling pikes 
 it was beyond even their powers. The best horse 
 soldiers in the world have failed at such a task. 
 They broke upon the pikes, they shattered them- 
 selves, they squandered blood. Snarling, and but 
 half convinced, a remnant reeled back at last. 
 Ferrall, his face a mask of sweat and blood, strove 
 madly to rally another hopeless charge, cursing 
 wildly, striking at his men with his naked sword. 
 And then at the right moment Essex loosed his 
 mounted handful, leading the charge in person like 
 any knight-errant boy. 
 
 It was Domhnall who saved what might be saved 
 of Ferrall's men. He flung yet another flank attack 
 upon the column. The diversion had the success 
 for which he played. At sound of the yelling 
 turmoil Essex drew off his troopers with reluctance 
 from the murderous hack and thrust of the pursuit. 
 But for that, few indeed of Ferrall's following would 
 have made good their flight. As it was he came 
 at nightfall, wounded, weary, and blustering with 
 the shame of failure, to his leader's camp among 
 the hills. 
 
 It was not in DomhnalTs mind to spare him.
 
 THE JEALOUSY OF FERRALL O'DOWDE 189 
 
 His eyes as they met Ferrall's held little indulgence, 
 and he did not rise at his entrance. He had spoken 
 plain words to Murrough of the Axes and his three 
 fellow chieftains whom he had summoned to this 
 council. 
 
 " The O'Dowde has ruined our day's work," he 
 said grimly. " All had gone well but for his costly 
 folly." 
 
 Murrough of the Axes stirred ominously. He was 
 Domhnall's cousin, and his senior by ten years, 
 and deep in his heart there smouldered resentment 
 of the other's leadership. 
 
 " We cannot afford to anger Ferrall," he said. 
 " He is over quick of temper " 
 
 " I do not doubt it," Domhnall answered curtly. 
 " But better far to lose him and the remnant which 
 he has not wasted than imperil all our plans." 
 
 " The O'Dowde is brave and a great fighter," 
 Murrough retorted sullenly. " If he has little heart 
 for taking orders there are others of like mind ! " 
 
 Domhnall forced himself to speak without heat, 
 but Murrough's eyes fell before his steady glance. 
 
 " I lead here, by the choice of you all, my good 
 friends," he said quietly. " And while I lead no 
 other shall give orders." 
 
 There was a murmur, not only from Murrough. 
 They were true Irishmen, these Connaught chief- 
 tains. Generous, courteous, and brave to a fault, 
 but vain and somewhat fickle. Each man loomed 
 to himself as the most splemiid figure in the world. 
 And it irked his ready vanity to take orders from 
 any living man. 
 
 Domhnall read their hearts but too clearly. And
 
 140 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 his own ached with the foretaste of failure. But he 
 forced himself to speak more lightly. 
 
 " All may yet go well. No man could have 
 fought more valiantly than you and your lads 
 to-day, my brothers. And the plan of fight to which 
 
 we agreed was wearing down the English But 
 
 here is Ferrall ! " 
 
 The O'Dowde entered, a splendid, striking figure 
 despite his weariness and stains of battle. Tall 
 and handsome, his long tangled hair astream upon 
 his shoulders, he looked what he was, a gallant 
 gentleman. But his eyes were heavy with baffled 
 rage. 
 
 He entered with a swagger and spoke swiftly. 
 
 " You saw my attack. My lads gave of their 
 best. With a little luck all had been well." 
 
 " Your lads were brave. None doubt it," Domh- 
 nall answered gravely. "But I am thinking that 
 few would have gone clear had we not come down 
 to save them. As it was " 
 
 Ferrall 's eyes lit angrily. 
 
 " Give you thanks for your aid, Domhnall ! 
 Though it is not to my liking to need aid of any man. 
 As it was, we lost sorely." 
 
 " Well I know it," Domhnall said. " And it was 
 a spendthrift waste of men. I have to say, Ferrall, 
 that you broke our plan of fight. And your own 
 word to boot." 
 
 Ferrall's hand clutched at his hilt. 
 
 " I broke my word ? Have a care, Domhnall ! " 
 
 " I do not speak with lightness. You pledged 
 yourself, with Murrough and these our friends, to 
 obey my orders. My command was clear that we
 
 THE JEALOUSY OF FERRALL O'DOWDE 141 
 
 should fight only from the hills, that we should 
 not meet the English upon open ground. If our 
 early successes have been squandered, if we end 
 this day weaker than we began, we have you and 
 your lack of faith to thank, Ferrall O'Dowde ! " 
 
 " You say that I broke faith ? " Ferrall blustered. 
 " You call me liar ? " 
 
 " You swore obedience and you have not obeyed," 
 Domhnall said coldly. 
 
 Ferrall O'Dowde attempted no argument. He 
 strode a pace forward and struck Domhnall lightly 
 across the face with his open hand. 
 
 " There is my answer to the man who calls me 
 liar ! " he said. " My sword is at your service ! " 
 
 Domhnall had self-mastery. Although by very 
 little, he kept his grip upon his rage. In that 
 moment, if by nothing else, he proved himself a man 
 of a greater stamp than those with whom he spoke. 
 In that tent, perhaps in all Ireland, there was no 
 other man who could have forced himself to answer 
 quietly in face of the deadly insult of a blow. 
 
 " And I claim your sword, Ferrall," he said 
 evenly, although his face had whitened. "It is 
 still pledged to our work. Nay, I will not fight you 
 now. After our campaign, maybe, if it is still your 
 wish. But now ' 
 
 " I will fight you now ! " Ferrall cried hoarsely, 
 his face aflame. " You have called me liar ! " 
 
 " And if I say again that I will not fight ? " 
 Domhnall said. " If I ask you to forget my words, as 
 I will forget your blow, if I ask you to put your 
 hate for the English above all lesser things what 
 then ? "
 
 142 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 But Ferrall's mad temper had him fairly in its 
 grip. His vanity was bruised. He conceived 
 himself shamed before his brother chiefs. In 
 that hour his natural courtesy and generosity were 
 swept away. 
 
 " I say that you shall fight ! " he snarled. " Can 
 it be that Domhnall O' Flaherty fears to meet me ? 
 Is it necessary for me to strike again ? " 
 
 And with the words he repeated the insulting 
 blow. 
 
 Domhnall rose slowly to his feet, his face white 
 and stern. 
 
 " You have the temper of a child," he said harshly. 
 " Again I decline to fight you yet. What example 
 would it be for our lads that two of their leaders 
 should come to blows ? " He turned to the other 
 chiefs. " You have heard and seen what passed. 
 Do you not bear me out in what I say ? " 
 
 There came a murmur of abrupt dissent. In 
 the simple code of these Irish noblemen there was 
 no choice left to a man when once a blow had 
 passed. Domhnall's courage had been proved 
 time and again, and yet they were filled with 
 amazement that was almost scorn by his attitude. 
 In truth they could not conceive that a gentleman 
 might put his cause before his private honour. 
 
 " I hold that you must fight," Murrough said 
 curtly. 
 
 And Terence Doherty went beyond his words. 
 
 "I for one can follow you no longer, Domhnall, 
 if you do not fight," he said almost with reluctance. 
 " Will you bear for men to whisper that you are 
 afraid ? "
 
 THE JEALOUSY OF FERRALL O'DOWDE 143 
 
 Domhnall did not answer. But the blood crept 
 to his cheek. He was no little man, but he was 
 human and Irish. 
 
 "Here is a coil about a small matter ! " Mur- 
 rough cried, and in his voice was an unpleasant 
 note. "The gentlemen whom I have known were 
 ever blithe for a little sword-play if the chance but 
 offered ! Afterwards one or both of you will fight 
 the cursed English with a better heart ! But for my 
 part, I will say, with Ferrall, that we have had too 
 much talk of orders." 
 
 " And I also ! " Terence Doherty said. " What 
 need should there be of orders between gentlemen ? 
 We are here to fight the English, each in his own 
 fashion and with his own lads ! " 
 
 And in that moment Domhnall O'Flaherty knew 
 that his plan and his dreams were broken. They 
 were brittle weapons that snapped in the hand 
 that held them, these childish, hot-headed gentle- 
 men with whom he had set out to play a game that 
 might have been so great ! He spoke in a slow 
 measured voice, with eyes that were chill and grim. 
 
 " And fighting in your own fashion the English will 
 ever beat you. I did not seek to be your leader, 
 but if you had been true to your faith I think that 
 we might together have gone far. As it is, we shall 
 spend our strength in little jealousies. It was in 
 my heart to play as a man should for a great stake, 
 but you are as children and you would have me 
 also a child. You leave me no choice." 
 
 For a while they glared at him in angry silence. 
 And then Ferrall growled 
 
 " What mean you ? That you will fight ? "
 
 144 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " Aye, since it is your pleasure to set vanity 
 before the cause," Domhnall said wearily. " There 
 is clear moonshine without. At the least, let us go 
 beyond sight of the sentries, that our folly may be 
 hidden." 
 
 For far around the single tent the ragged little 
 army lay sleeping about the dying fires. They 
 could live on little, they could move with amazing 
 speed, they could fight with a gleeful valour that 
 has never been excelled. At the will of a single 
 strong leader they might have been moulded into a 
 most potent weapon for hill fighting. But each 
 following was faithful to its own chief, and each 
 chief was ruled by vanity alone. 
 
 Domhnall O' Flaherty's heart was sick within 
 him, as he led the way in silence past the ring of 
 sentries and round a shoulder of the sleeping hills. 
 
 And there they stripped and drew and fought in 
 the white moonlight. Its radiance ran like liquid 
 silver along their gritting blades. 
 
 Twice after savage rallies they drew back and 
 rested, panting for breath like dogs. Twice they 
 fell to it once more, and fought in a fashion that 
 thrilled the pulses even of the hardened critics of 
 sword-play who watched. Ferrall fought with wild 
 fury, with brilliance, with tigerish dash. Domh- 
 nall fought like a man who, since he must fight, 
 goes to the work like a master, with a steely wrist 
 and keen, cool brain. And all the while he knew 
 that this thing was pitiful. And all the while the 
 white stars blinked down as though in scorn of the 
 littleness of men. 
 
 It ended with suddenness. Murrough gave a
 
 THE JEALOUSY OF FERRALL O'DOWDE 145 
 
 quick gasp. Ferrall's blade dropped ringing upon 
 the turf, and upon his sword-arm was a dark spread- 
 ing blur. Domhnall drew back with lowered point, 
 and Ferrall glared at his victor with the mad rage 
 of the man to whom defeat is hell. 
 
 " Make an end, curse you ! " he snarled. 
 
 " It is not my wish," Domhnall said calmly. " It 
 was not my will to fight you, Ferrall, but I doubt 
 not that the blame of this folly is upon us both. 
 Let us forget it. I ask you to clasp hands " 
 
 But Ferrall made a gesture with his left hand, 
 and turned and strode away. 
 
 Domhnall glanced at the others, and his voice 
 and his eyes were weary. 
 
 " I would have kept him with us if I might," 
 he said. " Now he will go, he and his men. And we 
 others I tell you that we shall be eaten up piece- 
 meal unless this be the end of selfish folly ! " 
 
 No man answered him, and no man met his eyes. 
 Murrough turned and followed the O'Dowde. The 
 other chieftains murmured low to each other, 
 walking aloof from their leader. 
 
 An hour later Domhnall sat alone in his tent, 
 brooding with his dark face supported upon his 
 clenched sinewy hands. He had failed, and he 
 knew it, in the task to which he had set himself. 
 He had failed to hold together these feather-brained 
 leaders, to bend them to his discipline. And that 
 failure meant ultimate defeat, he knew that as 
 surely as though already his men were scattered 
 in headlong rout. And defeat was very bitter to 
 his stubborn pride. Moreover there was Grana to 
 be remembered. She also had no liking for failure 
 L
 
 146 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 or defeat. Her love would be unchanged, he knew 
 that well, but she had sent him out to win, to 
 win, not to slink back disgraced ! His face flushed 
 and his sad eyes brightened at thought of her. Ah ! 
 indeed it was not fitting that the chosen knight 
 of his dark-eyed, queenly lady should fail ! Not 
 yet would he despair. Not till the last pawn was 
 played and lost. 
 
 And unconsciously he spoke aloud, rising to his 
 full height. 
 
 " While there is one man at back of me, I will 
 hold to the fight ! " said Domhnall O' Flaherty.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 HOW DOMHNALL WAS BROUGHT TO BAY 
 
 AT the dawn Ferrall O'Dowde was missing, 
 with the remnant of his men. 
 And a whisper crept through the little 
 army, a poisonous whisper that left chill doubt and 
 gloom behind. The campaign was doomed to 
 failure. Domhnall O' Flaherty was but a witless 
 general, after all. The English were too strong for 
 him. Better better to leave him to die, if he were 
 bent on dying. So the whisper ran. 
 
 And Murrough of the Axes was the next to go. 
 His treachery was no sudden blow to Domhnall. 
 He had read aright the sullen resentment in his 
 kinsman's eyes. 
 
 Murrough slunk away in the night, with all his 
 men. 
 
 And after that, the army melted, melted, melted. 
 
 Not all were faithless. DomhnaH's own men it 
 was in their hearts to stand by their lord till death. 
 They had proved him, many a time. Ever he had 
 set their lives before his own. His own he had ever 
 rated as thistledown in the wind when once swords 
 were gleaming. Now in this dark hour they proved 
 that Ireland can breed faithful men. They paid 
 back faith with faith.
 
 148 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 And there were others who did not fail. But to 
 each of the chieftains it seemed good to follow the 
 path that Ferrall had chosen. And most of their 
 men went with them. 
 
 And Domhnall, deserted and betrayed, fought 
 out to a finish a wellnigh hopeless fight. There are 
 many who have blamed him. With his handful of 
 men he might have scattered through the hills, 
 while yet there was time, ere yet the English ring 
 was drawn about him. So would lives have been 
 spared, and fewer women have wept. But it was 
 not in Domhnall O'Flaherty to admit defeat. 
 
 He had sworn an oath, and he would keep it. 
 He had played for a great prize, a glowing prize, a 
 splendid prize, and he had known and would pay 
 the cost of failure. And last of all and first of all, 
 he had read love of him and pride of him in the 
 eyes of Grana of Achill, and he might not shame- 
 those eyes. 
 
 He gave the English no light task, no bloodless 
 triumph. His few men he handled with a master's 
 skill, and under his eye and at his back they fought 
 like faithful fiends. By day and night they fought 
 among the hills. By now the English had their 
 guides, their Irish guides. Ferrall O'Dowde had 
 not been content with simple desertion. He had 
 desired the certain downfall of the man he hated. 
 And the ragged guides whom he sent into the 
 English camp laid bare the tortuous secrets of the 
 hills. 
 
 Domhnall played out the desperate game with 
 a certain fine gaiety, lacking from his sober manner 
 in peaceful hours. In the thick of the fight he
 
 DOMHNALL BROUGHT TO BAY 149 
 
 flung jests to his outnumbered, reeling men ; he 
 joked with them as they shared the same meagre 
 fare ; he had words of hope and praise and cheer 
 as together they threw themselves upon the peaty 
 ground for a few hours of sleep. Fighting, eating, 
 and sleeping in their very midst all barriers were 
 lowered. Great gentleman and ragged peasants 
 they were now but men whose hearts were high 
 enough to die with honour. 
 
 And Phelim was as ever a tower of strength. At 
 his master's shoulder in the thick of the yelling 
 press, tending his wounds, cooking the rough, 
 scanty food, the dwarfish squire proved himself 
 once more faithful as a dog, gentle as a clumsy 
 woman, brave as the bravest man. Through all he 
 never murmured, through all his small eyes never 
 lost their cheery twinkle, until that dark evening 
 when Domhnall spoke with him apart. 
 
 " Now it is finished, save for one last fight," 
 Domhnall said very quietly. " Their net is drawn 
 about us. He is no clumsy general, this lad Essex. 
 Well, we have made them sweat ! And to- 
 morrow ' ' 
 
 He broke off, hating what he had to say. Little 
 did he love to quench the twinkle in those ugly, 
 trusty eyes. 
 
 " It should be gay work, to-morrow, lord," 
 Phelim said happily. 
 
 " You will not share it," DomhnaH said curtly, 
 unwillingly. " I give you a harder task. I send 
 you with a letter to my lady." 
 
 The twinkle died. 
 
 " My lord ah ! my lord, I pray you "
 
 150 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " I know, I know ! " Domhnall said with a rare 
 gentleness. " You would die, guarding my back. 
 And blithe would I be to have you there. I 
 shall be lonely wanting you, good friend, tried 
 friend " 
 
 " Only your servant, lord, and failing often. 
 Yet of your indulgence I pray you " 
 
 " It may not be," Domhnall said. " You are the 
 best I have. None other of my lads but you has 
 head and heart enough to win through the English 
 ring. Like enough I do but squander you. Well, 
 I do believe that your life is freely mine to squander 
 in my need." 
 
 He held out his hand, and Phelim touched it 
 humbly with his lips. The dwarf's eyes were blurred 
 with tears. 
 
 " Two lives, if they were mine to give, lord. But 
 I had hoped at the last to die beside you. So did I 
 pledge my word to the Lady Grana." 
 
 " In my letter I will give you full quittance," 
 Domhnall said. " The Lady Grana will understand. 
 She knows you, Phelim, as I know you. There is 
 perhaps one chance in ten that you will live to bear 
 my letter to her, but I must take that chance. 
 Within the hour, when the moon has dipped, the 
 letter shall be ready." 
 
 In your fancy do you see him w r riting that last 
 letter, tracing the large shaky letters with slow 
 laborious hand ? No skilled penman was Domhnall 
 O' Flaherty ; to write at all was something of a 
 feat in the unlettered Ireland of those days. If his 
 delicate hands hinted of ancient and gentle blood, 
 his hilt-hardened right palm was worthy of a
 
 DOMHNALL BROUGHT TO BAY 151 
 
 humble woodman. Do you see him a man of 
 middle height, unshaven, heavy-eyed with lack of 
 sleep, his armour rusty and dented, a red-flecked 
 bandage upon his left forearm ? About him 
 sprawled his outworn men, where they had flung 
 themselves, foodless, upon the ground, to hearten 
 themselves with sleep for their last fight. All around 
 the valley in which they had turned at bay rose 
 up the brooding hills. Upon their flanks and sum- 
 mits twinkled an ominous ring of light. It was 
 the camp fires of the English, who waited only for 
 the morrow. Then at last it would be ended, this 
 fight against long odds, this fight of the few who had 
 not failed. Soon they would sleep well, these few. 
 The stars knew it, and the moon, and the huddling 
 hills. 
 
 He knew it also, the man who slowly traced 
 those ill- written, ill-spelt words. But his haggard 
 face revealed no shrinking, and no littleness. It 
 never lost its steadfast calm as he spelt out his last 
 message to the wife and son whom he could not 
 hope to see again. For himself clean death had no 
 terrors, and Grana would understand. Only 
 only as he raised his head and glanced at the 
 weary, faithful sleepers around him his haggard 
 eyes did soften. They had done well, those tired 
 sleepers, and they deserved a better guerdon than 
 he could give. 
 
 That ring of light flamed out more sharply. The 
 moon had dropped below the"\ills. The letter was 
 signed and folded. It was time for Phelim to take 
 his one chance in ten. 
 
 Domhnall beckoned to his squire.
 
 152 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " Win through, Phelim, if you may. I would 
 have my lady receive this word. But if success be 
 possible you will not fail, I know. Between you 
 and me there is, I think, no need of praise or thanks. 
 And yet I do thank you. Nay, do not kiss my 
 hand. You are my friend, and I would have you 
 clasp it." 
 
 The darkness wrapped the dwarfish figure, and 
 Domhnall stood for long, straining his ears to hear 
 yells or a sudden splutter of shots. But no sound 
 broke the peace of the night, and Domhnall lay 
 down at last among his sleeping men. 
 
 In his richly appointed tent Essex spoke with his 
 captains. About him were costly embroidered 
 hangings and the gleam of silver. His cloak and 
 doublet were of purple silk. Upon his long fingers 
 twinkled jewels of price. His bright hair was 
 perfumed. With his finery, amid his luxury, he 
 made a sharp contrast to that haggard, ill-kempt 
 man who had written his last letter to his wife. 
 
 " We finish it to-morrow," he said gaily. " He 
 has fought well, this barbarian. What is it that he 
 is called ah, Domhnall O' Flaherty. It is a name 
 worthy of these bogs. But if the others had not 
 failed him, our task had been heavier." 
 
 " Connaught will be the quieter for his death," 
 a grizzled captain said. 
 
 " Connaught needs an example," Essex answered. 
 " And it shall have one. This Domhnall, mark me 
 well, gentlemen, is to be taken alive. He shall die 
 by the axe as a warning to his friends. It should 
 have been a halter had he not fought so well."
 
 DOMHNALL BROUGHT TO BAY 153 
 
 There was a murmur of approval from the cap- 
 tains. There were men among them who had 
 grown grey before their time amid these bogs, at 
 grips with Domhnall and his unruly fellows. 
 
 " Afterwards we may snatch a little rest," 
 Essex went on. " This rude campaigning is well 
 enough for a while, but soon it irks. These dreary 
 bogs and these wild savages after London Lon- 
 don 
 
 He broke off sharply, and in his eyes were hungry 
 ambition and restless longing and bitter disappoint- 
 ment. His captains watched him curiously in the 
 silence. Elizabeth Gloriana herself, had loved 
 this brilliant boy, and yet she had exiled him to 
 these aching wastes. 
 
 " Ah, well ! " Essex said abruptly, " when this 
 Domhnall is finished with, our task is ended here, 
 I take it, for a while. Unless I err, he is by far 
 the strongest of these barbarians. When he is 
 dead " 
 
 " There will still be his wife," a captain said 
 dryly. 
 
 " His wife ? " 
 
 " Aye, Grana O'Malley, as she was. Have you 
 not heard of her, my lord ? She gave some trouble, 
 ere her marriage. A rare handful, by God, a scourge 
 to all honest men, was Grana ! " 
 
 " A daring pirate, though but a slip of a girl ! " 
 
 " The head and nurse of all rebellion ! " 
 
 " She broke Sir John Bingham's strength and 
 patience, the wild cat wench ! " 
 
 Essex smiled, 
 
 " Aye, something I remember now. Her fame
 
 154 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 reached even to the court in London. Sir John's 
 letters to the queen were most plaintive. What 
 fashion of woman is she, this Grana ? " 
 
 " There is no fairer in all Ireland, my lord. Every 
 rebel chief in Connaught was at her feet. But only 
 Domhnall " 
 
 " Have any of you had actual sight of her ? " 
 Essex asked with ready interest. His eyes ached 
 for a woman's beauty. Even to speak of such were 
 something, in these wilds ! 
 
 " I have seen her, the hussy ! " an old captain 
 growled. " Captain Bingham would have hanged 
 her once, but her Irish stormed his camp. I was 
 there, for my sins, and got clear with my life barely 
 enough. She has beauty, my lord, and breed, 
 though you would not guess it. Like a queen she 
 bore herself, although a prisoner and condemned. 
 I can see yet her great dark eyes and proud pale face 
 in the grey of the dawn beneath the gallows." 
 
 " I would I would that she were my prisoner ! " 
 Essex said cynically. " She interests me, this 
 Grana. Maybe I shall have speech with her ere 
 long. But now, we need sleep. Good night, gentle- 
 men, and remember Domhnall is to be taken 
 living ! "
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 HOW GRANA TOOK SWORD ONCE MORE 
 
 THE days had passed but slowly for Grana 
 at Kildownet. Hour after hour she would 
 pace the terrace, with Bryan Teige and 
 Red Donell, like grim watch-dogs, at her heels, 
 watching and waiting for news that rarely came. 
 She would not hawk, she did not care to ride. A 
 fever of foreboding burnt in her heart. Grana was 
 paying the price of a great love. 
 
 Time and again vague rumours reached her. 
 They told of triumph at first. And then youth 
 came back to Grana, and her splendid eyes shone 
 royally, and she had gay words and laughter for 
 her watchdogs. They loved her alone in all the 
 world, and she knew it. She knew also that it was 
 sharp torment for these two to abide here in peace 
 while others fought. 
 
 And then the rumours changed. They told now 
 of treachery and desertion and defeat. They did 
 not vary. They brought no gleam of hope. 
 
 Grana's face grew worn through those black 
 days. Her dark eyes lost their brilliance. Her thin 
 red lips never smiled. And her temper waxed 
 tigrish under the strain. That was ever Grana's 
 way. Her servants suffered. For Bryan Teige and
 
 156 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Red Donell, even for them, she had only brief, 
 impatient snarls. She was eating out her heart 
 with fear. And Bryan Teige and Red Donell 
 endured her gusts of rage with the dumb patience 
 of faithful dogs. Because they loved her, they 
 understood their lady. 
 
 Yet did it fare ill with any foolish man within 
 the castle who addressed these two through these 
 days of waiting ! From their lady they suffered all 
 injustice blithely, but they had scanty tolerance for 
 lesser folk. 
 
 And then at last came Phelim. 
 
 It was evening. For once Grana had ceased from 
 vain watching. She had turned her eyes upon the 
 red-stained sea. Bryan Teige spoke suddenly with 
 a timidity that sat oddly upon his gaunt, fearless 
 face. The scarred Death-seeker feared only what 
 he loved. 
 
 " Someone comes, my lady. I think aye, it is 
 Phelim ! " 
 
 Grana turned with a quick sharp cry, and then 
 hastened to the gate. 
 
 Phelim came slowly, reeling with utter weariness. 
 His face was white with hunger and exhaustion, his 
 eyes were deep set and strained, there was mud 
 and blood upon his tattered rags. He staggered on 
 indomitably, his bare stained sword clutched in his 
 hand, like a man who yet journeys amid foes. 
 
 " What news, Phelim, what news ? " Grana cried, 
 while he was yet far away. 
 
 And Phelim saw her, and broke into a tottering 
 run, and would have fallen at her feet had not 
 Bryan Teige caught him in his long arms. He had
 
 HOW GRANA TOOK SWORD ONCE MORE 157 
 
 done what he had set himself to do, and in doing 
 it he had reached the very limits of his strength. 
 
 But with a mouthful of spirit colour crept back 
 to his face. 
 
 " What of my lord, Phelim ? " Grana asked fear- 
 fully. 
 
 And Phelim drew from his breast a crumpled 
 letter, and put it into her hands, and then crept 
 away and stared with dull eyes at the sea. 
 
 And Grana read the letter. Bryan Teige and Red 
 Donell watched her face while she read, and for 
 all its quietness it told them what they feared. 
 
 This is what Domhnall had written. The words are 
 as he wrote them, save that his quaint spelling has 
 been amended. 
 
 MY DEAR AND FAIR LADYE, 
 
 It is a sore grief and shame to me to tell you 
 that matters have gone ill. It is not my way to 
 blame other men, but if all had been faithful we 
 had not failed. There have been cowardice, 
 treachery, and desertions. I am cut oft among 
 the hills with a bare handful. The English are 
 all about us, and to-morrow they must make an 
 end. 
 
 I would have you to know, sweetheart, that 
 though I have failed yet I have striven to bear 
 myself not unworthily. I would have brought 
 you triumph, but since that may not be it is for 
 me to die with those who have been faithful. 
 
 For not all have failed. It warms my heart to 
 remember how our own lads have cloven to me 
 in straits most sore. And Phelim, his faith and
 
 158 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 courage have been beyond price and praise. It 
 irks him ill to leave me now with this, my 
 letter. 
 
 My dear ladye, there is much that I would say, 
 but this sheet is near ended and the moon dips. 
 For you alone in this hour my heart is troubled. 
 Our son must be your comfort. You will train 
 him in all knightly ways. Right glad am I to 
 remember that you have Bryan Teige and Red 
 Donell. Your lover and your servant, 
 
 DOMHNALL O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Twice Grana read the letter, and then she touched 
 it with her lips and hid it in her breast. And she 
 spoke quietly, though her very lips were white. 
 
 " How far, Phelim, to where you left my lord ? " 
 
 Phelim's voice shook brokenly as he answered. 
 
 " Ten leagues or more, lady. Indeed I would 
 not have left my lord " 
 
 " I know, Phelim, I know ! My lord speaks of 
 you in his letter. He says that you have served 
 him well. Now it is for us to serve my lord. What 
 men have we, Bryan ? " 
 
 Bryan Teige considered briefly. 
 
 " A score at most, lady. But we have weapons 
 in plenty, and there are men upon the islands 
 
 " I give you two hours," Grana said. " Gather 
 what men ye may, arm them and horse them. At 
 the least we do not lack horses. Two hours, no 
 more ! Haste, haste, and do not fail ! Ten men 
 we leave here to hold Kildownet and my son. With 
 the others, though you find me but a score, I ride 
 in two hours against these English ! "
 
 HOW GRANA TOOK SWORD ONCE MORE 159 
 
 Phelim's dull eyes brightened. Bryan Teige 
 turned to him. 
 
 " How many be the English ? " 
 
 " They are in great strength, eight hundred at 
 the least, I judge." 
 
 Bryan Teige turned to Grana, a question in his eyes. 
 
 " What care I ? " she flamed royally. " Do you 
 think that I will bide here while my lord my 
 
 lord ? Do my bidding, dogs and cowardly 
 
 knaves ! Though we start with but twenty I shall 
 gather others. There will be many who will flock to 
 Grana as we go, at news of the errand on which 
 we ride. Away with you, away ! " 
 
 And they obeyed her. Men did not lag, when 
 Grana of Achill's fighting blood flamed warm. And 
 well she knew, even in that hour, despite her im- 
 patient words, that the fears of Bryan Teige had 
 been for her alone. For himself, the fool, whose 
 tragic eyes contrasted so oddly with his tattered 
 motley, asked nothing better of life than a fight 
 against hopeless odds. So might the Death-seeker 
 at last make good his life-long quest. 
 
 Within two hours the start was made. Grana 
 had kissed her son, had strained him to her, a score 
 of times. Her eyes were dry, but they held fierce 
 yearning, and her slim brown hands shook strangely. 
 She set him down at last, though the boy cried to go 
 with her, though her heart was torn as with physical 
 anguish. 
 
 The boy asked for his father. 
 
 "I go to him, Tibot," she said, speaking very 
 calmly lest the child be frightened. " I will try to 
 bring him back to us."
 
 160 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " Not be long," Tibot said. 
 
 " No, mother will not be long," she told him, 
 and then she must kiss him once more. 
 
 It was ended, and she clenched her hands and 
 set her lips for the work before her. Grana of Achill 
 might not weep, not yet, not yet. . . . 
 
 Down below the courtyard was aflame with torches. 
 Some thirty mounted men awaited their lady. By 
 Grana's own bright chestnut palfrey stood Bryan 
 Teige and Red Donell, fully armed. The half-score 
 men who must bide chafing to garrison the castle 
 loitered disconsolate upon the flags. But every man 
 lifted his voice in a great shout as Grana of Achill 
 walked swiftly into the flickering light. 
 
 She was clad for war and travel in a simple riding 
 gown of darkest green. But a great torque of 
 ruddy gold was about her neck. And the torch- 
 light shimmered upon the jewels that made rich 
 the hilt of her light sword. Since her marriage 
 Grana had not borne weapons. Now now the 
 old days were come once more, in a sad fashion, 
 and Grana of Achill must hearten men to fight. 
 And none in all the world was fitter for the task. 
 Her dark eyes gleamed, her red mouth was set 
 superbly, her hair had the blue-black violet glimmer 
 that only Ireland knows. Aye, Grana of Achill, in 
 her sore straits, looked a lady for whom men might 
 blithely die ! 
 
 She held up her long hand to stay the welcoming 
 shouts. 
 
 " One moment, lads ! " she said. " Where is 
 Murtagh ? I have a word for him." 
 
 Murtagh came forward, a lean stripling, his
 
 HOW GRANA TOOK SWORD ONCE MORE 161 
 
 honest ugly face grim with self-pity because he 
 must bide in safety at Kildownet. But Tibot had 
 loved him, with a swift childish fancy, from the 
 first moment when he had learned to crawl. Since 
 then Murtagh had been as an elder foster brother 
 to the boy. 
 
 " I trust the little lord to you, Murtagh," Grana 
 said. " Well I know that you would ride with me, 
 but I can give you no more precious charge. See 
 that you fail not. Though his nurses be faithful 
 and loving, it is in your hands that I leave him." 
 
 She held out her hand, and Murtagh kissed it 
 with a shy murmur. 
 
 Bryan Teige swung Grana upon her horse, and 
 she spoke from the saddle. 
 
 " Few words, lads, few words ! " she cried with 
 flashing eyes. " We ride to save my lord ! If he 
 be yet fighting we shall aid him, if he be a prisoner 
 we shall cut him clear ! It is a right worthy venture ! 
 In all the wide land there is none like my lord, our 
 lord ! Have ye the heart to ride with Grana against 
 long odds ? " 
 
 Oh, she could play upon men's hearts, with her 
 beauty and her courage ! A wild fierce yell pealed 
 up to the stars. They were Irish, they were Irish, 
 these ragged fighters, and here was the certainty of 
 a red fight ! 
 
 Grana nodded. 
 
 " Good lads ! " she cried. " And now, forward, 
 at speed ! " 
 
 And she clattered out into the darkness. 
 
 At speed they travelled, at wild speed, along the 
 infamous rutted tracks or over peaty mountain turf. 
 M
 
 162 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 The hardy ponies held to their work without 
 fatigue, and Grana, for all her slender beauty, was 
 ever enduring as any man. She set the pace, and 
 held to it, riding with tightened mouth and burning 
 eyes, with a grim watch dog half a length behind on 
 either side. And as they went, from straggling 
 villages and lonely huts, they drew recruits. 
 
 Grana of Achill was out against the English ! 
 Her name yet held its old wild magic. Tousled 
 men caught up rude weapons, mounted shaggy 
 steeds, and spurred behind her into the vague 
 night. The Dark Lady was out, the Dark Lady, 
 once so famous for her luck and cunning and skill 
 in shifts of war, and few were laggards in her hour 
 of need. 
 
 In that valley where Domhnall had turned at bay 
 for his last stand the swirl of fight had ended. At 
 the dawn with blare of trumpets and gay flaunt of 
 banners the English had closed. From the hill- 
 side Essex had watched the brief struggle. No 
 man loved battle more than he, but he knew that 
 this fight could have but one end, and he judged 
 it beneath his pride to lead the charge. 
 
 And yet as he watched his colour had heightened 
 and his hand had fidgeted about his hilt. This 
 Irish barbarian, hemmed in, deserted and be- 
 trayed, could fight a hopeless battle like a hero, 
 could hearten weary, starving men to die without 
 dismay. Essex admitted that. He was ever 
 generous. 
 
 " God, but this is a man ! " he cried involuntarily. 
 " Almost I wish I had not bade them take him
 
 HOW GRANA TOOK SWORD ONCE MORE 163 
 
 living ! So gay a fighter has earned death, sword in 
 hand, with his blood yet warm ! " 
 
 " Aye, he holds to it bravely ! " an officer agreed. 
 
 " Would your excellency wish Ah ! it is ended 
 
 now ! " 
 
 And it was ended. The young earl's orders had 
 been obeyed. No quarter save for one ! No quarter 
 for the gallant handful who had stood grimly by 
 their leader through hunger and defeat. They were 
 of no value. Irish lives have ever been cheap. 
 Cut them down to a man, the ragged, ill-favoured, 
 rebellious cattle ! And they were cut down. But 
 save their leader, that he may live for a little while, 
 to die as a warning for his fellow rascals ! 
 
 To the last gasp Domhnall fought his faithful 
 handful. While yet he was upon his feet the hope- 
 less fight still flickered. Ringed in, outnumbered, 
 with numbed arms and jagged, blunted blades, no 
 man thought of flight or surrender while DomhnaH's 
 sword yet gleamed, while his hoarse voice yet 
 gasped out words of praise. But his blade shivered 
 in his grip, and two troopers grappled with him and 
 bore him down half stunned, and what followed 
 was piteously brief. His lads died to a man, died 
 while they surged to their leader's rescue, or turned 
 dismayed for the first time to flee. 
 
 And they lifted Domhnall to his feet, and as he 
 saw that last massacre his harsh face worked and 
 his keen eyes were blurred. He had led these 
 simple valiant men to their deaths, and he himself 
 yet lived ! 
 
 They brought him to Essex upon the hillside. 
 And as he went he ruled his face to calm.
 
 164 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Unshaven, in rusty armour, foul with wounds and 
 mud, he yet looked a gallant gentleman. 
 
 And Essex, seeing it, gave courteous recognition. 
 He had expected a wild savage. What he saw was 
 a man of a breeding older than his own, who could 
 retain grave dignity in defeat. And he rose from 
 his seat and bowed as the prisoner stood before 
 him. 
 
 " What will you do with me ? " Domhnall asked. 
 " I would that you had let me die with my men." 
 
 " I give plain words to a brave man," Essex said 
 gravely. " You have fought right valiantly, but 
 you are a rebel to the queen, my mistress. I take 
 you to Casheling, and there must you die as a 
 warning to all rebels." 
 
 " You will hang me ? " Domhnall asked very 
 quietly. 
 
 " Nay, the axe, not the halter, is the portion of 
 a gentleman," Essex said with courtesy. 
 
 " I thank you," was all that Domhnall said. 
 
 Through the hills towards Casheling wound the 
 slow English column. And down upon it from the 
 hills poured without warning a whirlwind of ragged 
 mounted men ! 
 
 They came like a torrent, they came like men who 
 dreamed not of defeat. Before them there rode a 
 woman, her dark hair streaming free, her naked 
 sword aloft. At her heels there spurred a gaunt 
 giant in ragged motley and a bull-necked, red- 
 headed ruffian swinging a mighty axe. The rest 
 pressed closely with mad emulation, with the wild 
 Irish dash that ever revels in a reckless charge.
 
 HOW GRANA TOOK SWORD ONCE MORE 165 
 
 Grana had learned all happenings from the 
 country folk who were her ready spies. Grana was 
 easing her despair and heart-ache in characteristic 
 fashion. 
 
 Straight for the centre of the column, where rode 
 the prisoner closely guarded, crashed that charge. 
 It was deftly aimed, it was driven home with royal 
 fearlessness. At sight of it, at sight of its leader, 
 Domhnall rose in his stirrups and waved his empty 
 hands. " Grana ! Grana ! " he shouted, and the 
 men who rode behind his wife were yelling the same 
 name as a wild battle-cry. 
 
 A sergeant grimly bade Domhnall be silent, 
 holding a pistol to his head. But the prisoner 
 scarcely heard the man. His face was white and 
 his eyes were gleaming. His soul was in that reck- 
 less charge. And his heart was sick with fear, as 
 it had never sickened for himself. Oh, it was like 
 Grana, this daring, it was worthy of her who had 
 no fear, but better that he should die a thousand 
 times than that she should come to harm ! 
 
 God ! the charge was failing, it was spent ! 
 Essex had learned wisdom, had learned to check 
 these Irish rushes. The centre was already strong, 
 and swiftly it was reinforced. The charge drove 
 almost home, then wavered, reeled, and broke in 
 spray. Domhnall clenched his hands and groaned 
 aloud. 
 
 Swiftly as it had come the ragged troop drew off. 
 Ere the English horse could be brought up it fled 
 back for the safety of the mountain flanks. The 
 arquebuses barked, and pursuit was hotly made, but 
 these light-armed horsemen had the heels of the
 
 166 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 English. With no little loss, with its object all 
 ungained, the hills were reached. 
 
 And Domhnall's eyes brightened at sight of his 
 wife between her henchmen, the last of all to fly. 
 He saw her turn in saddle, and glance back and 
 wave her hand. And again he raised himself in his 
 stirrups and returned the signal, entirely heedless 
 of the sergeant's oath. 
 
 " Ye'll not be so gay, my cock, when we get ye 
 to Casheling ? " the fellow growled. " Who was 
 the pretty wench ariding with them scarecrows ? " 
 
 But Domhnall turned upon him, with eyes that 
 chilled. 
 
 " Do not speak of her, you ! " he said so grimly, 
 prisoner as he was, that the sergeant contented 
 himself with a muttered threat of bonds. 
 
 But Domhnall did not heed or answer. He had 
 ceased to think of the man. He was praying that 
 Grana might risk her life no more for him. 
 
 And Grana charged no more that day. She was 
 no mean general, and she could be prudent. 
 
 When she had heartened her following with praise, 
 she told her plan to Bryan Teige, Red Donell, and 
 Phelim. 
 
 " We have failed for the time, since they were 
 on their guard. But we have forced them to delay. 
 They will not reach Casheling, and must camp this 
 night among the hills. An hour before the dawn, 
 when the sentries drowse, we will try a stroke upon 
 them ! " 
 
 Her servants nodded without speech. The orders 
 suited well with their own desires. And Grana in 
 this time of bitter strain was in no mood for words.
 
 HOW GRANA TOOK SWORD ONCE MORE 167 
 
 She asked no clumsy comfort. She required from 
 her men naught save silent obedience and the 
 hazard of their lives. 
 
 Her own life she valued as a woman values a 
 worn glove. 
 
 As the sun sank the English halted for the even- 
 ing. And the prisoner's tent was pitched in the 
 centre of the camp, with a double ring of guards 
 about it, near to Essex's own pavilion. 
 
 Domhnall had no sleep that night. It ^ was not 
 fear of his own fate that kept him waking. He 
 knew that Grana had not played her last card. 
 He guessed that the English would have a rude 
 awakening ere dawn. 
 
 And that awakening came. It began with a 
 splutter of arquebuses as the sentries went down 
 beneath the leaping Irish charge. Out of the chill 
 damp dawning mists they came, a long wedge of 
 light-armed men. And that wedge clove far. Half- 
 way through the roused camp it pierced, leaving a 
 trail of dead and dying upon either flank. Half-clad 
 yelling men were breaking from the tents, seeking 
 for arms and orders, firing blindly in the half-light. 
 Maddened horses broke loose and added to the 
 wild confusion. Officers raved orders and were 
 not heard. And the wedge drove on. 
 
 Almost it won success, that reckless camisado. 
 Grana was leading it in person, and Grana had the 
 trick of plucking the extreme of courage from her 
 men's hearts. They followed her sword-gleam and 
 her gleaming hair. 
 
 Between Bryan Teige and Red Donell, with the 
 fool's long sword upon her right and the red giant's
 
 168 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 ponderous axe upon her left, with Phelim close 
 upon her heels, she led the leaping charge. 
 
 Far she won through the camp, while the surprise 
 yet held. Far she won, brushing aside the first 
 bewildered swarms. But then discipline resumed 
 its mastery. The officers regained a grip of their 
 commands. In his tent Domhnall heard the dull 
 roar as a combined attack closed home upon the 
 wedge on either flank in smashing force. 
 
 The wedge drove on, but it was reeling. Grana 
 would not admit defeat. Men's lives she spent like 
 water, recking nothing of her own. Her voice rose 
 high above the din, calling, imploring her men to 
 follow, follow, not to fail ! And " Grana ! Grana ! " 
 they roared in answer, and hacked on, heedless of 
 crushing odds. 
 
 But the light was growing, and the weight of 
 numbers told. Grana would have led her men to 
 useless death, with no thought save of the prisoner 
 whom she would save. But the flat of a turned 
 sword smashed down upon her head. She went 
 down in the reeling press. 
 
 It was Bryan Teige who saved his mistress and 
 a bare remnant of her men. He gasped out a hideous 
 oath, and swept up her limp body in his long arms. 
 
 " Guard my head, Donell ! " he roared, and 
 then, " Ring round, lads, ring round, our lady is 
 down ! " 
 
 They heard him, they saw and they rallied. A 
 red rage came to them that nerved their numbing 
 arms. The fight was lost, the forlorn hope had 
 failed, but the Dark Lady should be saved ! 
 
 They broke for the open, they hacked a way
 
 HOW GRANA TOOK SWORD ONCE MORE 169 
 
 through a jostling bristle of steel. Men died, men 
 went down fighting to the last, but the ring about 
 mad Bryan and his burden might not be broken. 
 Thinned it was, horribly thinned, ere it clove free, 
 but it won to the hills beyond pursuit. At the 
 very last Red Donell turned at bay with a devoted 
 handful, and gave Bryan and the rest a bare breath- 
 ing space. But few they were and jaded who won 
 with Red Donell to the hills. 
 
 They wetted Grana's lips with peaty water from 
 a pool, and slowly she came back to life. And she 
 understood, and she spoke with a white numb face. 
 
 " I would that you had not saved me," she said. 
 
 Bryan Teige glanced at the men who lay around 
 them, few indeed, and wounded and panting like 
 weary dogs, and he found no words of comfort. 
 
 And then Grana's old high courage woke once 
 more. 
 
 " We will yet save my lord ! " she cried. " Bryan, 
 Donell, Phelim, good lads, we are not beaten yet ! "
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 IN THE SHADOW OF THE SCAFFOLD 
 
 A PALE moon was flickering from a sullen 
 cloudy sky. It outlined the dark huddling 
 ranges of low hills and made just visible 
 the infamous rutted track which led across an endless 
 boggy plain. A chill sparse drizzle of rain was 
 falling, and an ache of dreary desolation seemed to 
 brood above the land. It found an echo in the hearts 
 of the two who followed the lonely track with weary 
 but steady steps. 
 
 The figure that led the way was that of a woman, 
 a tall woman wrapped in a long dark cloak. Behind 
 her shambled the squat shape of a bull-shouldered 
 man. The woman walked with bent head, like one 
 who has been tried almost to the snapping point, 
 who has wellnigh surrendered hope. The man 
 lurched forward with the gait of one whose slow 
 brains are untroubled by any lesser matter than an 
 urgent need of food. 
 
 The woman halted. A few lights had gleamed 
 out from a distant fold in the peaty plain. She 
 pointed towards them and spoke to the man at 
 her heels. 
 
 " That will be Casheling ? " she said. 
 
 The wan moonlight shone upon Grana's face. 
 170
 
 IN THE SHADOW OF THE SCAFFOLD 171 
 
 The last few days had wrought a change in its 
 beauty. Her dark eyes seemed larger, her cheek- 
 bones showed more clearly beneath her golden 
 skin. Her thin red lips had forgotten how to smile. 
 If Domhnall had seen her now his heart had 
 ached. 
 
 Red Donell shambled to her side. Even he, no 
 clear-sighted man in such trivial matters, could 
 mark the change in his lady, and could sorrow for 
 it in a dull, dogged fashion. He looked at her with 
 his small twinkling eyes as a stupid but faithful 
 dog may look at an impatient master, uncertain 
 whether or no to lick that master's hand, expectant 
 of a blow rather than a caress. 
 
 Wild work among the hills had wrought a change 
 for the worse in Red Donell himself. Never, as I 
 gather, was he a man troubled by vanity or given 
 to any approach to foppishness, but this night 
 the moon revealed a figure worthy of a horrid 
 dream ! It was as though the man had rolled in 
 mud and blood. Stained filth adhered to every 
 inch of him. His head was bare, and a long raw 
 gash yet oozed amid his red matted hair. There 
 were wounds upon his huge bare knotted arms, 
 and yet other wounds upon his sinewy barrel of a 
 body. Not without scathe or cost had Red Donell 
 turned at bay when it seemed that his mistress 
 must be taken. 
 
 And yet the man's strength and vitality were 
 unimpaired. Life lay deep in Red Donell, as in 
 some tough wild beast. And if events of late had 
 moved too swiftly to permit a man to wash well, 
 a man might have worse causes of complaint. This
 
 172 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 man had, for instance. He had not eaten now for 
 many hours. It was as though a wolf gnawed at 
 his vitals. 
 
 " Aye, lady, Casheling, two miles away," he said 
 humbly. 
 
 " Bryan should have met us ere now," Grana 
 said. " If he is lost to me also " 
 
 There was a dull, almost hopeless note in her 
 voice. Even Red Donell recognised it, and answered 
 it in his own fashion. He shifted the great axe he 
 carried from his right hand to his left, and spat 
 lavishly upon his right palm. The gesture if un- 
 pleasing was eloquent. It signified " You make 
 too much of this fellow Bryan, my lady ! I am 
 yet with you, I and this good axe 
 
 Grana did not heed him. She spoke on in the 
 same tone, almost as though she were speaking to 
 herself. 
 
 " I cannot spare Bryan. And yet so many have 
 died for me ! There is Phelim, poor Phelim, I know 
 not if he be living or dead " 
 
 Red Donell's hoarse growl broke in. 
 
 " I judge that he is dead or taken, the fool ! " 
 Red Donell had scant sympathy for a man weak 
 enough to be slain. " That last fight, it left you 
 without a following, lady. Well, it was gay sport 
 enough. And if 
 
 " He loved my lord, did Phelim, and my lord 
 loves him," Grana muttered absently. " I know 
 that Phelim did not grudge his life. God knows 
 I would not grudge -my own. And yet and yet 
 I still live, and my lord " 
 
 She broke off abruptly, standing silent with
 
 IN THE SHADOW OF THE SCAFFOLD 178 
 
 clenched hands and tortured face. Red Donell 
 flung her a glance of rude sympathy, and then 
 turning spoke with eagerness, thankful of a diver- 
 sion. 
 
 " Here he comes, my lady ! Here is Bryan ! So, 
 I wronged the sot ! I had fancied him drinking 
 while we shiver in this accursed rain ! " 
 
 If Grana heard the grumbled words she did not 
 check or reprove them. She knew of the raw 
 jealousy that burned sullenly between Bryan Teige 
 and Red Donell. Neither had a good word for the 
 other, and yet they worked in a quaint fellowship 
 of service to their mistress that was faithful until 
 death. 
 
 Grana hastened towards the tall gaunt figure 
 that was swinging through the fitful moonlight 
 from Casheling. 
 
 " Bryan, Bryan, you come in a good hour ! I 
 have fretted sorely what news, what news of 
 my 
 
 But the words died upon her lips at sight of the 
 fool's face. Those haggard eyes in that gaunt 
 scarred face, always they contrasted strangely 
 with Bryan Teige's ragged motley, save when 
 his brain was crazed by liquor, but they held now a 
 sombre yet savage grief that answered Grana's 
 question. It was only for her that he cared, it was 
 only because his words must pain her that he grieved. 
 The fate of Domhnall, aye all the sorrow of this 
 tragic world, had counted little with Bryan Teige, 
 save for his lady's sake. 
 
 " Lady, you need all your courage," he said 
 slowly, unwillingly.
 
 174 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " Tell me, tell me ! " Grana said, hoarsely but 
 imperiously. 
 
 Bryan Teige could be mercifully direct. 
 
 " The O' Flaherty dies by the axe at to-morrow's 
 dawn," he said. 
 
 Just for a moment Grana turned away her face. 
 Just for a moment she looked with unseeing eyes 
 towards the rugged, glooming line of hills. And 
 that moment held a lifetime of tragic, hopeless 
 grief. Then as was her custom she gripped at the 
 thought of action. 
 
 " They hold him in Casheling, then, as we heard ? 
 What of the prison ? How is it guarded ? What 
 hope is there of rescue ? Ah ! If I had but a score 
 of men ! " 
 
 " They would be useless," the fool answered 
 grimly. " The mongrel dog they call Essex is 
 hungry for blood. It is in his mind that there shall 
 be no rescue. Casheling is full of soldiers, and the 
 prison is guarded as though they feared an 
 army ! " 
 
 And then for the first time in her life Grana was 
 without hope or courage. She wrung her hands, 
 and she moaned like a tormented child. Bryan 
 Teige, even Red Donell, shivered to see and hear 
 her, standing there in her anguish under the sullen 
 sky. Always, always until this hour their lady 
 had been brave. 
 
 " What can I do, what can I do ? " she muttered. 
 " My lord, my lord to die, never to see him 
 again, never again ! " 
 
 Bryan Teige interrupted her broken words, and 
 he spoke with a woman's gentleness.
 
 IN THE SHADOW OF THE SCAFFOLD 175 
 
 " Lady, you shall see him again," he said. " I 
 have arranged for that." 
 
 Twice he repeated the words before his mistress 
 understood. And then 
 
 " I may see him ? " she asked with wonder. " Has 
 Essex granted 
 
 " Essex has granted nothing, and I would ask 
 him nothing," Bryan Teige answered savagely. 
 " As soon would I trust the faith of a rat as the 
 honour of these English ! But with the torque of 
 gold you gave me I have bought the honesty of 
 his jailer. Doubtless all that these English have is 
 for sale, at a price ! " 
 
 " And he will let me see my lord ? " Grana 
 asked. 
 
 " Aye, he would sell his own mother for that 
 torque of gold ! " the fool growled scornfully. " He 
 knows not who comes, save that it is a woman, and 
 he will ask no questions. He will scarcely betray 
 you, until he is paid his price. Yet is there danger, 
 lady. The streets are thronged with soldiers. If 
 you are recognised the best that could happen is 
 that they take you to Essex ! I doubt not that 
 he will welcome such a prize. Aye, assuredly the 
 peril will be grave ! " 
 
 " Take me to Casheling," Grana said very quietly. 
 " Peril do you think that I have thought for peril 
 in this hour ? " 
 
 " Nay," answered Bryan Teige. " I do not 
 think it." 
 
 He turned to Red Donell. 
 
 " You may not come with us," he said. " You 
 must await us here."
 
 176 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Red Donell answered him with the grunt of a 
 wild boar. 
 
 " I may not come ? Who are you to give me 
 orders ? " 
 
 Bryan Teige spoke with a savage calm. 
 
 "Is it your wish, fool, that our lady be taken ? 
 She and I, alone, may slip through, although our 
 chance is slim. But you with your filth and blood 
 what hope have you to escape men's eyes ? " 
 
 " I will come ! " Red Donell snarled. " It is my 
 right to be beside our lady 
 
 " You will abide us here, Donell," Grana said. 
 
 Red Donell promptly ceased from argument. His 
 lady's tone was quiet, but she could exact obedience, 
 even in her sore straits. Red Donell left the track, 
 and, crouching beneath a rock for some slight shelter, 
 prepared for a weary vigil. He had no thought of 
 seeking food, despite the rage of hunger in his 
 belly. That is worth noting, from Red Donell. 
 His lady might return, with sorest need of him, and 
 fail to find him. That uncleanly savage had both 
 faith and love, in his own fashion. 
 
 Grana and Bryan Teige walked swiftly towards 
 Casheling. They spoke little upon the way. Only, 
 as they drew near to the little town, Bryan Teige 
 broke the silence. 
 
 " Draw your mantle more closely about your 
 face, lady," he said. " These drunken hirelings 
 may take you for a drab, and seek to scan your 
 beauty. And if you are recognised " 
 
 " Aye, Bryan, what then ? " Grana asked, as the 
 fool paused. 
 
 " What is your pleasure, lady ? Would you have
 
 IN THE SHADOW OF THE SCAFFOLD 177 
 
 me kill you, lest worse befall, or shall you seek to 
 be brought before this mongrel Essex ? " 
 
 For a long minute Grana walked in silence. 
 She had little trust in the pity or chivalry of Essex 
 
 or any Englishman, and yet She spoke very 
 
 quietly. 
 
 " They shall lead me to Essex," she said. " After- 
 wards, if needs be, one can always die." 
 
 The fool nodded without speech, and they plodded 
 on. 
 
 Despite the chill drizzle there were many soldiers 
 in the streets of Casheling, as Bryan had said. The 
 strange pair, the tall, gaunt, ragged man and the 
 tall, cloaked woman, attracted ominous attention 
 from every half drunken loiterer whom they passed. 
 They dared not walk too swiftly, but they held 
 steadily on. And there was something about the 
 bearing of the woman's cavalier which induced 
 respect in the hearts of all whom liquor had not 
 wholly crazed. In truth he looked one who could 
 protect a woman with grim effect, that long-armed 
 greyhound of a man ! 
 
 One very drunken soldier did attempt to set 
 hand upon Grana's cloak, and a thrust of the fool's 
 arm sent him reeling into the kennel, to lie there 
 stunned. The others laughed and cracked vile 
 jokes, but let the pair pass on. 
 
 There was a sound of steady hammering from the 
 square market place of the little town. The fool 
 would have led his mistress swiftly by, shielding 
 her eyes with his tall figure from the sinister platform 
 of boards that was taking shape. But Grana looked, 
 and muttered a question. 
 
 N
 
 178 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " What are they doing ? Is it ah ! " her breath 
 escaped her in a gasping moan. " I understand ! " 
 
 They were making ready the scaffold for the 
 dawn. 
 
 Grana groped blindly with her hand for the fool's 
 arm. She clung to it like a frightened, tortured 
 child. Here amid the ruins of her world was some- 
 thing that would not fail. 
 
 She heard his voice, and few who knew Bryan 
 Teige would have recognised its gentleness. 
 
 " Lady, we are here, at the prison. You must 
 be strong. This dog of a jailer must not suspect " 
 
 Grana willed from her her weakness. She had 
 ever the quality of rising to the moment's need. 
 They were before a dark low building of weather- 
 beaten stone. The fool, after one glance at his 
 mistress, knocked upon the nail-studded door. It 
 was opened by a shock-headed, greasy knave, with 
 furtive, peering eyes. 
 
 " So, you have come back," he growled. " And 
 this ? " 
 
 " This is the wench to see the prisoner," Bryan 
 Teige answered. " Take her to him with speed." 
 
 " And the little matter of the gold " the 
 
 fellow said with a grin. 
 
 " Not a glint of it do you get till you have earned 
 it ! " the fool said grimly. " Take the girl to the 
 O'Flaherty, and I will bide with you." 
 
 The jailer with an unwilling shrug of his fat 
 shoulders motioned them within, and closed and 
 locked the door. 
 
 " This way ! " he growled. " Scurvy folks ye be, 
 for an honest man to deal with ! "
 
 IN THE SHADOW OF THE SCAFFOLD 179 
 
 The prison had the reek of a pest house. Along 
 dark and filthy passages they followed the jailer, 
 slipping and stumbling upon the dank uneven stones. 
 Before a heavy door the man halted and selected a 
 great key. 
 
 " He has quarters to himself, by my Lord Essex's 
 orders ! " he grumbled. " Too good they are for a 
 flea-bitten Irish thief ! Like a prince he lodges, so 
 please you ! Eh well, his airs and graces will be 
 ended " 
 
 Bryan Teige gripped the brute's shoulder with a 
 vice-like clutch that wrung out a startled oath. 
 
 " Cease your chatter, hound ! " the fool growled. 
 " Admit the girl, and leave her with the prisoner. 
 Then take me to your kennel. You and I will abide 
 together till they have spoken." 
 
 Doubtless the jailer had planned to spy upon the 
 interview. At the least his knavish face held dis- 
 appointment. 
 
 " For the half of an hour you may speak with 
 him, wench, no longer, not a minute ! As it is, 
 God knows, I risk my neck ! " 
 
 He unlocked the door. Grana passed within, and 
 heard it close behind her and the locks jar home. 
 She drew the mantle from before her face. 
 
 The little cell was lit by one candle of tallow. It 
 guttered within its lanthorn in the bitter draught 
 that poured through the barred slit of a window. 
 Domhnall was seated at a small table. Upon his 
 ankles were heavy fetters. His dark grim face 
 looked sharp and lean. He glanced up wearily, 
 thinking only that a jailer came with food, and saw 
 and knew his wife.
 
 180 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 While she lived, I believe, Grana never forgot 
 the change that came in that moment to his face, 
 the sudden radiance of happiness that gleamed in 
 his dark eyes. While she lived she remembered 
 the jingle of his fetters as he stumbled towards her, 
 the touch of his lips upon her own. . . . 
 
 " My dear, my dear," he whispered. " You have 
 dared too much for me ! " 
 
 " And do you think that there is aught I would 
 not dare for you ? " she answered, tenderly, 
 proudly, with wet eyes. 
 
 And then he forced her to be seated in the one 
 chair, and he knelt beside her, and while he knelt 
 he touched with his lips her long slim hands. And 
 for a while they did not speak. Their world had 
 narrowed strangely. It was sufficient for them that 
 they were together, for a little while. 
 
 Grana was the first to remember. Her hands 
 grew cold beneath his lips, and he felt her shiver. 
 
 " Almost almost I had forgotten ! " she mur- 
 mured. " In a little while 
 
 He smiled up at her with proud eyes that were 
 almost gay. 
 
 " It has no terrors for me, the dawn," he said. 
 " Like a gentleman I have striven to play my part, 
 and like a gentleman I shall pay the price of failure. 
 It is only for you I grieve, sweetheart, only for 
 you and the brave lads who died for me. Once you 
 yourself faced death, as I am facing it. And well 
 I know that you did not shrink ! " 
 
 " You saved me," Grana said. " You came pre- 
 pared to pay with your life for mine. My dear, 
 I too would have saved you if I could ! "
 
 IN THE SHADOW OF THE SCAFFOLD 181 
 
 He laughed softly, caressing her hands. 
 
 " Can I doubt it, I who saw your charge ? Oh, 
 my lady, my lady, in all the world there is none 
 like you ! And it has been my happiness to win 
 your heart ! " 
 
 " You won it in that grey dawn when they would 
 have hanged me, when you came to save me ! " 
 Grana whispered. "I see it now, the red smear of 
 sunrise, the swaying rope, the white-faced priest. 
 And then, between the long lines of watching, 
 staring soldiers, you came and in your hands 
 you took my heart ! You have held it since that 
 hour. Do you remember 
 
 And for a while they spoke of small matters, 
 little piteous things that wring the heart in such 
 an hour. And while they spoke the remorseless 
 minutes slid with speed. 
 
 Again it was Grana who remembered. A clink 
 of Dornhnall's fetters recalled for her the approach- 
 ing dawn, the thud of the hammers upon the 
 scaffold. . . . Her eyes that had been bright grew 
 dull. 
 
 " That they should chain you ! " she muttered. 
 " Was not this Essex content " 
 
 Domhnall laughed quietly. 
 
 " I bear no grudge against that boy," he said. 
 " He lacks not courtesy. He permits me the indul- 
 gence of the axe rather than the halter. And as for 
 these," he pointed smilingly to his chains, " they 
 are his compliment to one who caused him trouble, 
 who did not yield with ease. My lady, we have 
 taught these complacent English to respect our 
 Irish lads ! "
 
 182 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Grana clenched her long hands and her dark 
 eyes held fierce fires. 
 
 " You would have triumphed, but for those 
 others, those sorry, treacherous curs ! Oh, when I 
 think of them, Murrough, Ferrall, and the rest, who 
 failed you in your need ! I do not wish to live 
 indeed, my lord, I do not think that I can bear to 
 live when you, when you are gone but I would 
 be revenged upon those traitors ! " 
 
 Domhnall clasped her hands more closely. 
 
 " Have no more thought of them, my lady. 
 For me, I would rather die to-morrow as I must, 
 than live on with their shame in my heart. But 
 you you have another cause for living, one that 
 warms my heart to think of ! There is a certain 
 small son of ours to be remembered ! " 
 
 " Tibot ! Tibot ! " Grana whispered, and her 
 tears fell fast. They gleamed like jewels upon 
 Domhnall's dark hair as she bent her face above it. 
 
 " You will make of him a very perfect knight," 
 Domhnall said gently. " I think that beneath your 
 care he will grow to be a man who ah ! Such a 
 man as I should have wished to be " 
 
 " If he be like his father, I ask no more," Grana 
 whispered. " The world will be dark, my lord, but 
 I will strive to live for him, since since he will 
 
 have none save me "' She bowed herself with 
 
 a moan, and Domhnall put his arms around her, and 
 for a while they spoke of their little son. But what 
 they said need not be written here. 
 
 Afterwards they spoke of Phelim, of Bryan, and 
 Red Donell. And last of all they spoke of them- 
 selves and of their love. They spoke as a man and
 
 IN THE SHADOW OF THE SCAFFOLD 183 
 
 woman who love may speak when they have but 
 a little while, when death is near, when all self- 
 consciousness is laid aside. And such speech may 
 well be sacred. 
 
 When the end came neither failed, neither was 
 wanting. At sound of a blow upon the door they 
 stood erect, and looked for a long moment into each 
 other's eyes. Then Domhnall gently drew the 
 mantle before his wife's face. 
 
 " He must not know you, for Tibet's sake," he 
 said. " My dear lady, it is farewell." 
 
 " Farewell," she whispered, and forced herself 
 to walk towards the door. It opened, and she 
 passed through. She dared not risk another glance. 
 
 It is likely that she remembered little of their 
 passage through the streets. She walked with her 
 arm upon the fool's, like one who walks in sleep. 
 No one spoke to them upon their way. The crowd 
 had thinned, for the drizzle had quickened into 
 lashing rain. She did not hear or heed Bryan 
 Teige's sudden exclamation. The fool was staring 
 after a dim seen figure. 
 
 " Phelim ! I could have sworn that that was 
 Phelim's dwarfish back ! " Bryan muttered to him- 
 self. " But no ! My eyes are playing me tricks. 
 Phelim is dead or taken ! " 
 
 With the sick weariness that comes when all is 
 ended, when the need for thought is passed, with 
 his white-faced, haggard mistress wellnigh a dead 
 weight upon his arm, Bryan Teige began to trudge 
 doggedly to where Red Donell waited under the 
 leaping rain. 
 
 Essex sat alone in his rich chamber. He had
 
 184 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 dismissed his captains and his gentlemen. A great 
 silver flagon was upon the table, and spilled dregs 
 of wine gleamed like rubies upon the polished wood. 
 Essex clashed down a jewelled, golden beaker, with 
 a hand that shook. He had drunken deeply, but 
 he was not drunk. His handsome face looked 
 white and pinched, and his eyes held sullen shadows. 
 A devil rode him, the devil that haunted the occa- 
 sional dark hours of his wild, gay life. 
 
 " Of what is he thinking, the O' Flaherty ? " he 
 muttered. " I wonder if he fears, this Irish gentle- 
 man who fought so well ? What must it be like, 
 to sit in a little room, and see the hours speed by, 
 the last hours of one's life ? To think of the ring 
 of white faces about the scaffold, to feel in fancy the 
 stroke of the headsman's axe, to look forward into 
 
 the darkness that lies beyond Does he fear, 
 
 does he fear ? Should I fear in his place ? " 
 
 He laughed oddly, wildly, with a strange bitter- 
 ness. 
 
 " Will it come to that, for me also, one day ? 
 Shall I also sit watchful through my last night on 
 earth, knowing that the red dawn will gleam upon 
 the axe ? Ugh, the loathly trappings of such a 
 death ! The mockery of dignity, the sorry pageant, 
 the whinings of the dark-robed priests, the sharp 
 fresh smell of the strewn sawdust, the murmur of 
 the waiting crowd ! And the faces of my old 
 enemies, hiding their smiles of triumph behind 
 decorous masks ! There would be many at court 
 blithe to see Essex die with shame ! " 
 
 He sprang from his chair and began to pace the 
 chamber with long, uneven strides.
 
 IN THE SHADOW OF THE SCAFFOLD 185 
 
 " They would all come, Raleigh, Cobham, Hatton, 
 and the rest ! Cecil, he too, would be there, in 
 spirit at least ! It might seem beneath the 
 dignity of the arch hypocrite to gloat in person 
 over my death. But none would rejoice more 
 heartily over my fall than he. Often enough, in 
 my heyday, I have given him cause for troubled 
 thought. But Philip Sidney he at least, if he were 
 living yet, would not be there ! True spirit of 
 chivalry that he was, it would pleasure him little 
 to see Lucifer plunge down from heaven to the 
 burning pit. Perchance he was the one man who 
 soared above me for whom I had never jealousy ! 
 But Raleigh Walter Raleigh there was ever 
 jealous hate between us ! I am right sure that 
 Raleigh would come to watch me die ! " 
 
 Suddenly he ceased his pacing, and he flung his 
 clenched hands high above his head, and his eyes 
 gleamed. 
 
 " They think I am down and humbled for ever ! 
 They think I am to rot among these Irish bogs until 
 ague or a pike thrust ends my dreams of triumph ! 
 Curse them, those cunning courtiers, who could 
 ever lie and flatter and slander more skilfully than 
 I ! They poisoned Gloriana's mind against me right 
 adroitly ! And God knows I had begun to believe 
 myself omnipotent. I thought she loved me she 
 who is ruled by her consuming vanity and loves 
 only herself in all the world ! But there is still a 
 chance ! " 
 
 There came the flush of the great gambler to his 
 cheeks. 
 
 " What if I hazard all upon one cast ! What if I
 
 186 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 defy her orders that have doomed me endlessly to 
 these wastes ? What if I fly back to London to 
 cast myself at her feet and protest that life without 
 the glory of her radiant presence were unbearable 
 to me ? It might serve it might serve with 
 Gloriana ! No flattery is too gross for her ! " 
 
 He stood for a moment like one who weighs the 
 chances. And then 
 
 " If the cast wins, all's well, all's well ! The ball 
 is at my foot again, the great gleaming game of high 
 ambition is mine to play once more ! I'll have my 
 gloating enemies at my feet, I'll see them gnash 
 their teeth for bitterness, Raleigh and the rest ! 
 'Twere worth a little hazard to turn that dream 
 to fact ! . . . And if I fail, if Gloriana's heart's 
 still hard, well what then ? Death, at the worst, 
 death by the axe, the death to which I've doomed 
 this Irish gentleman. By God and all His angels, 
 better such a swift clean death as that, than end- 
 less exile among these stinking bogs ! " 
 
 He filled the golden beaker and raised it to his 
 lips with a hand that was steady now. He set it 
 down empty, and he sank into a chair. And then 
 he laughed like the reckless boy he was. 
 
 " I shall do it ! In a little while, if I know myself, 
 I shall break these bonds and hey again for London ! 
 All life's but a gamble, and I shall gamble to the 
 last. Gods ! But Gloriana's face would be worth 
 the seeing when I broke in upon her ! Curse her, 
 for a lean, heartless, barren faggot of a woman a 
 gaunt withered maypole hung round with priceless 
 gems ! But she shall choke with flattery if that 
 will win me power once more ! "
 
 IN THE SHADOW OF THE SCAFFOLD [187 
 
 He filled a long silver pipe with Virginia and 
 smoked a while. After a space he spoke once more, 
 slowly with frowning brows. 
 
 " That Irishman ! I cannot get him out of my 
 thoughts ! I would that I had let him die in battle. 
 I'd spare him now, but that I may not go back 
 upon my word. It is a curst fate for a brave man 
 to sit and wait for the axe at dawn ! " 
 
 It may be that then, as he stared into the blue 
 curling smoke clouds, he knew with certainty that 
 he himself, in but a little while, would w r ait for the 
 axe at dawn.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 HOW PHELIM CHEATED THE AXE 
 
 PHELIM had not been taken, nor was he slain. 
 In the last hopeless fight, when Grana had 
 made her final despairing effort against 
 crushing odds, he had been separated from his 
 mistress, Bryan Teige and Red Donell. Dizzy and 
 bleeding he had reeled from the press, to fall and 
 lie in a long deathlike swoon. When life came back 
 to him, the fight had roared far away, the night 
 had fallen and his wounds had dried upon him. He 
 dragged himself to his feet, stood for a moment in 
 painful thought, then, with a quick jerk of the head, 
 set off at a long doglike trot in the direction of 
 Casheling. 
 
 There was only one thought in his weary brain. 
 His master would be imprisoned at Casheling. 
 There, beyond all doubt, he would meet his death 
 at the hands of these merciless English. Somehow, 
 somehow, he must be rescued. Open fight had 
 failed. The Lady Grana had dared all risks in vain. 
 It remained for one lonely, stupid man (Phelim had 
 ever the lowest opinion of his own wits) to try his 
 hand at strategy. 
 
 He begged rough food at a lonely cottage, for 
 Ireland, even where aching poverty rules, practises 
 1 88
 
 HOW PHELIM CHEATED THE AXE 189 
 
 ever a royal hospitality, and came before the dawn 
 to Casheling. 
 
 The English were there in force, but he found 
 friends and sympathisers in plenty. In the little 
 town and for miles around was seething hatred 
 against Essex and his conquering aliens. The town 
 was held beneath an iron hand, but in almost every 
 house, and more especially in those where the 
 English troops were quartered, there crouched men 
 with a wild desire for vengeance in their hearts. 
 That desire had been quite blind and hopeless, 
 until Phelim limped and staggered into Casheling. 
 Love for his master lent inspiration to the dwarfish 
 squire. Here was one who could offer to the 
 cowering, savage, half-crushed townsfolk a chance 
 to baulk these aliens of thtir blood lust. 
 
 From house to house went Phelim when he had 
 snatched a crust of food. He had learnt that his 
 master lay in the prison. His fate would be decided 
 on the morrow. None doubted what that fate 
 would be. The O' Flaherty would die by the axe 
 upon the following dawn. And with that knowledge 
 searing his heart, Phelim, in his bloody rags, found 
 eloquence to spur the men of Casheling to a desperate 
 deed. 
 
 Through the day he lay hid in the hut of a friend. 
 When night fell he spoke to a picked band of 
 tattered fighters whom he had summoned to a tryst 
 among the bogs a mile or so from Casheling. Each 
 man of them was reckless. Each man of them had 
 suffered at English hands. The driving rain soaked 
 their rags and hissed upon the single torch they 
 dared to show. Phelim stood beside it, still foul
 
 190 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 from war and travel, and spoke as only a simple 
 valiant man who loves with his whole heart can 
 speak. 
 
 " Ye know, lads, that my master, the O' Flaherty, 
 is to die at the dawn. This day his murder has been 
 settled by the bastard Essex. There is no need to 
 speak of my master to you. Some of you have 
 fought behind him, to all of you his fame is known. 
 He had no thought for himself in those last wild 
 days of righting. It was only for us, his men, that he 
 thought, as ever. I would that you had seen him 
 as I saw him." 
 
 It was not only the driving rain which blurred 
 Phelim's ugly faithful eyes. He was seeing pictures 
 of that wild hopeless campaign among the hills. 
 He heard once more his master's grave kindly voice 
 as he dismissed him with the letter for his wife. He 
 dashed his gnarled hands against his eyes and spoke 
 out hoarsely. 
 
 " Lads, lads, will ye see him die at dawn, if I can 
 show ye one little chance to save him ? " 
 
 They answered him with a low menacing growl 
 whose savage anger warmed his blood. Ever may 
 the Irish be stirred by a speaker of simplicity who 
 fears not to bare his heart before their eyes. 
 
 And then he told them of his plan. It was wild, 
 it was hopeless, it was reckless enough, even to 
 satisfy those ragged, hate-warmed Irishmen ! He 
 told them of the part that he himself would play, 
 and, hearing him, they realised that Phelim pro- 
 posed with naked simplicity, without heroics, to 
 give his life for his master. There was scarcely one 
 chance in twenty that the squire could win through,
 
 HOW PHELIM CHEATED THE AXE 191 
 
 living, from the rescue. And he gave to certain 
 others their directions, speaking with dogged slow- 
 ness that there might be no mistake. And when at 
 last he was sure that they understood they saw him 
 smile with relief in the light of the flickering torch. 
 
 " It is well, friends. It would warm my master's 
 heart if he knew that we were working for him. It 
 may be that he guesses as much. Perchance one 
 day he will thank you. And now it will be well to 
 scatter and return to the town singly or in twos and 
 threes. The English must not guess that we have 
 a plan. Remember the eastern corner of the 
 market square ! " 
 
 It had been Phelim, slinking back to the town for 
 an hour or two of sleep, whom Bryan Teige had 
 sighted as he led Grana from Casheling after her last 
 meeting with her husband. If the fool had been 
 able to speak with the squire Grana's future had 
 been different in many ways. As it was, Bryan's 
 hands were amply filled with the charge of his 
 broken-hearted mistress, and with her he believed 
 that the last card had been played, that Domhnall 
 must die at dawn. 
 
 Domhnall had slept well, as a man may sleep who 
 has faith in his own nerve and courage to die coolly 
 without disgrace or shame, who believes that death 
 itself is but an incident if a man has borne himself 
 with cleanness. A tall lean priest woke him with a 
 gentle touch upon the shoulder. He had been 
 dreaming of Grana, of Tibot and Kildownet, but 
 instantly he remembered, and he smiled up into the 
 sad eyes of the priest. 
 
 " Greeting, Father," he said cheerily. " I mean
 
 192 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 no discourtesy if I say that I would you had delayed 
 to wake me for a little while. The dream was 
 pleasant which you were forced to break. I was 
 once more at KUdownet, at speech with my sweet 
 lady and that small brave rogue, my son. He had 
 begged my sword of me, and I had given it to him 
 in my dream. Now I must remember that the good 
 blade snapped in our last fight. I would that I 
 might have sent it to my son ! " 
 
 The priest found no words to say. 
 
 " Kildownet was looking fairly, in my dream," 
 Domhnall said half absently. " That grey bay 
 with its swift leaping tides beneath dark old 
 Slievemore it is strangely dear to me. I would have 
 wished to die with the sound of the sea in my ears. 
 . . . But such talk is a weak folly ! " 
 
 " It were indeed well to turn your thoughts to 
 higher things, my son," the priest said gently. 
 
 Domhnall laughed softly. To the priest's eyes, 
 peering through the grey dawn light that lit the 
 cell, it seemed that his dark face had lost much of 
 its grim harshness. 
 
 " Are there, then, higher things, good Father ? 
 The love of wife and child, the faith of gallant men 
 sore tried and found not wanting, the salt cleanness 
 of the sea, the green wet land that bred me are 
 there higher things than these ? If so, I fear that 
 I may not rise to them, in my earthiness. They are 
 in my heart now, and they will be in my heart at 
 the last of all upon the scaffold." 
 
 " Your sins, my son, and the dread Judge of 
 all " 
 
 " Aye, I have sinned often, Father," Domhnall
 
 HOW PHELIM CHEATED THE AXE 193 
 
 said almost gaily. " I will make confession with due 
 contrition. But but I fear me that I cannot bring 
 myself to grovel ! I do not think that God would 
 wish it. His own Son did not grovel at the thought 
 of His long agony." 
 
 " He had no sins, my son, and you do not forget, 
 in your high courage, that " 
 
 Domhnall knelt before the priest and spoke with 
 sudden soberness. 
 
 " God forgive me, I had no thought of braggart 
 boasting ! I ask forgiveness for my words, Father, 
 of God and you. And yet and yet there is a 
 tingle in my blood as though I were going out to 
 fight rather than to die ! ... I pray you to confess 
 and shrive me, if you may." 
 
 Later he ate a sparing meal, and rose bright-eyed 
 at sound of the clank of steel without his cell. 
 
 He took his place in the sinister procession. 
 Before him went a strong guard of pikemen. Then 
 came the tall figure of the masked headsman, with 
 the blade of his long axe towards the prisoner. The 
 priest walked beside Domhnall, pattering a stream 
 of prayers. Upon either hand were pikemen, and 
 a body of arquebusiers tramped in the rear. They 
 had knocked the galling fetters from the prisoner's 
 limbs. He walked with a light springy step, with 
 a half-smile upon his lips. He drew in the clean 
 moist air with a sigh of happiness as they quitted 
 the pest-house taint of the dark prison, and he 
 looked up at the grey, dripping clouds with the eyes 
 of a man who loves the open spaces of the sky. 
 
 " It rains but what matters it ? " he said 
 whimsically. " The better the day, the better the
 
 194 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 deed, they say. This day is well enough for what we 
 have to do." 
 
 Women wailed from the rude houses as he passed. 
 Little children were held up to the casement that 
 they might see the O'Flaherty pass to his death, 
 that they might grow up with burning hate against 
 the pitiless English. With puzzled faces, with grave 
 enquiring eyes, the children watched him pass. He 
 looked strangely happy, this dark-faced gentleman, 
 and yet their mothers were weeping and muttering 
 black, bitter curses. 
 
 The market square was a jam of people. Wet and 
 tattered, grim-eyed and silent, they waited under 
 the pelting rain. Thickest of all were they crowded 
 in the eastern angle. 
 
 A guarded lane had been formed for the passage 
 of the prisoner. He walked briskly along it and 
 climbed the few steps that led to the platform of 
 boards which stood up like an island above the 
 white faces of the waiting crowd. Domhnall glanced 
 serenely at the block, and then faced the throng. 
 It was in his mind to say a few words before he died. 
 It is certain that he had given up all thought of life. 
 
 But as his lips opened there was a sudden fierce 
 swirl in the crowd at the eastern corner of the 
 square, and his voice was drowned in a wild pealing 
 yell. 
 
 Essex, watching from an open window, sitting in 
 a great chair with wine before him, waiting with 
 his gentlemen as for an entertainment, sprang to his 
 feet and roared an order. But that order came 
 too late. 
 
 That surging, rushing swirl of men was irresistible.
 
 HOW PHELIM CHEATED THE AXE 195 
 
 To a man they were armed with cudgels and many 
 had drawn long knives from beneath their coats. 
 The thick ring of guards about the scaffold was 
 broken, pierced by that heavy wave. The pikemen 
 at the eastern angle were trampled under foot. The 
 rest stood firm with menacing points, for now from 
 all the crowded square arose a savage roar. The 
 people understood. There might yet be a chance 
 of life for the man they loved. They surged forward 
 with clenched bare hands, to recoil from the gleam- 
 ing points. 
 
 Phelim, heading the rush, had leaped upon the 
 scaffold. A dozen followed him with brandished 
 clubs. The masked headsman recoiled, and then, 
 swinging up his great axe, struck a heavy blow at 
 the little squire. Phelim sprang aside, and ran his 
 sword through the man's body. " Swift, my lord ! " 
 he shouted. " All are friends yonder, and there are 
 horses ! " 
 
 There came a heavy spluttering roar. The 
 arquebusiers had pulled trigger. 
 
 Domhnall threw up his hands and pitched down 
 upon his face. Phelim reeled, plucked at his side 
 with an odd gesture, then pulled himself together. 
 He glanced sharply around. Every second was of 
 value. The head of a heavy column of pikemen 
 was swinging into the square. They were rein- 
 forcements held in readiness in case of need. The 
 crowd sprayed out before them as they charged 
 towards the scaffold. Phelim, deadly white, with 
 tight - clenched lips, stooped and strove to raise 
 his master in his arms. But his strength failed 
 him.
 
 196 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " Lift him ! " he gasped, and two of his followers 
 swung up Domhnall from the boards. Phelim 
 pointed, and they understood. His men had surged 
 behind him to the scaffold. The lane that led to 
 open country was a swaying jam. From hand to 
 hand, with amazing speed, DomhnaU's limp body 
 was passed above the heads of the crowd. By the 
 same strange path Phelim also was borne. The 
 crowd, offering little active resistance, opposed 
 by mere weight of numbers the passage of the 
 pikemen raging in pursuit. Phelim's strategy had 
 won a start, a bare start, for his master and 
 himself. 
 
 Three horses were in readiness, held by tattered 
 gossoons. Phelim reeled to a stirrup, and dragged 
 himself into the saddle. " Give him to me ! " he 
 muttered, and DomhnaU's body was thrown up 
 before him. Phelim gripped it with one hand, 
 and drove home his heels. Two of his followers 
 leaped to saddle and followed him at a wild 
 gallop through the driving rain. 
 
 Phelim could not tell whether or no his master 
 lived, and for himself, he knew almost to a certainty 
 that he had but a little span of life. A ball from 
 an arquebus had pierced deep into his side. He 
 was aware of a warm wet trickle that drained his 
 strength. Had he been willing to trust his master 
 to other hands he could never have got to saddle. 
 As it was, his love drove him, his failing strength 
 answered to the insistent call of his will. His 
 master, living or dead, should not be suffered to fall 
 into the hands of these English dogs. 
 
 They were heading for the ragged hills that rose
 
 HOW PHELIM CHEATED THE AXE 197 
 
 huddling from the dark plain. If they could reach 
 them with a start, all might be well. And luck was 
 with the fugitives. There had been delay in the 
 pursuit. No horses had been at hand. Phelim had 
 gambled upon that chance. The crowd had 
 zealously hampered the raving blaspheming troopers. 
 But by now they were spurring madly over the plain. 
 
 Phelim's brain was whirling. There were blotches 
 of red and black floating before his eyes. He reeled 
 in the saddle as he drove his horse. But always 
 his arm retained its grip upon his master. He was 
 dying in the saddle, and he knew it, but it was his 
 one fervent hope to see his master safe before he 
 yielded to this accursed weakness. 
 
 Now they were among the hills, and spurring 
 through the twisting valleys. The chances of escape 
 were shifting in their favour. But the race was 
 not yet won. The troopers were not far behind. 
 Phelim's horse was flagging beneath its double 
 burden. Phelim was smiling vaguely as he rode. 
 Three-quarters of his brain was following a pleasant 
 dream through sunny fields. With the other 
 fragment of his brain he knew that though he was 
 dying he must not fail to hold his master upon 
 their tiring horse. 
 
 Suddenly his eyes cleared. All of his brain was 
 once more subject to his will. He knew that his 
 strength had reached its limits. If he did not 
 yield to his body's weakness his master would be 
 endangered. Somehow he contrived to draw rein. 
 " Take the O'Flaherty ! " he muttered. He was 
 obeyed. He felt the weight withdrawn from his 
 slackening arm. " And now ride on, ride on ! "
 
 198 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 he gasped imperiously, and reeled heavily from the 
 saddle to the ground. 
 
 A man was bending above him. The other had 
 ridden on with his senseless burden. Phelim opened 
 his eyes, and the snarl of a wounded wolf came from 
 his lips. " I bade you ride on ! Follow, follow ! " 
 he gasped, and he strengthened the order with a 
 savage oath that ill fitted the tongue of a dying 
 man. 
 
 But it carried conviction. His follower climbed 
 once more to saddle and spurred after the other 
 fugitive. Phelim knew that he was left to die alone, 
 and a strange quaint grin of pure happiness twisted 
 his lips. Somehow, somehow he had accomplished 
 what he had set himself to do. And such love as 
 his recks nothing of cost. 
 
 Fate, with its freakish sense of humour, plans 
 strange meetings. It caused Grana to stumble 
 upon the dying squire a while later, when yet there 
 was breath in his body. She had passed the night 
 without sleep in a rude hill hut with her two 
 servants. Now, walking in blind misery, almost 
 heedless of capture, she was heading for Kildownet. 
 
 She knelt with a cry beside Phelim's body. A 
 glance showed her that the little man was beyond 
 human aid. His eyes were deeply sunken, his face 
 was ashy grey, and his fingers plucked feebly at 
 the coarse grass. 
 
 But he knew her, and with his last flicker of breath 
 he strove to speak. That was a vital moment in 
 Grana' s life. She herself had no doubt but that 
 Domhnall was already dead. 
 
 " My lord Domhnall " Phelim murmured, and
 
 HOW PHELIM CHEATED THE AXE 199 
 
 then he gave an odd little gasp, and his head dropped 
 back. He had given his life for his master, and it 
 was not unfitting that he should die with that 
 master's name upon his lips. 
 
 But if strength had been given him to speak 
 another word this story had been different.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 HOW GRANA WON TO KILDOWNET AND TO 
 CRUEL NEWS 
 
 DOMHN ALL'S wounds were grave indeed, 
 but not mortal. One heavy bullet had 
 passed through his body, another had 
 grazed his head. 
 
 He slipped from his swoon into delirium. He lay 
 for long days in a dark cave among the hills, raving 
 of his wife and Tibot, of a red fight when men had 
 turned at bay against long odds, of a man who must 
 die at dawn beneath the axe. He knew nothing of 
 the tattered men who nursed him with clumsy 
 tenderness, who held water to his parched lips and 
 strove to keep the life in his wasted body, who were 
 risking their lives for him without a murmur. The 
 English were searching for their late prisoner with 
 grim determination. The troopers were every- 
 where, greedy to earn the gold that Essex offered. 
 That gold had been wealth indeed for the men who 
 had rescued Domhnall, who held his life in their 
 hands, and for the peasants scattered among the 
 hills who knew, each one, of the O'Flaherty's 
 hiding-place. But no man or woman of them was 
 base enough to earn that easy wealth. 
 
 Connaught was crushed for the time. Essex 
 held the wild stormy land beneath an iron grip.
 
 HOW GRANA WON TO KILDOWNET 201 
 
 There were vague rumours that Kildownet had 
 fallen, that Grana herself was a prisoner condemned 
 to die. The Irish crouched like dogs licking their 
 wounds. It was impossible to get true news. As 
 for the men, guarding and nursing Domhnall, their 
 hands were full. With the English swarming in 
 force through the hills, it was hopeless to send news 
 of Domhnall's plight to Grana, even if Kildownet 
 still held out. They could but wait with stolid 
 faith and loyalty. If the O'Flaherty lived, if the 
 Dark Lady were uncaptured in her famous castle, 
 all might yet be well. 
 
 There was some truth in those grim rumours. 
 Grana herself had come very near to capture. A 
 ragged peasant had crept from the rocks as she knelt 
 beside Phelim's lifeless body. 
 
 Grana paid no heed to him, but he had recognised 
 the Dark Lady. He spoke eagerly to Bryan Teige, 
 pouring out a quick flood of words with terror- 
 stricken eyes and pointing hands. The fool touched 
 his mistress gently upon the shoulder. 
 
 " Lady, we may not tarry here," he said, as she 
 glanced up with dull, heavy eyes. " This fellow 
 has ill news. There is an English column out among 
 the hills. If you would not be taken we must lie 
 hid till dark." 
 
 " I care not," Grana answered stonily, and bent 
 again above Phelim. 
 
 Bryan Teige spoke more sharply. 
 
 " It were madness to linger, lady.,. This fellow, 
 I know not if he lies, but he says that Kildownet 
 itself has been attacked ! Essex struck hard and
 
 202 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 swiftly when once he had the O' Flaherty in his 
 hands." 
 
 The dullness left Grana's eyes. 
 
 " Kildownet ? Then Tibot my son he may be 
 slain or taken ! " 
 
 " Doubtless it is but a lying tale," Bryan answered. 
 " The fellow is but a fool, as you can see. At the 
 least, the hills are full of wild tales, these days. 
 But we must travel with caution " 
 
 Grana seemed not to hear him. 
 
 " Tibot if they have Tibot also ! " she muttered. 
 " Oh, then indeed my cup will be filled " 
 
 " I say that it is a lie ! " Bryan said firmly. 
 " They may have attacked Kildownet it were 
 another matter for them to take it ! Half a score 
 of men can hold the castle against five hundred. 
 But, lady, if you would not have them take the 
 castle and the little lord even yet " 
 
 Grana's pride seemed to wake at last. Ever 
 Kildownet had meant much to her. 
 
 " These English murderers ! God's curse upon 
 them, I am not wholly beaten yet ! They shall 
 learn that Grana can still strike, and with a heavy 
 hand ! Kildownet and my son ! " 
 
 " If you would not lose them both, you will 
 hasten, but with caution, to the castle, lady ! " 
 Bryan Teige said abruptly. " Kildownet needs us 
 all us three ! They are but fools, the lads we 
 left to hold it ! It irks me to think of the good 
 castle hazarded in the care of such dull cattle ! " 
 
 " Aye, we will go ! " Grana said. " But Phelim 
 must be buried first." 
 
 Bryan Teige stamped upon the ground. Even
 
 HOW GHANA WON TO KILDOWNET 203 
 
 Red Donell's little eyes flickered impatiently. 
 Their lady's life was priceless above jewels in their 
 view. That it should be imperilled for the sake of 
 a dead squire, for the burying of mere carrion ! 
 
 "It is stark madness, lady ! " Bryan exclaimed, 
 and Red Donell grunted his grim agreement. 
 
 Grana raised herself from her knees to her full 
 height. They made a strange picture, those ragged 
 fugitives, among the green rolling Irish hills, 
 beneath the grey tender Irish sky. Still may you 
 see them if you have the power to dream the 
 gaunt righting fool in his tattered motley, the bull- 
 shouldered, red-haired giant filthy and stained, the 
 staring peasant, the dead, dwarfish squire with his 
 ugly faithful face, and Grana, the famed Dark Lady 
 her riding-gown of green mired and torn, her black 
 hair wild and lustreless, her beauty marred by the 
 tragic grief that dulled the glory of her Irish eyes. 
 Almost was she beaten to her knees, the Dark Lady, 
 but still could she reward and honour loyalty at 
 hazard to herself. 
 
 " He died for my lord," she said simply. " He 
 loved my lord, this brave, dead Phelim, as I think 
 none other loved him, save myself. He shall not 
 lie unburied beneath the rain. He shall not lie 
 here to be spurned by the English as they pass. 
 Will ye do my bidding, or must I bury him with my 
 own hands ? " 
 
 Bryan Teige and Red Donell bowed their heads, 
 attempting no further reasoning. After all, their 
 lady's life was her own to hazard royally. For 
 themselves they had never feared. 
 
 " Dig a bed for him with your swords," Grana
 
 204 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 said. " Our Irish soil is softer than the hearts of 
 these English. And he will forgive us if he lies not 
 deep, poor Phelim ! " 
 
 The three men, working with savage haste, 
 slashed out a shallow grave with speed. The peaty 
 soil was soft, as Grana said. Ireland has never 
 grudged a grave to her sons, too often the only 
 hospitality her poverty can give. Grana straight- 
 ened Phelim's limbs, and bent and touched his 
 forehead with her lips. 
 
 " Thanks, Phelim, thanks for my lord's sake 
 and my own ! " she whispered. 
 
 Bryan Teige shrugged his gaunt shoulders, and 
 his eyes smouldered with a raw jealousy as he 
 watched. 
 
 " He has honour, this Phelim, beyond his de- 
 serts ! " he muttered. 
 
 And then they buried Phelim, and smoothed 
 down the soil above him, and there he sleeps to 
 this day. His grave is unmarked and unhonoured, 
 but if simple love and loyalty and boundless courage 
 count for aught he should sleep well. 
 
 They say, the Irish peasants say, that every 
 spring-time a wild rose bush flowers above his 
 grave, because the Dark Lady honoured him with 
 her lips. But the Irish are poet dreamers, and there 
 are many wild roses among the Connaught hills. 
 
 Until the evening Grana lay hid with her ser- 
 vants among a huddle of dark rocks. They watched 
 an English troop swing clanking by, almost 
 within hand's touch of their crouching - place. 
 They heard their oaths and laughter, they listened 
 to their speech that grated so harshly upon their
 
 HOW GRANA WON TO KILDOWNET 205 
 
 Irish ears. The troopers were in high feather for 
 some cause. The hunted fugitives glared out at 
 them with eyes that held wild hate, with hands 
 that itched to slay. 
 
 With evening they left their hiding-place and 
 hastened through the darkness for Kildownet. And 
 from every lonely hut they heard of English tri- 
 umphs, the very hills seemed to whisper that the 
 English held the land. Certain news of Kildownet 
 Grana could not learn, but she toiled over the rough 
 ground through the darkness with eyes that were 
 haggard with suspense. If Kildownet had fallen 
 if Tibot But she could not think of that, she 
 dared not think of it. 
 
 In the grey dawn they came to a lonely hut, and 
 rested for a while, and ate the rude fare that a bare- 
 footed man and woman pressed upon them. They 
 also had no sure news, but they told of certain 
 rumours which deepened the lines about Grana's 
 thin red lips. The man went forth in a little while 
 to scan the hills for danger, and returned with 
 blanched face and starting eyes. 
 
 " A score of English are riding down the valley 
 they are almost here ! " he gasped. " Dear Mary 
 Mother, help us ! " 
 
 Bryan Teige's hand leaped to the hilt of his long 
 sword. His eyes lit almost cheerily. Red Donell 
 clutched at his heavy axe. Grana was upon her 
 feet, cool and fearless as ever in the teeth of pressing 
 peril. 
 
 " Can we not hide ? " she said quietly. 
 
 Bryan Teige pointed to the doorway of the hut. 
 
 " We shall hold it, Donell and I, against a score,"
 
 206 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 he said gaily. " It should be sweet work, my lady, 
 and easy, against such dogs ! " 
 
 Red Donell chuckled, and for once his eyes were 
 friendly as they met mad Bryan's. 
 
 But the woman of the hut rose to the emergency, 
 although her man was half crazed at thought of the 
 danger of such a guest. She peered through a crack 
 in the rough stone wall. 
 
 " They come from the front," she cried. " Out 
 to the back, my lady ! The peat stack will give you 
 hiding ! " 
 
 Grana smiled, for the first time for many days. 
 Grim danger was always as red wine to her. 
 
 " A brave thought, dame ! " she cried, and made 
 haste to act upon the words. 
 
 Sheltered for the time by the hut the men with 
 mad haste flung aside the loose bricks of drying 
 peat, scooping out a wide hollow. In that hollow 
 Grana crouched with her two servants, while the 
 man and woman heaped the bricks above them. 
 With the work barely completed, with the fugitives 
 no more than screened, they heard the clash of bits 
 and stirrups, and knew that the troop was close. 
 
 The man and woman hastened to greet the hated 
 foreigners with servile humility. 
 
 " Close quarters, lads ! " Grana muttered. " Pray 
 that the dogs tarry not for long ! I am hard put to 
 it to breathe ! " 
 
 " If a man might only sneeze ! " Red Donell 
 grumbled. 
 
 " Silent, for your life ! " Grana whispered. She 
 had heard the heavy tramp of feet around the 
 hut.
 
 HOW GRANA WON TO KILDOWNET 207 
 
 It seemed that the English were suspicious. 
 They peered closely within the tiny hut. 
 
 They scanned the peat stack. One of them even 
 thrust his blade within it. The point drove through 
 Red Donell's sleeve, grazing his thick hide. The 
 hidden three cowered close, with all hope almost 
 gone. They could hear the gasping breaths of the 
 man and woman who had given them shelter. 
 
 But after what seemed an eternity the troopers 
 turned away. They called for ale, and cursed vilely 
 because it was not forthcoming. Then one kissed 
 the woman and another cuffed the man, and the 
 little troop got to saddle. 
 
 Grana, leaving her shelter with reckless haste, 
 gazed after them and shook her long clenched hand. 
 
 " These English, these English ! " she muttered. 
 " My score against them grows, it grows ! " 
 
 " Death was near us, lady," Bryan Teige said 
 almost soberly. 
 
 " Aye, near enough ! " Grana answered drearily. 
 " I have it in my heart to wish that it had come 
 nearer, save for my son and my hope of vengeance." 
 
 For now the exhilaration of danger had left her, 
 and its place was taken by a black reaction. She 
 was thinking of the man who she believed had 
 died at Casheling. 
 
 Once again they must lie close through the day, 
 and it was late night when they made Kildownet. 
 Good watch was kept, it seemed. At sound of their 
 dragging footsteps they were hailed, and bidden 
 with an oath to keep their distance, if they had not 
 the word. And the order was reinforced with the 
 click of triggers.
 
 208 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " We have not the word, fools ! " Bryan Teige 
 roared in answer. " It is the Lady Grana and her 
 servants ! Open with speed ! " 
 
 " Thank God, Kildownet is safe ! " Grana mut- 
 tered, and it was as though a dragging load were 
 lifted from her shoulders. For if Kildownet was 
 safe, then all was well with Tibot. . . . 
 
 But when the drawbridge had crashed down, 
 when wearily she had passed across with her jaded 
 watch-dogs at her heels, when she stood within the 
 courtyard in the nickering torchlight, a swift fore- 
 boding gripped and chilled her heart. For the little 
 garrison stood with hanging heads, and no man of 
 them would meet her eyes. 
 
 For once Grana spoke with timidity. 
 
 " What what has chanced ? Is all well with 
 my son the little lord ? " 
 
 But no man answered her. 
 
 And under their silence Grana winced like a man 
 upon the rack. 
 
 " Speak, speak ! " she cried hoarsely. " What of 
 my son ? Dumb fools, will ye drive me mad ? " 
 
 But still that fearful silence held. 
 
 " Where is Murtagh ? " Grana cried. " Where is 
 Murtagh in whose charge I left my son ? " 
 
 The group of cowering men opened, and slowly, 
 unwillingly Murtagh cringed towards his lady. 
 Scarcely could Grana recognise the lad. She had 
 left him an ugly, honest-faced boy. Now his face 
 had aged ten years, and it was sharp and haggard 
 with utter fear, and stamped with a grief that was 
 stronger than the fear. 
 
 He dropped upon his knees before Grana. Twice
 
 HOW GRANA WON TO KILDOWNET 209 
 
 he tried to speak, and twice his dry lips worked in 
 vain. Then at last with hanging head he muttered 
 very low : 
 
 " The English the English have taken the little 
 lord ! " 
 
 Grana flung up her hands. 
 
 " No, no ! " she cried shrilly, wildly. " You jest 
 cruelly, boy ! It is not true ! " 
 
 In that moment they did not know the voice or 
 the face of their lady, the rough men who had 
 followed her in war. It was the cry of a broken- 
 hearted mother that they heard. 
 
 " It is true," Murtagh whimpered. 
 
 For what seemed a long space Grana stood without 
 speech. And then the agony of her face changed to 
 a wan, cruel calm. 
 
 " And you still live to tell me this ? " she said 
 slowly. " You to whom I trusted my son ? " 
 
 With a whining moan Murtagh sank his face upon 
 the stones, weeping and muttering vain words. 
 
 Grana spurned him with her foot, and glanced 
 around. 
 
 " Tell me more of this ! " she said grimly. " If 
 there be one here whose wits are yet uncrazed ! " 
 
 An older man stood forward, and spoke with 
 lowered eyes like a man who has rehearsed a hateful 
 tale. 
 
 " The English surprised us, lady. They marched 
 through the night, and lay hid among the hills, 
 biding their time. We had no warning, none ! It 
 was hot sunshine, and Murtagh was abroad beyond 
 the moat with the the little lord. They launched 
 their horse upon us, counting on a surprise. By a
 
 210 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 very little they were foiled. Had we not raised the 
 bridge the castle had surely fallen. They drew off 
 swiftly, to our surprise. Almost, God forgive us, 
 we had forgotten the little lord. And then we 
 found Murtagh knocked senseless. And the child 
 was in their hands ! . . ." 
 
 Grana said nothing. Her face was frozen and 
 colourless. The man paused, and then quavered on. 
 
 " They attacked at night, but we we made good 
 against them. They marched away at dawn, finding 
 the castle too strong 
 
 And then Grana's icy voice cut in upon his words. 
 
 " They had that in their hands which was of 
 greater worth than this Kildownet and the lives of 
 a hundred such as you ! You have failed me, you 
 to whom I trusted all that I had. I could not save 
 my lord, and now, thanks to your base cowardice, 
 I have lost my son. I am alone, and it seems that 
 my strength is broken, but still may I punish 
 treachery ! These two, with whom I have returned, 
 whose faith I have tested to the death, will slay you 
 like the sheep ye are, if I but lift my hand ! Do ye 
 doubt it, curs and traitors ? " 
 
 They did not doubt it. Bryan Teige and Red 
 Donell, shoulder to shoulder, were a match for 
 more than half a score. The little garrison did not 
 lack courage, but now, heartbroken as they were, 
 they had no lust for fight. They gave back like 
 whipped dogs as the famous pair stepped forward 
 with bright eyes. 
 
 And Grana laughed cruelly. 
 
 " Nay, I give you the lives you prize so highly. 
 You shall live on I yet have use for scullions to
 
 HOW GRANA WON TO KILDOWNET 211 
 
 sweep out my halls ! All save this cur, who has 
 dared to face me after he has lost my son. Take 
 him away ! He shall hang like a dog at the dawn, 
 and I myself will watch him die ! " 
 
 They dragged the grovelling boy to his feet. 
 Grana watched their slavish haste, and once again 
 she spoke with savage scorn. 
 
 "If you had been men, you had sallied from these 
 safe walls when my boy was taken ! You would 
 not have lived to tell me this brave tale ! But such 
 talk is idle since you are what you are ! " 
 
 Bryan Teige stood and watched her pass within 
 the castle. 
 
 " I do not envy those heroes the breath they 
 draw ! " he muttered. " Our lady is right. A man 
 can set too high a worth upon his dirty life ! "
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 HOW MOTHER SPOKE WITH MOTHER 
 
 GRANA was alone in her own chamber. It 
 seemed to her that now always she must 
 be alone for all that was left to her of life. 
 And the thought of that chill loneliness pierced her 
 like a sword. 
 
 She was pacing up and down untiringly in the 
 wide gracious chamber with its silver lamps, its 
 chairs and tables of dark, fragrant wood, and its 
 rich coloured tapestries. That chamber suggested 
 Spanish luxury and civilisation. As a simple fact, 
 its plenishings had been niched from the cabins of 
 many Spanish ships. Not for nothing had Grana 
 been bred in a nest of piracy. 
 
 She looked tall and slender in her stained, tattered 
 gown against the rich reds and golds and purples of 
 the hangings which hid and warmed the walls of 
 stone. Her blue-black hair was loose upon her 
 shoulders. Her face seemed entirely colourless. 
 Against its pallor her grey tragic eyes, unnaturally 
 large, were like dark pools amid the hills on which 
 the sun has never gleamed. 
 
 She was seeing pictures, pictures, pictures and 
 they wrung her heart. She saw nothing of the room
 
 HOW MOTHER SPOKE WITH MOTHER 213 
 
 in which she paced. Even when she paused mechani- 
 cally at the casement she was unconscious of the 
 misty crescent moon which peered from wind-flung 
 clouds. It was Tibot whom she saw in those piteous 
 pictures Tibot at play in the sunshine, Tibot 
 falling and then staggering towards her, striving to 
 smile, resolute not to cry. (" He was always so 
 brave," she thought. " He must have done great 
 deeds, if he had lived.") Tibot demanding his 
 father's sword. Many, many pictures, and in most 
 of them was Domhnall, his harsh, dark face oddly 
 tender, as he looked upon his boy. There seemed 
 to be sunshine in all those pictures. She herself 
 was as one who watched bright things from the dark 
 shadows. 
 
 And as she paced she tortured herself, as only 
 mothers can, with self-accusations, with the thought 
 that she had failed in her love for the child. " I 
 should not have left him. I should have known 
 that only my love and care could shield him. If I 
 had stayed with him I had not lost him. . . . And 
 yet there was my lord ! How could I leave him 
 to die without an effort ? Now I have lost them 
 both. Oh ! God is cruel if there be a God ! . . ." 
 
 There followed the thought of Tibot among 
 brutal strangers, at the mercy of rough troopers, if 
 he yet lived. They would laugh at him, mock him, 
 strike him, maybe. The child would not under- 
 stand. Always he had been a little prince among 
 adoring subjects. And now almost she wished 
 that he might be dead.' And then she hated herself 
 for the thought. And then the torturing round 
 began once more.
 
 214 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Tibot wet and cold and hungry, Tibot with none 
 to care for him or comfort him, Tibot asking first 
 imperiously, then piteously with tears for her 
 
 There came a timid tap upon the door. Grana 
 faced it, with eyes that hardened. 
 
 " What now ? I bade no one come " 
 
 Bryan Teige came slowly, almost fearfully, into 
 the chamber. For a moment Grana's glance was 
 baleful, and then it softened. 
 
 " You, Bryan ? Better you than any other. 
 But what seek you ? At the least, there is no more 
 evil news that you can bring ! The gods have 
 loosed all their flaming bolts upon my head ! " 
 
 " No news, lady," Bryan Teige said gently. " I 
 did but think if only there were aught that I 
 might do ! " 
 
 " Aye, if only there were ! " Grana said passion- 
 ately. She moved swiftly to the gaunt giant and 
 touched his shoulder with her hand. " If aught 
 could be done, you would do it for me, Bryan, 
 would you not ? If the risking of your life, if the 
 giving of your body to torture, if any such brave 
 trifle could bring me comfort, I know well that you 
 would not grudge it"! " 
 
 There came a gleam almost of happiness to Bryan 
 Teige's deep-set, sombre eyes. 
 
 " It is good that you should know that, my lady. 
 I have no ease of speech in such matters, but if 
 my heart has warmth for any in this sorry world it 
 is for you." 
 
 " I know, Bryan, I know," Grana said. " The 
 sunshine has little gold for such as you. And now 
 we are close together, you and I. Ah, but, Bryan,
 
 HOW MOTHER SPOKE WITH MOTHER 215 
 
 Bryan, must we bide idly here ? Is there naught 
 to be done ? " 
 
 " I have racked my poor brains," Bryan Teige 
 said sadly. " But I see no way. The English are 
 too strong." 
 
 " Could we not gather men, and try one blow, at 
 least ? " 
 
 Bryan Teige laughed drearily. 
 
 " Connaught is like a beaten dog that must 
 crouch and lick its wounds. The land is drained of 
 its strength for a while at least. You did not spare 
 men, my lady, when you strove to rescue the 
 O' Flaherty. He himself had led our best to war, 
 and the English can tell how well they died. 
 Now " 
 
 " There should be yet a few who would follow 
 me ! " 
 
 Bryan Teige spoke with grim decision. 
 
 " My lady, if you go out against the English now 
 you go with two fighters at your back ! The 
 handful in Kildownet, poor things at best, must 
 bide to hold the castle. There remain Red Donell 
 and myself. There are worse lads with an axe than 
 yon bull-headed churl, and men have spoken well 
 of my poor sword play, but " 
 
 Grana seldom failed in sanity. 
 
 " Aye, it would be madness. Well I knew it from 
 the first, but but it crazes me to bide here and 
 
 think and think ! I pray you leave me now, 
 
 Bryan. I am not ungrateful, but I would be 
 alone." 
 
 Bryan Teige bent his head, and left the chamber. 
 As the door closed upon him Grana heard a faint
 
 216 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 scuffle in the corridor, and then a woman's voice 
 high and shrill. 
 
 " Nay, I will see the Dark Lady ! I must have 
 speech with her ! You shall not stay me, drunken 
 fool that you are " 
 
 " Then have your way, dame ! " grumbled Bryan's 
 voice, and a woman, with her gown awry, broke 
 through the doorway and threw herself at Grana's 
 feet. 
 
 She was no more than fifty, but prematurely 
 aged and wrinkled as is the way with Irish women 
 of the peasant class. Her face was tortured with a 
 tearless anguish, and she grovelled before the Dark 
 Lady with twisting hands. 
 
 " Who are you, dame ? What is your will of 
 me ? " Grana asked not ungently. 
 
 The woman looked up with terror in her eyes. 
 To all her servants Grana loomed as a splendid but 
 terrible creature of omnipotence. Often she was 
 gracious, very often she could be pitiful, but her 
 gusts of impatient anger were far famed. 
 
 " I seek mercy, lady," the woman muttered. " I 
 am Murtagh's mother." 
 
 Instantly Grana's face set like a stone. 
 
 " He must die. I have said it. Go, woman ! I 
 have naught to say to you ! " 
 
 But the love of Murtagh's mother was stronger 
 than her fear. 
 
 " Lady, you have not thought ! My boy loved 
 the little lord. He would have died to save him. 
 What might he do ? They were many, and they 
 struck him down ! " 
 
 " I trusted my son to him," Grana said coldly.
 
 HOW MOTHER SPOKE WITH MOTHER 217 
 
 " By his blundering I am bereft. He failed in his 
 trust, and he shall die." 
 
 " Lady, lady, how will it comfort your grief that 
 I too should be stricken ? " 
 
 " I hope for no comfort," Grana answered icily. 
 " This is but justice that I do. I have lost my son 
 through yours, and you also must suffer. If this 
 Murtagh had ten lives they would not pay ! Go ! 
 I have been too patient ! " 
 
 The woman rose to her feet. She held out her 
 gnarled hands in a simple gesture not ineloquent, 
 and spoke almost as an equal, as one heartbroken 
 woman may speak to another. 
 
 " My lady, I know what is in your heart, ah, I 
 know it well ! God and the gracious saints have 
 tried you sorely, sorely. They have taken from 
 you all that makes bright and glad this world. 
 First did you lose our lord, whom all men loved and 
 honoured, and then you returned through countless 
 perils to find to find our little princeling stolen 
 from you. With your heart all torn and empty it 
 was but natural that you should thirst for vengeance, 
 for something to wound as you were wounded. Ah, 
 my lady, I understand, and my heart is bleeding 
 for you ! " 
 
 Grana's face had lost its cruel calm. It worked 
 strangely, but she did not speak. 
 
 " We are both mothers, you and I, and so I dare 
 to speak. It will comfort you nothing to make 
 empty my heart as well. It will not dry your tears 
 in the long lonely nights to remember that I also 
 am weeping. My lady, Murtagh is as much to me 
 as is the little lord to you. He is all that I have "
 
 218 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Grana spoke suddenly. 
 
 " And I have nothing, now ! But I will not rob 
 you. I was mad, I knew not what I did. See, I 
 ask your forgiveness ! Murtagh shall live." 
 
 With broken words the woman threw herself 
 once more at Grana's feet, striving to kiss her 
 hands. She was weeping for utter thankfulness, but 
 Grana had no tears. 
 
 " Ah, my lady, Mother Mary reward you ! She 
 understands, for she too lost her Son. May she 
 comfort you, even yet even yet " 
 
 " I do not think that even she may comfort me," 
 Grana said very quietly. " But I am glad, yes, I 
 am glad that you have turned my heart. I had 
 forgotten that Tibot loved your son. ... I would 
 have you leave me now, good woman. They will 
 give you back your boy." 
 
 The woman crept away, awed by the Dark Lady's 
 quiet voice and face. But at the door she turned. 
 
 " Suffer me to say one more little word, my lady. 
 You have let me plead, and in your great pity you 
 have granted my prayer. They say that the little 
 lord is in the hands of this Englishman whom they 
 call Essex. My lady, my lady, I think that if you 
 went to him and pleaded for your son, no man in all 
 the world, hard-hearted though these cold English 
 be, would say you nay ! " 
 
 Grana started, and then seemed to check herself. 
 She stood for a space as if in thought. When she 
 spoke it was as to herself. 
 
 " I have never pleaded to any man. Even for 
 Domhnall's life I did not think to plead. God 
 forgive my paltry pride, if thereby I might have
 
 HOW MOTHER SPOKE WITH MOTHER 219 
 
 saved him. . . . And for Tibot, for Tibot there is 
 no abasement to which I would not stoop. ..." 
 
 She looked up at Murtagh's mother. 
 
 " I thank you, good friend," she said gently. 
 " You have given me one little crumb of hope. 
 To-morrow I will go seek this Essex."
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 HOW AN ODD PRISONER WAS BROUGHT TO 
 MY LORD ESSEX 
 
 MY Lord Essex was frowning heavily above 
 his despatches. 
 " The Queen is dissatisfied as ever," 
 he said petulantly. " 'Tis naught to her, it seems, 
 that I have humbled Connaught, since the north is 
 still aflame. My curse upon this pestilential wasps' 
 nest of an Ireland ! Woe worth the day that ever 
 sent me here to rot ! And her majesty she con- 
 ceives that her lieutenant should be ubiquitous. 
 Ah well ! none ever accused Gloriana of reason in 
 her demands ! What of the O'Flaherty ? " 
 
 " The villain is still uncaught, my lord," a captain 
 answered. " We have swept the hills as with a 
 broom, we have offered gold with lavishness, but 
 they are not to be bought with gold, these Irish 
 scum ! " 
 
 " His death would have been an example of 
 value," Essex muttered. " And yet I have it in 
 
 my heart almost to rejoice But was there not 
 
 report of another prisoner ? " 
 
 " Aye, my lord, the son of this O'Flaherty," the 
 captain answered. " Is it your pleasure to see the 
 child ? " 
 
 220
 
 ODD PRISONER FOR MY LORD ESSEX 221 
 
 " The child ? " Essex asked with surprise. " Do 
 we then war with children ? What talk is this ? " 
 
 " Captain Lennox came near to surprising Kil- 
 downet, my lord. The place is strong, and held 
 out, although but thinly garrisoned. But he has 
 brought back the only son of the O' Flaherty and his 
 wife Grana." 
 
 " Aye, Grana ! " Essex said. " I have heard talk 
 of her. Methinks she should be a lass of parts. But 
 this may be a hostage of value. What manner of 
 brat is it ? " 
 
 The captain chuckled. 
 
 " A little tiger cub, my lord ! He is not to be 
 subdued, even with blows. It is a sight to see him 
 scratch and strike out at all around him, if they do 
 not his bidding. He did weep and rage for a while, 
 when he found himself among strangers, but now 
 he seems to have gained a measure of content. 
 Sooth to say he has won all hearts, and makes but 
 fools of the common men. Each one of them would 
 be his nurse and playmate." 
 
 Essex smiled not unkindly. 
 
 " Bring me the child to see," he said. " I weary 
 for aught that is new." 
 
 Certainly there was novelty about the fashion in 
 which the prisoner entered the great tent. He came 
 riding upon the shoulder of a gigantic sergeant. 
 The man was somewhat red and flustered. " Faster, 
 faster ! " cried Tibot imperiously, and pulled 
 shrewdly at the fellow's hair. The sergeant did not 
 see his way to trotting into the presence of his 
 commander, but that was plainly the prisoner's 
 desire !
 
 222 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 At the spectacle Essex laughed uproariously, like 
 the boy he was. 
 
 " You may set him down, lad," he said pleasantly. 
 
 But that order did not fall in with Tibet's wishes. 
 " No, no ! Tibot go riding ! " he cried, and clung 
 in a painful fashion to the hair of his charger. 
 They unclasped his small fingers in the end, and 
 set him upon the ground, flushed and bright-eyed 
 with rage. He glared furiously up at Essex, a small 
 sturdy splendid boy of three, his hair a black mop of 
 ruffled curls, his face clean cut and stamped with 
 breed and pluck. 
 
 " What is your name, little one ? " Essex asked 
 from his great chair. Behind him were ranged his 
 grinning captains and gentlemen, enjoying the odd 
 scene. 
 
 The question further incensed Tibot. It dealt 
 surely with a fact that should be of general know- 
 ledge. But after a pause he condescended to 
 answer it. " Tibot ! " he said defiantly. 
 
 " And how do they treat you, Tibot ? " Essex 
 asked. 
 
 Tibot saw his chance of reprisal for recent annoy- 
 ance. He waved a small hand generally around him. 
 " Good mens ! " he said. And then he pointed an 
 accusing finger straight at Essex. " But you, bad 
 mans ! " he added. 
 
 There was laughter, and then Essex said gravely, 
 " You are no courtier, Tibot. Is there aught you 
 wish of me ? " 
 
 The prisoner seemed to reflect. 
 
 " Send Tibot home," he said at last, but not 
 apparently with any frenzied longing. He looked
 
 ODD PRISONER FOR MY LORD ESSEX 223 
 
 around for the sergeant. " Send him too," he 
 said. 
 
 " Faith, this lion's whelp would be after Gloriana's 
 heart ! " Essex muttered. " 'Twould be a new toy 
 for her laughter, when she had hung it round with 
 gems ! " 
 
 He spoke aloud with courteous gravity. 
 
 " Not yet may I spare to send you home, Tibot," 
 he said. " But have you no other boon to 
 ask ? " 
 
 The sense of the question was familiar to Tibot. 
 Through all his short life, even through his ex- 
 perience of captivity, he was accustomed to claim 
 and receive new toys from all the world. 
 
 He softened distinctly towards Essex, regarding 
 him with more tolerant eyes. And at something 
 which he saw his small jewel of a face lit up. 
 
 " Swords, swords ! " he cried, and ran forward 
 fearlessly to hurl himself upon Essex's knees, and 
 clutch at the gemmed hilt of his sword. 
 
 Essex flushed slightly with a boy's self-conscious- 
 ness. He would not have his captain think him 
 womanly. But there was a defiant charm about 
 Tibot not to be denied. Essex loosed his sword 
 belt, and Tibot settled himself comfortably upon 
 the young earl's knee, superbly at his ease, clutching 
 to his bosom the rich sword. 
 
 " Mine, mine ! Tibot's own ? " he demanded. 
 
 Essex laughed and put his arm about the boy. 
 
 " Why, 'twas given to me by a prince of France ! " 
 he said. 
 
 An officer entered with a whispered message. 
 
 " Aye, I will see him," Essex said, and then,
 
 224 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " Hark ye, Tibot, it is in my mind to send you to 
 London town to speak with a great queen ! " 
 
 The prospect seemed to hold no terrors for Tibot, 
 and but little interest. 
 
 " Sword's mine ? " he repeated. 
 
 " Aye, if naught else will content yon," Essex 
 said, and put him gently upon the ground. Tibot 
 seemed to meditate a roar of anger, but was appeased 
 by the approach of the sergeant in obedience to 
 Essex's gesture. 
 
 " Take him and see that he lacks naught of kind- 
 ness," the earl ordered, and then he added with a 
 smile, " But I have no fears for him ! " 
 
 The prisoner left the tent with state, riding high 
 upon the tall sergeant's shoulder, and bearing the 
 jewelled sword like spoils of war. Essex watched 
 him go with whimsical eyes, and then turning spoke 
 to a captain. 
 
 " The ' Rose ' is sailing this night for London 
 with despatches. The child shall sail in her with my 
 letters for the Queen. It may be that he will tickle 
 her fancy. At the least, while we hold such a hostage 
 his parents should give little trouble. See that he be 
 cared for well. Send with him that lanky sergeant, 
 if no decent woman can be found as nurse. And 
 now I will see Captain Harker." 
 
 Two days later Essex, yawning over the business 
 of routine which irked his soul, glanced up with 
 relief at the promise of diversion. There appeared 
 to be a scuffle at the door of the great tent. 
 
 " What do they yonder ? " he asked. " It would 
 seem that the sentry is blaspheming freely. See 
 to it, I pray."
 
 ODD PRISONER FOR MY LORD ESSEX 225 
 
 A gentleman hurried out, to return with a puzzled 
 face. 
 
 " There is a woman, a lady, who would have 
 speech with you, my lord," he began. 
 
 " A lady ! " Essex cried. " Gods, why do they 
 make hindrance and delay ? Has Essex ever been 
 accused of unwillingness for speech with any 
 woman ? My tongue aches for such speech in these 
 rude wastes ! Bring her to me forthwith ! " 
 
 " She has two rogues with her, two ragged villains 
 of most ugly seeming ! " the gentleman explained. 
 " They are armed, they hang at her heels like 
 hounds, and she will not be parted from them. She 
 says stoutly that she will come before you with her 
 servants at her back. One of them, a long-armed 
 scoundrel in fool's dress, did deal a most shrewd 
 buffet to a sergeant who would have stayed him ! " 
 
 " What like is this lady ? " Essex asked. 
 
 " Indeed, she is tall and stately and of a beauty 
 almost royal, my lord. I had not known there were 
 such ladies bred in Ireland. But the message she 
 sent you it smacks of insolence ! " 
 
 " Let me hear it, and be swift ! " Essex said 
 sharply. 
 
 " ' Tell the Lord Essex,' " she said, " ' that 
 Grana O'Flaherty, she who was Grana O'Malley, 
 would have speech with him, and that she conies 
 to him in peace, trusting to his honour, if there be 
 English honour, for safe conduct/ Those were 
 her words, my lord." 
 
 The young earl's eyes had lit strangely. 
 
 " Grana O'Flaherty ! I have heard much of her. 
 So I am to have speech with this famed Grana at 
 Q
 
 226 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 last ! This message it sounds not unworthy of all 
 
 that I have heard ! Admit her with speed ! " 
 " And and the rogue servants, my lord ? " 
 " Let her come to me, this Grana, in her own 
 
 fashion ! " Essex said, and his eyes were avidly 
 
 expectant.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 MY LORD ESSEX IS SHAMED 
 
 ESSEX, seated in his carved chair, drew a 
 deep breath of sheer wonder as Grana 
 entered the great tent. He had seen many 
 fair women in his day, at the court in London his 
 eyes had been sated with the sight of faces varied 
 as the rich blossoms in a summer garden, but the 
 beauty of this woman, this Irish rebel, it held a 
 quality that struck straight at his heart. 
 
 She came forward, slowly, proudly, with her two 
 armed watch-dogs at her heels. They made a 
 strange, striking foil for her slim grace, the tall, 
 gaunt, fighting fool and the bull-shouldered giant 
 with his shock of dark red hair. They were a pair 
 to catch men's eyes, but Essex had no thought for 
 them. His gaze was for Grana 's face alone. 
 
 For all her pride, her sorrow clothed her like a 
 mantle. Her dark eyes held a voiceless, tragic woe. 
 She moved like a woman for whom the world is 
 empty. Her face was white beneath its golden sun- 
 burn. Her thin red lips were pale and set. Her 
 hands were clenched and her whole body was 
 braced for her ordeal. And yet and yet her beauty 
 was still royal and challenging. The fires through 
 which she had passed had lent it a new note, a new 
 227
 
 228 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 refinement. So she came Grana of Achill who 
 had done many things in her strange, vivid life, but 
 who had yet to plead for pity to any living man. 
 
 Essex rose from his chair and bent his head with 
 courtesy. Tall and handsome, he had the eyes and 
 bearing of a leader of men, despite the foppery of 
 his jewels and his rich dress. They had that quality 
 in common, he and the stately woman who stood 
 before him. It lifted them above the level of the 
 staring, curious gentlemen and officers who were 
 grouped behind his chair. Widely different as 
 they were, each had a certain quality of daring 
 greatness, that rebel Irishwoman and that English 
 lord. 
 
 " Will you not be seated ? " Essex asked 
 courteously. 
 
 " Nay, I thank you, I will stand," Grana answered. 
 In her voice there was a note of hate, proud hate, 
 which brought a fleck of colour to the Englishman's 
 cheek. After all, despite her tragic beauty, this 
 woman was but an Irish barbarian, and a rebel 
 against the queen, his mistress ! Too great a show 
 of courtesy would be misplaced. 
 
 " As you will," he said coolly, and took his own 
 seat once more. And now in his eyes was the look 
 of a victor who awaits a plea for mercy from the 
 conquered. And now it was Grana's turn to flush. 
 
 " You are Grana Grana of Achill ? " Essex 
 said. 
 
 " Aye, so they call me," Grana answered. " I 
 am Grana O' Flaherty, who was once Grana 
 O'Malley." 
 
 " I have heard much of you," Essex said. " For
 
 MY LORD ESSEX IS SHAMED 229 
 
 long have you been a rebel against England, a sore 
 thorn in the side of those who serve her." 
 
 " It is true," Grana said quietly. 
 
 " And now, do you come at last to make sub- 
 mission ? " Essex asked with a note of mockery. 
 " Indeed, it is fully time ! " 
 
 Grana's flush deepened, and she did not speak. 
 But Bryan Teige broke in with an angry snarl. 
 
 " Submission ! Little do you know my lady, 
 Englishman ! Little of courtesy have you to speak 
 to her in that fashion " 
 
 Essex rose to his feet, bright-eyed with anger. 
 
 " Be silent, dog ! God's wounds, Madam, it is 
 not in my mind to accept insolence from your 
 servants ! They shall be silent, or I will see to it 
 with speed ! " 
 
 Grana turned to the fool. 
 
 " You must say no more, Bryan," she said gently. 
 
 "It is for you to command, lady," Bryan Teige 
 grumbled. " And yet it irks sorely to stand here 
 and hearken " 
 
 " Not long shall you stand there, rogue, if you 
 may not control your tongue ! " Essex said grimly. 
 " You shall be flung from this tent, you and your 
 fellow rascal ! " 
 
 Red Donell laughed with the rumbling roar of a 
 bull. And his huge hands tightened upon the haft 
 of his great axe. 
 
 " This promises right gaily, Englishman ! " he 
 grunted. " But one little word of counsel in your 
 ear ! You will need more than two of your men 
 for such throwing, aye and more than four ! " 
 
 Grana spoke swiftly and with anger.
 
 230 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " Be silent, Donell, and you, Bryan ! " she cried. 
 " Will you shame and harm me with your brawl- 
 ing ? " 
 
 The two sank down their heads and slunk back 
 a pace. Grana turned to Essex. 
 
 " They shall offend no more, sir," she said. 
 
 " See to it that they do not, for their sake and 
 your own," he answered angrily. " And now 
 what seek you with me, Madam, if it be not to make 
 submission ? " 
 
 For a moment Grana stood in silence, and her 
 cheek lost its colour. Then she spoke as by an 
 effort of the will. 
 
 " In a sense I have come to make submission," 
 she said. " If you have chivalry, aye, pity, I would 
 appeal to it. But that appeal it is not easy. 
 Through all my life, since my father died, I have 
 dealt with men, sword in hand, and I have asked 
 pity of none. But now now you see me beaten 
 to my knees." 
 
 She broke off abruptly. It was as though the 
 words choked upon her lips. Not easily, not easily 
 might Grana of Achill plead, even for her little son. 
 In the great tent there was strained silence. She 
 held the eyes of all, this queenly woman with the 
 pale, proud, tragic face. Even in her abasement 
 and defeat she seemed to hold to her old pride. 
 Very curiously did Essex and his captains gaze 
 upon her. 
 
 " My husband was in arms against you," she said 
 at last. " I asked no pity when you took him 
 prisoner. He failed, and it was your right to deal 
 with him as you willed, to exact the uttermost
 
 MY LORD ESSEX IS SHAMED 231 
 
 penalty. And you had no mercy for a knightly 
 foe, for one who had fought you with clean hands. 
 You caused him to die, for an example, and God 
 forgive me, I made no plea ! " 
 
 There was a movement and murmur of surprise 
 from the group of officers. They realised that this 
 woman had no knowledge of her husband's escape, 
 that she believed him dead upon the scaffold. 
 Amazing as it might seem, that must be the meaning 
 of her words. Essex himself was ever quick of wit. 
 He heard her without a shade of wonder upon his 
 handsome face. And he half turned and made a 
 gesture for silence to those behind him. It was not 
 in his mind that Grana should be undeceived. 
 
 She was all unconscious of that faint stir. Her 
 eyes saw little in that moment of the actual scene 
 around her. They were looking upon other 
 scenes. 
 
 " So he died, my husband died," she said with 
 sombre steadiness. " I know not if a plea from me 
 might have saved him, but it was not spoken. Now 
 yet another blow has fallen upon me, and my pride 
 is crushed. My son is in your hands. And he is 
 all that I have." 
 
 Again she waited, and again that odd silence held. 
 Essex's eyes had scarcely left her face. They held 
 something of pity, something of admiration, some- 
 thing of desire. Long starved for beauty as he 
 was, she seemed to him the fairest woman in the 
 world. 
 
 Bryan Teige's grim eyes were upon the young 
 lord's face. And they smouldered as though he 
 read his thoughts. It was hell, sheer hell, to the
 
 232 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 gaunt fool to stand by in silence and hear his lady 
 plead for pity from these English dogs, but it was 
 a yet fiercer hell to note the lust that lit the eyes of 
 this gay sprig who held his lady's happiness in his 
 jewelled hands. 
 
 " I did not think that the English warred with 
 children," Grana said at last. " My boy is no 
 fighter, no gallant leader who can wring respect 
 even from his foes, who must die for a warning and 
 example. You have worked your will upon my 
 husband. I am here to pray that you will give me 
 back my son." 
 
 And then Essex spoke, with a certain gentleness. 
 
 " There is sooth in what you say, Madam," he 
 said. "It is not our English way to wage war 
 with children. And yet, since your son was taken, 
 he has value as a hostage. War is war, and often 
 enough, God knows, an ugly game. When I heard 
 of your boy's capture you had my sympathy, I say 
 it with all truth, and yet you yourself were still 
 at large. Men would gather round you, you have 
 ever been a nurse to all rebellion. And so in 
 my duty to my mistress, I held closely to that 
 hostage." 
 
 Grana bent her head in grave agreement. 
 
 " It may be that it was your duty. I do not 
 deny it. I have fought for long against you English 
 in my time I have held power. It may well be 
 that I have caused you trouble. But now, all my 
 power is broken. You see me crushed at last. 
 I am here to give to give all pledges for my for 
 my peaceful bearing, if you will but restore to me 
 my son."
 
 MY LORD ESSEX IS SHAMED 233 
 
 The last words were bitter upon her lips, bitter 
 as gall. They spelt an ending to all old fiery hopes 
 and high ambitions. But she forced herself to 
 speak them. Tibot was more to her, far more, 
 than pride and power, more even than her loved, 
 wild country, and the wild men it bred. And there 
 was hope in her heart at last, after long days of 
 torment. Essex's face had softened. She believed 
 that she had awoken pity in his heart. There came 
 a flicker of brightness to her eyes. 
 
 But that flicker died with piteous speed. 
 
 " I am grieved, Madam, in simple truth I am 
 grieved," Essex said gravely. " But what you ask 
 is impossible. Your boy is on shipboard. Two 
 days agone I despatched him to England." 
 
 Under their gaze Grana's face seemed to grow 
 old. 
 
 " To England ? " she gasped. 
 
 " Aye, to the court in London, to be a pledge for 
 your good conduct. But indeed there is no need 
 for utter grief. The boy will be well treated. Of a 
 truth, as I have seen for myself, he wins all hearts ! " 
 
 But Grana was not heeding him. Despair, cold 
 dreary despair, had gripped her. London, to her 
 and her like, was a shadowy place, terribly far off, 
 peopled by all - powerful, pitiless people. And 
 above all, far off, far off ! 
 
 " You have sent him to the Queen ? " she mut- 
 tered. 
 
 " Aye, to Her Majesty. Do not grieve, Madam, 
 Gloriana is not cruel to children. It is only for 
 grown folks that she bares her darts ! " 
 
 Grana swayed upon her feet, her face grey and
 
 234 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 pinched. She felt Bryan Teige's hand upon her 
 shoulder, and called upon her strength 
 
 " Then there is no more to say," she said very 
 low. " But the child he was in health, he did not 
 suffer ? " 
 
 Essex laughed gently. 
 
 " As gay and sturdy a small rogue as ever I have 
 seen ! " he answered. " We are not monsters, 
 Madam ! For myself, the lad robbed me of my 
 sword ! There is none living who would be cruel 
 to him, I well believe." 
 
 " That may be," Grana muttered. " But it is 
 far, far to London ! And I may not bear to think 
 I will leave you, sir, if I may. I have to thank 
 you for your courtesy." 
 
 She turned to leave the tent, walking somewhat 
 blindly, but Essex spoke swiftly. At thought of 
 her departure his mood had changed. The pity 
 and the gentleness had left his eyes. They held a 
 light of greed. 
 
 " Nay, there is something that I would say to 
 you, lady," he said. " Something of import that 
 you must hear. But it is for your ears alone. I 
 pray you bid your servants to bide without." 
 
 He motioned to his officers and gentlemen, and 
 they passed swiftly from the tent. If they had their 
 thoughts, their faces at least were schooled to 
 prudent blankness. Their nudges, their chuckles 
 and their uncleanly speculations might be indulged 
 with safety in the open air. 
 
 Grana watched them go. Her brain felt oddly 
 dull and heavy. What mattered aught, since all 
 her world was robbed of brightness ? She had no
 
 MY LORD ESSEX IS SHAMED 235 
 
 curiosity concerning what this handsome English- 
 man might have to say. But she owed him a 
 certain courtesy. The sooner all weary speech 
 were over, the sooner she might plan and consider 
 for what must be done. Already a shadowy plan 
 was forming in her mind. The " Red Horse," 
 
 the " Red Horse " was still her own She 
 
 nodded to Bryan Teige and Red Donell to leave the 
 tent. 
 
 But the order was little to their liking. 
 
 " Lady, bethink you, is it prudent that we should 
 go ? " Bryan whispered. " I have no trust in the 
 honour of this dog ! " 
 
 And Red Donell, slower of thought and speech, 
 grunted his full assent. 
 
 " I am waiting, Madam, for speech with you 
 alone," Essex said smoothly. 
 
 Grana turned impatiently to her servants. 
 
 " Go ! " she said imperiously. " No words ! I 
 bid you leave me ! " 
 
 And the two obeyed with sullenness. 
 
 Grana, yet upon her feet, confronted Essex, 
 alone in the great tent. He did not speak, and for 
 a moment it was as though she had forgotten him. 
 He was little enough to her, this handsome, brilliant 
 boy, and, God knows, her mind was full enough 
 with other thoughts. And then a movement from 
 him recalled her to where she stood. He had risen 
 to his feet, and was indicating his own great chair 
 with a courteous gesture. 
 
 " Be seated now, Madam," he said persuasively. 
 " So may we speak together in a more kindly 
 fashion, as I would wish."
 
 236 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 She shook her head, and her lips tightened. She 
 had no fear of any man, she was as fearless as any 
 woman may be, but something in this man's eyes 
 gave her foreboding. Why had he dismissed his 
 gentlemen ? Why were not Bryan and Red Donell 
 at her back ? 
 
 " I will stand," she said coldly. " We can have 
 little to say, you and I." 
 
 " Nay, but I think we have much," Essex an- 
 swered, and he smiled. 
 
 " What is there to be said ? " Grana asked, and 
 her dark eyes met his proudly, without fear. 
 
 He bowed. 
 
 " Since you will not sit, I may not, fair lady. 
 But that is at your pleasure. I would have you 
 know that it is in my power and in my heart to 
 serve you. True, I have sent your son to England, 
 but I may yet restore him. I am not without a 
 name at court, although for a little while my star 
 has drooped. Any day Gloriana may recall me. 
 Any day it may seem good to me to return without 
 recall. And then it would be but a little matter 
 to send back your boy to his mother's warm 
 arms ! " 
 
 Grana nodded. But that foreboding was grow- 
 ing in her heart. There seemed to be evil, grim, 
 threatening evil, in the very air of that great silent 
 tent. She had no trust in this man with the hand- 
 some, boyish face and reckless eyes. And yet 
 what he said might be true. It might be his wish, 
 as it was perhaps in his power, to give back to her 
 her son. 
 
 " I am not ungrateful," she said in a low voice.
 
 MY LORD ESSEX IS SHAMED 237 
 
 " But why why is it in your heart this gentle 
 wish to serve me ? " 
 
 Essex smiled. 
 
 " I am no brute beast, sweet lady," he said 
 smoothly. " If I wage war, if I strike with a heavy 
 hand, it is because I must. But for you and your 
 little son my hand would be right gentle. So much 
 for my humanity ! For the rest do you ask why 
 I would serve you ? " 
 
 " Aye, I do ask it," she said steadily. " We are 
 foes, old foes, by right of birth. There is hate 
 between the lands that bred us. And there is a 
 yet heavier reason for little gentleness betwixt you 
 and me." 
 
 He moved a pace towards her. 
 
 " I would have you forget such reasons, my fair 
 lady," he said, and his voice had thickened and his 
 eyes were brutal. " I I have forgotten all things 
 in the world save that I am alone with the loveliest 
 lady in the world ! " 
 
 His hands went out towards her, but she sprang 
 back, lightly, swiftly as a wild creature springs. 
 
 " You you would dare to speak so to me ! " 
 she cried. " You would have me forget that between 
 us is my husband's blood ! " 
 
 He laughed loudly and wildly, like a man 
 drunken. 
 
 "He is dead, your husband, is he not ? Well, 
 life is cheap, God knows, in Ireland ! The world 
 is to the living, Grana ! Come to me, and I will 
 teach you forgetfulness ! Is it sons you lack, my 
 dark lady ? " 
 
 The brute words died. She struck him upon the
 
 238 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 face, a blow that rang through the quiet tent. 
 At the blow a devil woke in his eyes, and his 
 mouth set pitilessly. The times were rough and 
 ruthless. But as he sprang towards her she slipped 
 aside, and drew from her bosom a little gleaming 
 blade. 
 
 " You die or I, if you set hand upon me ! " she 
 gasped. 
 
 The threat stayed him, rigid, with passion-filled 
 eyes. She spoke more coolly. 
 
 " I have dealt with such as you ere now ! Do you 
 think I fear ? Do you think death means aught to 
 me ? " 
 
 He stood like a wild beast foiled 
 
 " Indeed, lady, you are over-tragic," he muttered. 
 " I would have been gentle had you not struck 
 me " 
 
 " Gentle ! " Grana cried, and she laughed with 
 bitter scorn. "It is for such gentleness as yours 
 that men are rightly shamed ! You wear the gold 
 spurs of knighthood on your heels. Indeed, you 
 do them honour ! English knight, English gentle- 
 man, to whose chivalry I trusted and made appeal, 
 call in your servants and make an end of this ! 
 While I have the power to die I am beyond your 
 power." 
 
 Essex's face flushed with something like genuine 
 shame. Her words and her open scorn had stung 
 him. He was not without nobility, he had ever 
 generous instincts. He could still loathe himself 
 when passion had tossed him low. 
 
 " Your words shame me, Madam," he muttered. 
 " I will admit that I was grossly at fault. . . .
 
 MY LORD ESSEX IS SHAMED 239 
 
 For the rest, I scarce know my duty. I should 
 make you prisoner." 
 
 " Aye, though I trusted to your honour when I 
 came ! " Grana gibed. " Indeed, the path of honour 
 is clear before your feet, my lord ! " 
 
 "It is my duty," Essex said steadily, with a 
 certain dignity. " That you came of your free will 
 is nothing. You are my prisoner by all the rules 
 of war. But I may not hold you. I am shamed 
 enough." 
 
 He wrote hastily upon a scrap of paper. 
 
 " Here is your quittance from the camp for you 
 and your servants," he said. " If there has been 
 battle between us, it is not I who have conquered. 
 Go, Madam, of your gentleness ! " 
 
 He put the paper in her hands and turned away. 
 Grana left the tent without another word. 
 
 She found her men, surrounded by a curious 
 crowd of soldiers. In a wide circle they stood and 
 gazed half mockingly, half respectfully at the ragged 
 pair whose fighting fame had drifted far. They 
 were the two, it was well known, who had headed 
 Grana's desperate charge upon the English camp, 
 who had made possible her retreat. And a full 
 score of feats of equal daring were credited to them. 
 Beside their camp fires the English soldiers had 
 gossiped of that long-armed swordsman and of that 
 giant who ever wielded a mighty axe. Now they 
 saw them at close quarters, and they gazed their 
 fill. Bryan Teige and Red Donell bore the scrutiny 
 with little grace, their eyes flickering old hate, 
 their grip twitching upon hilt and haft. 
 
 Grana called them to her, and they shouldered
 
 240 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 roughly through the crowd. There had been trouble, 
 but for the swift intervention of an officer. Grana 
 showed him her quittance, and the three took horse 
 and rode slowly from the English camp. 
 
 For a full hour Grana rode in silence with bowed 
 head and knitted brows. Then at last she lifted 
 her eyes and Bryan Teige ventured a question. 
 
 " What is it in your mind to do, lady ? " he asked. 
 
 " Why, we go upon a voyage, Bryan," Grana 
 answered almost cheerfully. " This far-off London 
 holds all that makes life bright for me. So we sail 
 for London, to beg clemency of the great Queen."
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 HOW DOMHNALL LOOKED UPON AN 
 EMPTY SEA 
 
 DOMHNALL O'FLAHERTY stirred feebly 
 and looked about him. For days he had 
 raved in fever, and again for days he had 
 lain in stupor like a man near to death. But now 
 his eyes held sanity once more. 
 
 He was lying in a dim-lit cave among the hills 
 upon a rude couch of dry, tumbled grass. His lean 
 body and his grim, harsh face were worn and 
 wasted. His arms felt as though never again could 
 they wield sword. 
 
 " Where am I ? " he muttered. " Phelim is 
 that Phelim ? " 
 
 A man moved from a corner and knelt beside him. 
 He was ragged, and his unwashed, unshaven face 
 held little of refinement. But the faith, the steady 
 faith and courage in his eyes, redeemed all faults. 
 They were joyful now, since the 0' Flaherty no 
 longer raved in mad delirium. 
 
 " You are with friends, lord," he said. " All is 
 well. But Phelim 
 
 " What of Phelim ? " Domhnall muttered sharply. 
 " I remember now. I was upon the scaffold, and 
 Phelim he led a rush to save me. I had given up 
 R 241
 
 242 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 all thought of life. But afterwards I can remember 
 nothing ! " 
 
 " You were wounded, lord," the man said un- 
 willingly. " Phelim also was wounded, but he bade 
 the people pass you above their heads. There were 
 horses in waiting, and Phelim took you before him, 
 and out-distanced the English dogs. Since then 
 you have lain in fever " 
 
 He was speaking more glibly, hoping that the 
 question of Phelim might be shelved until Domh- 
 nall's strength returned. But Domhnall was not to 
 be denied. 
 
 " And where is Phelim now ? " he demanded. 
 " Well I know that he would be with me " 
 
 The ragged man's voice as he answered was 
 pitifully imploring. 
 
 " Lord, you are but weak yet. Will you not be 
 waiting awhile before you ask of Phelim ? " 
 
 " I can guess," Domhnall said painfully. " But 
 I would hear all now." 
 
 And then the ragged man told him all how 
 Phelim, dying in saddle, had held his lord before 
 him until his strength was wholly drained, and then, 
 with the pursuit hot upon him, had at last sur- 
 rendered his senseless burden, and reeled down to 
 the ground. He told how the squire, with death's 
 hand heavy upon him, had thought only of his 
 master, had bidden the others ride on and save their 
 lord. He told how perforce they had left the 
 dwarfish squire to die. 
 
 And as Domhnall listened his harsh face 
 worked. 
 
 " That was like Phelim," he said very quietly,
 
 DOMHNALL LOOKED ON AN EMPTY SEA 243 
 
 and then he turned his face to the cave wall and lay 
 without speaking for a while. 
 
 When he spoke at last it was of his wife. 
 
 " What of the Lady Grana have you word of 
 her ? " he asked. 
 
 The man shook his head. 
 
 " There have been too many of the English dogs 
 in the hills," he answered. " They have been greedy 
 for your capture, lord, and the search has been hot. 
 We have heard naught of the Lady Grana, and we 
 have been able to get no word through to her. Our 
 hands have been over full for messages." 
 
 " Aye, that I can believe," Domhnall muttered. 
 " But Grana she will believe me dead, or if she 
 has heard of my escape she will be in torture, know- 
 ing not if I am yet living. I must win to her with 
 speed." 
 
 Another man came forward with a mess of broth, 
 and Domhnall drained it gratefully, and felt new 
 life creep through his veins. 
 
 " My strength will soon be mine once more," he 
 said, and raised himself upon his elbow. " Let me 
 see your faces, my friends," he said. " You have 
 served me royally, and I would give you my warmest 
 thanks." 
 
 Four men came forward, slowly, and half-shyly, 
 and knelt beside his couch. They were brothers, and 
 their names shall not be given here. They are still 
 remembered among the Connaught hills, three of 
 them with pride and love, and the fourth with scorn 
 and loathing. For sake of the honest three it seems 
 well that all should be forgotten. So, maybe, they 
 would have wished.
 
 244 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " You have saved my life, lads, at bitter risk," 
 Domhnall said. " You have set your honour above 
 wealth. I doubt not that the English would have 
 paid highly for my betrayal." 
 
 The elder of the brothers laughed. 
 
 " Aye, lord, they offered a little dirty gold ! " he 
 said carelessly. 
 
 " But you kept faith," Domhnall said quietly. 
 " Though I lay senseless, and might have been sold 
 with ease, knowing naught of my betrayal, you kept 
 faith. I shall not forget, friends. And I think that 
 when you come to die you also will remember that 
 kept faith, and will not regret ! " 
 
 He held out his lean hand. 
 
 " Nay, do not kiss it ! " he said quickly. " It is 
 my honour to grip the hands of such as you." 
 
 In turn they shook his hand, and as they did so he 
 looked keenly into the face of each. All four seemed 
 moved by the O'Flaherty's words, and one of them, 
 the second brother, a lean man with a thin, hatchet 
 face, failed to meet his eyes. But Domhnall 
 O' Flaherty made nothing of that. He would as 
 soon have suspected himself of basest treachery, as 
 have cherished a breath of suspicion against one of 
 these four who had sheltered and fed and guarded 
 him through long-drawn peril. 
 
 " We are friends, lads," he said. " I say naught 
 of reward to such as you, and to-day I am but a 
 hunted fugitive. But there may come a day when 
 I can prove my friendship as you have proved it. 
 Meanwhile, I can but give you simple thanks." 
 
 " No need for thanks, lord," the eldest brother 
 said. " There is no man in all Connaught who would
 
 DOMHNALL LOOKED ON AN EMPTY SEA 245 
 
 not serve you, who would not scorn to sell you. If 
 there were such a vile traitor, I would kill him with 
 my hands, though he were my own brother ! " 
 
 And two of his brothers muttered their grim 
 agreement. The second did not speak. His eyes 
 were haggard and held a haunted look as he peered 
 around him among the shadows. 
 
 The eldest of the four spoke curtly to the youngest 
 brother. 
 
 " Go forth, lad, and see that you watch well." 
 
 When he had obeyed Domhnall spoke drowsily. 
 
 " In two days I shall be able to sit horse once 
 more. I must win through to my dear lady. She 
 will have feared sorely for me, she who fears naught 
 for herself. We will ride by night, and now, I 
 would sleep, lads ! " 
 
 He sank back, and his eyes closed heavily. Two 
 of the brothers lay down near to the entrance of the 
 cave. The second brother did not sleep. He sat, 
 peering about him with his haggard eyes, until the 
 snores were steady, until the shadows of evening had 
 fallen heavily. Then with slinking caution he 
 slipped from the cave. 
 
 It was two evenings later. Something of strength 
 had returned to Dornhnall's lean, hardy frame. He 
 sat in the cave making choice out of four plain 
 heavy blades, suiting them to his hand. His eyes 
 were brighter for the touch of steel once more. 
 Two of the brothers watched him with the eyes of 
 faithful dogs. Their swords, and all the little they 
 owned in the world, were at the O' Flaherty's 
 service. 
 
 The second brother entered, and sank down in a
 
 246 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 far corner with a muttered word. A while later the 
 eldest brother came at a run. There was sweat upon 
 his face and his eyes were wild and fierce. They 
 gleamed like a wolfs in the half-light of the cave. 
 
 " You are betrayed, lord ! " he gasped. " The 
 English know of this cave ! " His brothers leaped 
 to their feet with oaths and cries. Only Domhnall 
 kept his seat. His nerves were ever level. 
 
 " How know you ? " he asked coolly. 
 
 " I heard it with my own ears ! " the man said. 
 He turned upon his second brother, who had moved 
 towards the entrance. " Nay, do not leave the 
 cave ! " he said, and his voice was grim with 
 hate. 
 
 " What is this ? " Domhnall asked. 
 
 " It means it means that my mother bore a 
 traitor black as hell ! " the eldest brother cried. 
 " Look on that thing, my lord, and you, my 
 brothers, he has sold us all ! " 
 
 The truth of the charge was written upon the face 
 of the accused. For a moment he stood to meet 
 their gaze, white and quivering, and then he flung 
 himself face downwards upon the trodden earth. 
 
 " It is true ! " he babbled. " God has cursed me, 
 and I was mad. Kill me and make an end ! " 
 
 " Aye, have no fears or doubts, you shall die ! " 
 his brother said with cold fierceness, but Domhnall 
 raised his hand. 
 
 " A moment how pressing is the danger ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " We have three hours," the eldest brother said. 
 " Two hours before midnight they will be here. 
 They know that we were to ride at midnight. I had
 
 DOMHNALL LOOKED ON AN EMPTY SEA 247 
 
 gone forth to spy among the hills, and I sighted an 
 English sergeant, alone in a little valley, as though 
 he waited for one who would come. I hid among 
 the rocks and watched. And then he came, slinking 
 and creeping like the snake he is, this changeling 
 whom I once called brother ! " 
 
 His voice choked in his throat for rage and scorn. 
 The traitor still grovelled, babbling vain words. 
 The two younger brothers stood with working 
 hands, with eyes that held horror and shocked 
 shame. 
 
 " They spoke together, the Englishman and that 
 that thing ! They had met before, and and 
 haggled ! Now the Englishman would pay his 
 price, it seemed. His tool was to have his filthy 
 gold ! He told of the cave and of the hour when we 
 were to ride ! We were all to be taken, but he was 
 to be suffered later to escape. The sergeant is to 
 bring ten men no more. He would not tell his 
 officers, wishing to win all credit for himself." 
 
 " Ten men ? " Domhnall said coolly. 
 
 " Aye, it should be enough, lord. When they 
 parted, I followed the Englishman, thinking to 
 slay him and so end the matter. But he was met 
 by two mounted soldiers with a led horse. And I 
 judged it well to hasten hither with this tale of 
 vileness." 
 
 Domhnall sat for a little space with frowning 
 eyes. Then he spoke with his old cool decision. 
 
 " We will be gone when they come. Had I my 
 full strength it were a joy to await these English, 
 to snare them in their own trap. I do well believe 
 that, with the aid of a surprise, we might give them
 
 248 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 reason to regret their huckstering, we four against 
 their eleven ! But that may not be. The horses 
 they are in the hollow beyond the hill ? Good 
 we will win to them ere these English come. I 
 would only that these evenings were darker. Mean- 
 while, let one of us keep keen watch without." 
 
 The youngest brother hastened out to mount 
 guard. As he went he averted his eyes with loathing 
 from the grovelling traitor. 
 
 The eldest brother spoke with deadly grimness. 
 
 " That thing there, lord it must die and with 
 speed ! I pray you, turn your eyes away. It were 
 not fitting that they should watch the death of so 
 vile a rat ! " 
 
 The traitor gave a choking moan. Domhnall 
 glanced at the writhing figure. His eyes were 
 neither vengeful nor merciless. They held a 
 curiosity that was not unpitying. He seemed to 
 marvel that any man could stain himself in such a 
 fashion. 
 
 " Nay, he shall not die yet," he said. " We 
 will take him with us under watch, that there be 
 no more betrayal." 
 
 The eldest brother made a movement of protest, 
 but spoke no word. The traitor, with a gasp of 
 wondering relief, crept to Domhnall where he sat 
 and strove to kiss his hands. 
 
 " Lord, lord, you have saved me ! " he muttered. 
 " I will yet serve you well ! I was mad, mad, but 
 I am at heart no traitor ! The saints know that I 
 am grateful " 
 
 Domhnall drew back from his touch, and his 
 eyes changed.
 
 DOMHNALL LOOKED ON AN EMPTY SEA 249 
 
 " So you are grateful ? " he said. " So you wish 
 to live <?n ? Now that is what I may not under- 
 stand ! " 
 
 And then the traitor mumbled no more of his 
 gratitude. He crouched in silence, with a certain 
 horror in his eyes. And in silence the others 
 waited, while the shadows deepened without the 
 cave. 
 
 That silence was broken by the sudden patter 
 of feet, by the hasty entrance of the sentry. His 
 eyes were bright with a fear that assuredly was not 
 for himself. 
 
 " Lord, the English are almost upon us ! They 
 have come before their time ! " he gasped. 
 
 Domhnall heard the grim news unmoved. The 
 traitor's face brightened, even against his prudent 
 will. The eldest brother hissed out an oath. 
 
 " How far are they yet ? " Domhnall asked 
 coolly. 
 
 " The third of a mile, maybe, lord. They are 
 coming slowly, and with caution." 
 
 Domhnall moved to the mouth of the cave. 
 
 " It grows dark," he said. " We must win to 
 the horses. We will outwit them yet. Come, 
 lads ! " 
 
 They crept into the open air. The English were 
 not yet in sight from the cave mouth. The curve 
 of the narrow valley hid them as yet. All around 
 the valley rose up the low, dark, brooding hills, 
 and night was spreading her dark wings with speed. 
 One hill crest yet held the last faint reflection of 
 the sun, like a fading jewel ; about the others the 
 long shadows had crept with tenderness. There
 
 250 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 was peace, a very fragrance of peace, in the cool, 
 sweet air, and yet death with its harsh clamour was 
 very near. 
 
 Domhnall led the way, moving almost upon his 
 hands and knees, the eldest brother at his side, 
 eager to lend support to his scarcely tested limbs. 
 The traitor followed between the two younger 
 brothers. In their grim eyes he read what a warning 
 shout or an attempt at escape would spell. 
 
 In safety they gained the little hidden cleft where 
 five horses were tethered, cropping the short, sweet 
 grass. So near were they to the cave that they 
 might hear the clink of bits as the little English 
 troop drew rein before the cave. And very clearly 
 they heard the oaths and yells of baffled rage that 
 broke out a moment later. 
 
 " The bird is flown ! " they heard a hoarse voice 
 exclaim. " He has bubbled me, that Irish dog, 
 whom I thought so honest a traitor ! " 
 
 Domhnall smiled grimly as he heard. And the 
 traitor winced. But the faces of his brothers never 
 changed. Since they had learned of the treachery 
 no flicker of light had come to them. 
 
 " Scatter and search, boys ! " the hoarse voice 
 ordered. " The rogues cannot be long fled ! " 
 
 " We must away ! " Domhnall muttered. " If 
 need be, we must trust to speed." 
 
 The horses were untethered by now. Domhnall 
 was helped to saddle. The brothers mounted, the 
 traitor still closely guarded. They made their way 
 to the far angle of the cleft, the horses moving 
 slowly and silently over the soft mountain turf. 
 But ere they reached it, they heard the click of a
 
 DOMHNALL LOOKED ON AN EMPTY SEA 251 
 
 shod hoof on stone, and two faces came into view, 
 the faces of two English troopers. 
 
 Just for a moment amazement held those two 
 troopers silent. They had little expected to come 
 so swiftly upon their quarry. They drew rein and 
 stared, barring the way, their eyes wide in their 
 round, bronzed faces. 
 
 The elder brother was swift of thought. He turned 
 and beckoned to his youngest brother. " Steel, 
 Patrick, steel ! " he muttered. In a moment his 
 brother's horse was beside him. Their blades were 
 bare in their hands. They drove home their heels. 
 Even as a warning yell broke from the troopers' 
 throats, the hill ponies leaped forward against 
 them. 
 
 The fight was brief. The troopers were the 
 heavier, men and horses, but the ground was 
 against them. They were still climbing when steel 
 met steel. The elder brother cut down his man 
 with one swashing blow, himself unscathed. The 
 younger slew his foe, but took his point in his own 
 breast. He dropped dead from his pony without a 
 cry or groan. 
 
 The way was clear, but other foes were close. 
 One glance the eldest brother threw at the dead 
 boy upon the ground, one glance, and then he set 
 his lips like stone. 
 
 " Come, lord, Patrick is dead ! " he gasped 
 hoarsely. 
 
 Delay spelt death for all. Domhnall spurred 
 after his leader, lifting his hand as he passed to 
 the dead lad upon the ground. The traitor and his 
 guardian followed. They clattered down the slope
 
 252 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 at reckless speed. As they swung into the valley 
 a roar of yells broke out. With the yelp of sighting 
 hounds the English spurred in pursuit. The dark 
 hills looked down upon the one chase that never 
 fails to thrill the blood, the death chase of men upon 
 the heels of men. 
 
 It was keen, savagely keen, that death chase 
 among the Irish hills, but it did not endure for long. 
 The mountain ponies were fresher than the English 
 mounts, their riders rode far lighter. And Domhnall's 
 guide knew those hills and valleys as a town man 
 knows the twisting maze of streets. 
 
 The fugitives doubled with cool skill. The oaths 
 and clatter of the pursuers died down. Through 
 the cool silence and the thick darkness, Domhnall 
 headed for Kildownet, many weary miles away. 
 
 In the grey of dawn they halted at a lonely hut. 
 And there Domhnall had his first news of Grana 
 for many days. 
 
 " The Lady Grana ? " the ragged master of the 
 hut asked with swift suspicion. " And who are 
 you that ask of the Dark Lady, the saints be good 
 to her ? " 
 
 " I am Domhnall O'Flaherty," Domhnall an- 
 swered quietly. 
 
 At the words the tattered, wild-haired peasant was 
 down upon his knees, groping for DomhnaH's hand 
 that he might kiss it. He had spoken of Grana as 
 a man might speak of his queen. He sppke to 
 Domhnall as to a king brought back from death 
 itself. 
 
 " The O'Flaherty ! God forgive me that I did 
 not know you, lord ! But they saici that you were
 
 DOMHNALL LOOKED ON AN EMPTY SEA 253 
 
 dead, long since. Ah, lord, lord, there is hope for 
 us yet, since you yet live ! The English have 
 ground us sorely under heel. But you have come 
 back again, saved by the saints, to give us heart 
 once more ! " 
 
 Maybe, it is likely, Domhnall's heart was touched, 
 but rarely was it his will to show deep feeling. 
 And he was afire for news. 
 
 " We may yet draw sword together, lad," he 
 said. " But what of my dear lady, what of the 
 Lady Grana ? " 
 
 " Lord, she has been chastened sorely by the 
 blessed saints. You will need all your courage. 
 The little lord has been taken by the English." 
 
 Domhnall gasped an exclamation, then motioned 
 the man to tell him more. 
 
 " Almost they took Kildownet, lord. The Dark 
 Lady was away, seeking to save you. The castle 
 held out, but the little lord was taken. When she 
 heard, the Dark Lady journeyed to the English 
 camp, to plead for him, it is said. I know only 
 what I have heard. She returned without the 
 child, and now, they say, it is in her mind to sail 
 for England." 
 
 " When does she sail ? " Domhnall cried. 
 
 " I heard that she would sail this very day, in 
 the ' Red Horse,' her famed ship of war. She 
 believes, lord, that you are dead, as did we all." 
 
 Domhnall groaned. 
 
 " God, but she will have suffered, my sweet, 
 brave lady ! " he muttered. " Childless and 
 widowed, wellnigh alone ! And now if I am late ! 
 What of the hofies ? "
 
 254 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " They are sore jaded, lord. They must have 
 fodder and an hour of rest, if we would make fair 
 speed." 
 
 With a stern effort Domhnall regained his ac- 
 customed calm. 
 
 " I know it, but such delay is torture. Yet we 
 have no choice. Food ? nay, good friend, I have 
 little heart for eating." 
 
 It was as though a fever rode him. His face was 
 white and deeply lined, but he would take no rest. 
 He seemed to have thrown aside his late weakness 
 like a tattered cloak. He paced up and down 
 untiringly. They begged him to eat, as though 
 they had been women and he a child, and to please 
 them he strove to swallow a bare crust. 
 
 But when half the hour had crawled away he 
 halted. 
 
 " I had forgotten," he said, speaking privately 
 so that the man of the hut might not hear. " I 
 would have a word with that other, with him who 
 would have sold us." 
 
 He sat upon a rock at a little distance from the 
 hut, and the two brothers led the traitor before 
 him. 
 
 The grey dawn light was growing. A chill wind 
 blew drearily from the sea. It whipped the ragged 
 cloak in which Domhnall was wrapped, it stirred 
 the dark hair above his keen, dark face. His eyes 
 were rarely cruel, and there was no cruelty in them 
 now. He gazed sombrely at the traitor, white- 
 faced and cringing. Over the eastern hills a faint 
 pink glow was deepening into rose. 
 
 " I have no reproaches for you," Domhnall said.
 
 DOMHNALL LOOKED ON AN EMPTY SEA 255 
 
 " Many men have died for me in their high courage. 
 But a few hours ago your brother gave his life 
 for mine. If only for your brother's sake you may 
 go free." 
 
 The traitor gasped out choking words of heart- 
 felt thanks. 
 
 " It was never in my mind that you should die," 
 Domhnall said quietly. " I did but take you with 
 us, a prisoner, that you might work no more harm. 
 Nay, I do not think that I am truly merciful. Did 
 I stand in your place I should beg for death upon 
 my knees." 
 
 The prisoner seemed to find no words. 
 
 " Go now," said Domhnall. " But I think not 
 that you will escape punishment, soon or late." 
 
 He had spoken without heat, scarcely with 
 sternness. He turned away. 
 
 The traitor met his brothers' eyes. Shivering 
 like a man with ague he seemed to read their 
 glance. Then, still walking between them, he passed 
 down the valley, out of Dornhnall's sight. 
 
 They led him to the edge of a black, quivering, 
 bottomless bog. The eldest brother spoke in a 
 voice that was too cold for hate, pointing to the 
 foul, viscous surface. 
 
 " You have shamed us, our brother who is dead, 
 and all our name. We send you where you belong. 
 Make an end now, of your own will, or at our hands." 
 
 He did not die quietly. He clung to their knees, 
 moaning and babbling vain prayers. When they 
 plucked him free, one dreadful scream rang echoing 
 through the hills. The bog, the black bog was 
 mercifully swift. But for long it danced and
 
 256 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 quivered, as though it grinned and gloated over that 
 which it had sucked down. 
 
 When the hour of rest was ended, the brothers 
 brought the horses. 
 
 " The other, he is gone ? " Domhnall asked, as 
 they held his stirrup. 
 
 " Aye, lord, he is gone," the eldest brother 
 answered very quietly. 
 
 Afterwards they rode far and fast. Domhnall 
 spared neither horseflesh nor himself. He rode 
 with a white, pinched face, rocking in the saddle 
 for very weariness. The dancing sunshine mocked 
 him. If he were too late if Grana had already 
 sailed ! 
 
 By noon they reached Kildownet. Grey and 
 lonely it towered under frowning Slievemore, a 
 menace to Achill Sound and the wastes of sea beyond 
 No one stirred upon its battlements or terrace. 
 There was no twinkle of steel at any arrow slit. 
 
 Domhnall flung himself reeling from his reeking 
 horse, and an old withered crone, a figure lonely 
 beyond words, rose up from among the rocks. 
 
 " What of the Lady Grana ? " Domhnall gasped. 
 
 " She sailed, lord, an hour ago for England with 
 every lad of the few that were left her," the woman 
 quavered. 
 
 Domhnall looked upon the sea with aching eyes.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 WHICH TELLS OF THE "RED HORSE'S" 
 LAST FIGHT 
 
 THE sea gave of its healing to Grana. 
 God knows, the past and the future were 
 yet dark to her eyes. Behind her lay 
 harsh failure, and a grief that she dared not face 
 while there was work for hand and brain. She was 
 widowed, as she believed, parted by a cruel death 
 from the one man who had had power to tame and 
 charm her proud fearless heart. Her strength was 
 broken, and her old reckless ambition lay crushed 
 and humbled for the time. For aught she knew, 
 death had taken her son as well. At the least, he 
 was torn from her, he was in the hands of her life- 
 long foes. And she was sailing, with the bare 
 handful of her servants who yet lived, to plead for 
 him upon her knees, to seek pity and generosity at 
 the hands of that great queen whose vague power 
 and pitiless strength loomed like a terrible shadow 
 above all snarling, restless Ireland. She was famed 
 for many qualities, that great queen, but generous 
 pity was scarcely her most notable gift. Brave 
 they called her, brave above the wont of women 
 even in the teeth of hideous peril, strong of will as 
 are few men, arrogant, vain and wilful, but of pity 
 they said that she was little given to that weakness, 
 s 257
 
 258 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 And it was at the feet of this hard-souled woman 
 that Grana must abase the remnant of her old pride. 
 A sorry journey that, for Grana of Achill. 
 
 And yet and yet as she paced the swaying deck 
 of the " Red Horse," as she felt upon her cheek the 
 old sharp pringle of flung spray, Grana 's eyes were 
 losing their darkness of despair. In her veins was 
 the blood of a long line of wild sea-raiders. Ever 
 the sea called to her, ever she had found her most 
 royal pride and happiness in sea adventuring. 
 Sore tried as she might be, the sea gave back to 
 her now something of strength, something even 
 of hope. Bryan Teige and Red Donell, watching 
 covertly their lady's face like dumb faithful dogs, 
 felt their own hearts lifted as they noted that 
 welcome change. 
 
 The sea smiled upon them at the start. For two 
 days the " Red Horse," long, lean, sharp-bowed 
 and venomous, hissed forward with a steady breeze 
 upon her quarter. For far and wide she was noted 
 for her seaworthiness and speed. Many a peaceful 
 trader, and storm-battered war-ships not a few, 
 had had grim cause to curse the hour when they 
 had sighted that lean tigress of the sea slide forth 
 from Achill Sound. She could outsail, it was 
 boasted, any ship that was ever launched. Her crew 
 had been hardened to the extreme of skill and 
 daring by the perils of swift treacherous tides and an 
 iron, pitiless coast. The " Red Horse " had ever 
 been Grana of Achill's darling pride. 
 
 But after those two peaceful days the sky was 
 darkened with a sweep of livid, dusky clouds, and the 
 breeze stiffened with a gusty yell. The " Red
 
 THE " RED HORSE'S " LAST FIGHT 259 
 
 Horse " plunged on with shortened sail, bucking 
 through the white-crested rollers like a hard-held 
 horse, scornfully careless as ever of the wildest gale. 
 Her scanty crew kept uneasy footing upon the 
 sluiced, wave-washed deck. At the stern balanced 
 Bryan Teige, his scarred hands gripping the long 
 tiller, his shrewd, haggard, puckered eyes peering 
 forward through the wind-flung spray. Near to 
 him Grana paced, light-footed and agile, upon the 
 slippery planks, wrapped in a long dark cloak of 
 frieze, her black hair damp, her eyes alive with 
 their old sea fire. 
 
 Red Donell came stumbling from the bows, 
 waddling like an uneasy-footed bear. 
 
 " A sail on the lee bow, lady ! " he cried. " She 
 is French by the look of her, and filled, maybe, with 
 good French wine. Our luck is in ! " 
 fct Ever a creature of simple needs, was Red Donell. 
 In the news he brought were promised fighting 
 and liquor, and his soul craved little more of life. 
 He never doubted what his lady's word would 
 be. 
 
 Nor did his comrades doubt. Few they were, 
 but they had the superb arrogance of men who 
 have never met their match upon the sea. They 
 swore by the heels of the " Red Horse," they swore 
 by their own seamanship, they swore by the Dark 
 Lady's sea luck and daring. She had had her 
 small misfortunes upon the land, had the Dark 
 Lady, but now she was at sea once more, upon her 
 own element, and all would now go well. 
 
 But Grana hesitated. She turned to Bryan 
 Teige with a muttered word.
 
 260 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " We are sorely undermanned, Bryan. I can 
 spare no men, and I would have no delay. I am 
 afire to get to London. It is in my mind to let this 
 trader go." 
 
 Bryan Teige shrugged his lean shoulders. 
 
 " As you will, lady. And yet there should be 
 brief belay. These fat wine traders have small 
 stomach for a fight. And you will think, maybe, 
 that the lads have earned a little sport." 
 
 Grana yet hesitated, but she smiled faintly, 
 almost against her will. She glanced at Red Donell 
 and the rest. The change in their faces, their 
 bewildered wonder, was almost laughable. Why 
 should their lady consider and debate ? The gods, 
 the good kindly sea gods, who had ever smiled upon 
 the " Red Horse," had assuredly sent this blunder- 
 ing trader for the edification of her deserving crew ! 
 They had no doubts at all concerning their own 
 deserts. 
 
 And as she looked at them Grana's smile grew 
 almost merry. 
 
 " So be it, lads ! " she cried. " We will snap up 
 yon prize. Maybe you have earned some little 
 reward for honest work. But hark you, one and 
 all, there shall be no drunkenness when the prize is 
 ours ! The man who exceeds his due allowance 
 shall be most soundly flogged ! " 
 
 There was half-rueful laughter from the crew. 
 The Dark Lady spoke sound sense, as ever. They 
 were no light drinkers, that handful of tattered 
 sea-raiders, but but short-handed as they were, 
 with work before them, a wild debauch would be 
 mad folly. Now, a gay carouse on land, after a
 
 THE " RED HORSE'S " LAST FIGHT 261 
 
 successful cruise, was quite another matter, was an 
 indulgence for which even Father Michael scarcely 
 had the heart to find blame. 
 
 The trader in her turn had sighted them. Upon 
 the " Red Horse " they saw her men running 
 up more sail with furious haste, in defiance of the 
 yelping gale. Right well they knew, upon that 
 trading craft, what mercy they might expect from 
 those who manned that long dark rover of the sea ! 
 Little honesty or pity was practised upon the seas 
 in those wild days. The strong hand ruled, the 
 law of might was the one law that counted. If ship 
 met with ship, it mattered little whether or no 
 there were formal war between their countries. 
 The heavier metal, the more daring skill, prevailed. 
 For the victors there was plunder, for the conquered, 
 too often, death. The sea hides well its countless 
 dead, the tales of whose red wrongs have been never 
 told. 
 
 Like a lion upon a clumsy steer the " Red Horse " 
 leaped upon her prey. She could outsail her, three 
 feet to one. Within an hour she was within easy 
 shot. With less than a cable's length between them 
 the two ships ran abreast, the " Red Horse " 
 hissing easily through the grey-backed rollers, the 
 trader foaming and wallowing in her hopeless 
 clumsy flight. 
 
 Three light culverins upon either rail the trader 
 carried. As the ships ran on she loosed three 
 spluttering broadsides. They went astray, all save 
 one ball which smashed into red ruin one of the 
 " Red Horse's " crew. Grana frowned heavily. 
 So far, in grim silence, she had held her fire.
 
 262 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " Cross her bows, Bryan ! " she called. " And 
 you, Donell, rake her with all we have ! " 
 
 She was obeyed with promptness. The odds 
 were weighted heavily in favour of the " Red 
 Horse." Everything she had speed, seamanship 
 and gunnery. Across the trader's bows she slid, 
 and as she passed, at murderous range, she gave 
 her her full broadside of culverins loaded almost 
 to the muzzle. They did their work, they did their 
 work ! From the trader's deck came the crackle 
 of splinters, the shrieks of wounded men, the crash 
 of shivered spars. She jammed up into the wind, 
 with her helmsmen down, with her tiller shot away. 
 
 " Good work, Donell ! " Grana said quietly. " Be 
 swift and make an end ! " 
 
 Within ten minutes the fight was over. The 
 trader rolled a helpless wreck in the trough of the 
 heavy swells. Her mainmast had fallen, the half of 
 her crew was down. She made no formal surrender, 
 since that were but a waste of breath upon the seas 
 in these red days. Men fought to the last against 
 hopeless odds, and died sword in hand, lest worse 
 things befall them. But now a surprise awaited 
 the survivors of that trader's crew. 
 
 " Run her alongside, Bryan ! " Grana ordered. 
 " Aye, it will need skill, but what would you ? Be 
 ready with the grapples, lads ! " 
 
 Mad Bryan was ever a master helmsman. With 
 another less handy at the tiller the two craft had 
 been crushed like egg-shells in that wild sea. But 
 his haggard eyes were shrewd and cunning to judge 
 distance, and his touch was delicate and strong. 
 He brought the " Red Horse " grinding alongside
 
 THE " RED HORSE'S " LAST FIGHT 263 
 
 her prey with little scathe, and as she came Grana 
 hailed the trader's crew. 
 
 " Throw down your arms ! I give you life and 
 freedom, if ye be not fools ! " 
 
 Grana, as she proved time and again, was seldom 
 cruel. She had a keen love of fighting for its own 
 wild sake, but she ever turned with sickness from 
 the thought of wanton slaughter. And she could 
 leash her men, when the blood lust was dancing in 
 their veins, a gift that was too rare in those harsh 
 days. Even now, when all her world was dark 
 about her, her heart had not hardened, had not 
 lost its trick of pity. 
 
 The trader's crew obeyed with sullenness. They 
 had scant liking for the appearance of the ragged, 
 hairy swordsmen who lined the " Red Horse's " 
 rail. But with their captain down they had small 
 stomach for a hopeless fight, they clutched greedily 
 at the chance of quarter. As the grapples caught 
 they flung down their arms. Locked together the 
 two craft rolled, flinging clouds of spray between 
 their rubbing flanks, and Grana sprang with her 
 men upon the trader's deck. 
 
 It was a sorry sight that met them. But the 
 eyes of men, and of women, were less squeamish 
 then than in these thinner-blooded days. Lives 
 were cheap. Death came swiftly without warning 
 to one and all. He who slew his man to-day might 
 lie in his own blood upon the morrow. 
 
 It was wine for which the crew of the " Red 
 Horse " craved. And the trader's hold was abrim 
 with casks. While Grana with Bryan at her heels 
 made search for stores and weapons, Red Donell
 
 264 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 with eager helpers rigged tackle and whipped barrel 
 after barrel from the hold. 
 
 But their merry task was swiftly interrupted. 
 
 There came a yell from the unwilling watchman 
 whom Bryan had left upon the " Red Horse " 
 " A sail ! Two sails ! " 
 
 Grana and Bryan Teige leaped to the rail. They 
 peered beneath their hands over the grey waves. 
 
 " War-ships, lady, I judge ! " Bryan muttered. 
 
 At his shoulder he heard a chuckle of surly 
 triumph. He turned savagely upon the trader's 
 mate. 
 
 " You dare to laugh, dog ! What are they ? " 
 
 The mate's laughter died with swiftness before 
 that grim glare. 
 
 " War-ships, they are, I judge, and English, out 
 of Plymouth Bay," he muttered. 
 
 Bryan Teige turned from him to Grana. 
 
 " We have frolicked long enough, lady ! " he 
 said. "It is time and over time to trust to our 
 heels ! " 
 
 Grana nodded with tightened lips. The peril was 
 urgent. 
 
 " They are close," she muttered. " We have 
 kept poor watch." 
 
 And then she raised her voice. 
 
 " Back to the ' Red Horse/ lads ! " she cried. 
 " We must run for once ! " 
 
 Red Donell ventured a grumble. 
 
 " Time enough to run, lady ! The ' Red Horse ' 
 can outsail aught that swims. You would not have 
 us leave the good wine ? But one little cask or 
 two "
 
 THE " RED HORSE'S " LAST FIGHT 265 
 
 Grana had scanty patience, these days. 
 
 " Guzzler and drunken swine, must I speak 
 twice ? " she cried. " Aboard with you and 
 speedily ! " 
 
 Red Donell dropped his great hands from a cask 
 and slunk to the rail like a whipped dog. In his 
 small eyes was the grief of a lover robbed of sweet 
 kisses. 
 
 Before her Grana drove her murmuring men. 
 Their aching thirst was stronger than their prudence. 
 But she was fiercely deaf to their entreaties. They 
 sprang from the wallowing trader to the " Red 
 Horse's " deck. They hacked loose the grapple 
 ropes and hoisted sail. The " Red Horse " glided 
 from her wounded prey. 
 
 It was full time. The English war-ships were 
 bearing down under a press of sail. They too had 
 sighted prey. And now the crew of the " Red 
 Horse " had changed their parts perforce in the 
 fierce drama of the sea. They had been the stronger, 
 and they had not spared. Now they were by far the 
 weaker, and their fate lay clear before them, if, for 
 once, the " Red Horse " had met her match in 
 speed. 
 
 Bryan Teige was at the tiller. 
 
 " What course, lady ? " he asked sharply. " If 
 we hold on we shall clear them barely, and we may 
 but run into a trap." 
 
 " Hold on up Channel," Grana answered curtly. 
 " I judge that we shall clear them, and I will not 
 turn ! " 
 
 Bryan Teige lifted his eyebrows, but he obeyed. 
 He knew of old how idle was protest when the
 
 266 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Dark Lady spoke with that voice, with glinting 
 eyes. 
 
 And they cleared the war-ships, although but 
 barely. They cleared them and held on, under a 
 spluttering fire. But the sea was too wild for 
 accurate gunnery, and the sea cannon of that day 
 made poor work of it save at a range of a few yards. 
 The " Red Horse " held on, gunwale under, with 
 a reckless spread of sail, daring to answer her foes 
 with a few insolent shots from her light culverins. 
 And the English war-ships bellowed furiously in 
 return, like insulted elephants, and settled down to 
 a pitiless, tireless chase that could have but one 
 end for the small fugitive. 
 
 For it seemed that the " Red Horse," in this 
 heavy weather, had met her match at last. In 
 lighter airs she would have drawn clean away from 
 her clumsier pursuers. As it was, the English war- 
 ships held grimly upon her heels, glorious to see 
 with their bright paint and gilding, with their many 
 pennants and coats of arms, with their high carved 
 castles at bow and stern. As the Invincible Armada 
 had learned to its sore cost, there were no ships for 
 wild weather like the English ships, even as there 
 were no seamen like the gale-hardened English 
 sailors. The " Red Horse," superbly handled as 
 she was, could not draw away from those two sea 
 castles, reeling grimly behind her through the murk 
 of wind-torn spray. And there began a savage 
 running fight. 
 
 The " Red Horse " was sorely pressed, she was 
 in the grimmest peril of her long wild career. 
 Bryan Teige knew that well, and Red Donell. But
 
 THE " RED HORSE'S " LAST FIGHT 267 
 
 to those two the thought of the last mad fight that 
 would surely come was as strong wine. Their eyes 
 gleamed merrily as they peered back at the tower- 
 ing English ships. For once even the haggard 
 tragic eyes of Bryan Teige were gay. 
 
 They knew, of a surety they knew, that their 
 lady was to be trusted for that last wild fight. The 
 Dark Lady, however sorely she might at times 
 perplex her servants, was little given to tame 
 surrender. 
 
 " They draw up, lady," Bryan muttered. " They 
 draw up, although but slowly ! They are sailors, 
 these English, after all ! " 
 
 " Aye, of a truth," Grana answered coolly. 
 " And if a lucky shot comes home, well, it will 
 be a swift end ! " 
 
 " Too swift ! " growled Bryan Teige. " I look 
 for better things, for a gayer end than that. Let 
 them grapple us, one on either quarter, and let us 
 make a good end in one mad fight, with the gale 
 around us, and never a thought of quarter ! So 
 might any man be blithe to die ! " 
 
 Just for a moment Grana's eyes glinted to hear 
 him. Aye, such an end as that, it had for her no 
 terrors ! She was akin in spirit to the lean, lost, 
 reckless man who gripped the tiller at her side. 
 But then she remembered. There was still Tibot 
 to be thought of. 
 
 " A good end, Bryan, but I would not die yet," 
 she said quietly. " I have work to do, if the little 
 lord yet lives. We are not taken yet ! The even- 
 ing draws on fast. With the night we will yet give 
 these English dogs the slip ! "
 
 268 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " It may be so, lady," the fool answered soberly. 
 " At the least, be it your will to live or die, I am 
 but here to serve you." 
 
 " I know it, Bryan," Grana said, and her hand 
 went out to the lean shoulder of her servant. 
 
 By now it was dusk, but by now the war-ships 
 had drawn very close. Behind them the wild sun 
 had dipped amid a wild waste of lemon-coloured 
 clouds. A grey murk of gloom was creeping fast 
 over the torn grey sea. The English were firing 
 steadily from the cannon in their bows. The 
 flashes tore the shadows. 
 
 The " Red Horse " could make no answer. She 
 was running for her life like a hunted, wounded 
 deer. No spar was down as yet, but her sails were 
 torn with shot and her rigging hung in quaint 
 festoons. Three of her crew lay in their blood upon 
 her streaming deck. Grana muttered a sudden 
 exclamation. 
 
 " That shot found her hull ! " She spoke as though 
 the " Red Horse " were a living creature, dear to 
 her, and sorely wounded. " They are near enough 
 for good shooting. What of the land, Bryan ? It 
 cannot be far." 
 
 " I see naught through the murk," the fool 
 answered. 
 
 " Make for it," Grana ordered. " It may be 
 that they will fear to follow. At the least, we are 
 in desperate case." 
 
 Bryan Teige put his weight upon the tiller. As 
 the " Red Horse " yawed, Red Donell, in sheer 
 bravado, loosed a broadside at the English. And 
 the Irish, straining their eyes through the thick
 
 THE " RED HORSE'S " LAST FIGHT 269 
 
 gloom, broke into a rapturous yell. That broadside 
 had gone home ! An English topmast had come 
 crashing down ! 
 
 Grana's voice rang out like a silver trumpet. 
 
 " Good shooting, lads ! There shall be wine in 
 gallons for you, Red Donell, if we live through this 
 sport ! God send they be crippled for a while ! " 
 
 It would seem that that prayer was granted. 
 Both of the English ships lost ground in the wild 
 chase. It may be that the crippled craft signalled to 
 her consort for aid. The " Red Horse " tore on 
 exultant through the gross darkness upon her 
 altered course. 
 
 " Our luck has changed none too soon ! " Grana 
 said at last. " We have shown our heels to these 
 dogs ! Edge off from the land, Bryan. We need 
 sea room upon such a night -" 
 
 There came a yell from the bows, such a yell to 
 the saints as only certain disaster wrings from the 
 lips of a reckless man. " Land, land oh Christ, 
 St. Peter land ! " 
 
 The " Red Horse " struck with a grinding, 
 shattering crash. Once she surged forward, and 
 then she stayed, quivering, battered, and tortured 
 by the leaping, pounding waves.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 HOW ESSEX CAME TO COURT ONCE MORE 
 
 THE dawn broke grey and grudgingly at last. 
 It had been a night of horror. The 
 waves, livid in the gloom, had taken grim 
 toll of the " Red Horse " and her crew. The fang 
 of rock that had pierced her bows had held her for 
 destruction, quivering, like a man who is broken on 
 the wheel. Astern and amidships she had crumbled 
 under the savage blows. Man after man, clinging 
 desperately with toes and fingers to rope or spar, 
 had been torn shrieking from his hold. The haggard 
 dawn revealed but three living figures upon the 
 broken remnant that was once the " Red Horse." 
 
 Those three were Grana, Bryan Teige and Red 
 Donell. At the first grinding shock the two had 
 taken their lady between them. Their thought had 
 been for her alone. They had been cool and 
 adequate amid the yelling turmoil. Already the 
 stern was licked by the waves. They had crawled 
 forward to the bows, shielding Grana as they might. 
 There they had lashed her fast, still between them, 
 with their bodies as her shield. Through the long 
 hours of torment and exposure that followed tfieir 
 strength had endured. Somehow, they had kept 
 the life in their mistress, for the time. 
 270
 
 ESSEX COMES TO COURT ONCE MORE 271 
 
 But only for the time. As the light slowly grew 
 it seemed that their devotion had been vain. The 
 last of the " Red Horse " was going ! The long 
 night's battering had told. Now each pounding 
 wave tore off its mouthful. The moments of the 
 three who yet lived were numbered. 
 
 Grana opened her eyes from a half-stupor. Strong 
 of body and high of spirit as she was, the torture 
 of that night had sapped her strength. Few women 
 indeed could have lived through that night. But 
 since her childhood Grana 's slender, graceful body 
 had been toughened by constant hardship. 
 
 " I was dreaming," she murmured. " I thought 
 
 that I was at Kildownet with But God knows 
 
 it was but a dream ! " 
 
 She peered about her, at the splintered, groaning 
 timbers to which she was lashed, at the grey sky, 
 at the shore dim seen across half a mile of leaping 
 waves. The wind was dropping, but still the waves 
 were high. A grey-topped comber, like a huge 
 old grizzled wolf, leaped hungrily at the shivered 
 wreck, wellnigh engulfed it, and drove yelling 
 on. 
 
 Grana smiled faintly. 
 
 " Maybe my dream will soon be fact ! Maybe in 
 a little while I shall be with those two of whom I 
 dreamed. God knows that meeting would be sweet ! 
 The time seems very long since we spoke together, 
 we three." 
 
 She spoke in a drowsy, absent voice unlike her 
 owft. The sound of it, and the sense of her words, 
 sent a chill to Bryan Teige's heart. 
 
 " Lady, do not speak in that fashion ! " he said
 
 272 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 sharply. " Not yet are we spent. It is not worthy 
 of you to lose heart so soon ! " 
 
 Grana strove to laugh. 
 
 " I think I have not the heart that once I had. 
 I think that they have broken it, these English. . . . 
 I do but lead brave men to death, these days. My 
 poor ' Red Horse ' ! She follows swiftly after the 
 poor lads who manned her. She served me well, as 
 they did ! " 
 
 " We also have striven to serve you, lady, this 
 Donell and I," Bryan Teige growled ungraciously. 
 " Will you make our work naught by losing heart 
 like any coward ? " 
 
 He meant to sting her pride. But in that hour 
 Grana's old gallant arrogance was lacking. It was 
 another Grana who crouched there between her 
 servants, white of face, with dark circles beneath 
 her once glorious eyes, with the old hot blood but 
 a chill trickle in her veins. But she had no fear. 
 That fact was plain to Bryan Teige. It was the 
 absence of resentment against his insult which gave 
 him a sharp pang. That was so unlike the Grana of 
 Achill whom he knew and loved. 
 
 " I am no coward," Grana said gently. " I do 
 but think I should not be loath to die. When one 
 is very lonely She roused herself from her 
 numb mood, and spoke with a certain gallant, 
 graceful courtesy that was worthy of the old Grana. 
 " But I am forgetting many things ! I owe my life 
 this night to you, Bryan, and you, Donell. Faith, it 
 is not for the first time ! And I lie here prating of 
 myself ! I ask your pardon, lads ! " 
 
 They only answered her with a gruff murmur.
 
 ESSEX COMES TO COURT ONCE MORE 273 
 
 But her words brought an odd light to their haggard 
 eyes. 
 
 " You have served me well," Grana said. " Now 
 I think there is an end of service. But I have a last 
 order for you. The ' Red Horse ' breaks fast, all 
 that is left of her. You are strong swimmers, both. 
 I bid you waste no more of your good strength on 
 me. Alone and unhampered you may win to the 
 shore." 
 
 There followed a brief silence, and then her 
 servants spoke, wellnigh together. 
 
 " Yon red-headed churl may swim for it alone, if 
 he pleases ! " Bryan snarled. 
 
 " Let that crazy fool dive ! " Red Donell growled. 
 
 Even in that hour the old jealous hate between 
 those fellow-servants yet smouldered. 
 
 Grana's flash of strength was spent. 
 
 " I bid you save yourselves " she murmured, 
 
 and then her dark head drooped down and her eyes 
 closed. 
 
 Bryan Teige glanced at Red Donell. 
 
 " It is time to swim for it," he growled. 
 
 Red Donell nodded surlily. 
 
 " Aye, time enough ! A wonder that the old 
 boat has held out so long ! I will take our 
 lady " 
 
 " You will not ! " the fool snarled. " We take 
 her between us ! " 
 
 He tore free a loosened plank and lashed his 
 mistress to it. 
 
 " The swim will be heavy," muttered Red Donell. 
 " But with luck " 
 
 " With luck we win to land," the fool said quietly. 
 T
 
 274 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " And if not, that, maybe, will be the best luck 
 of all." 
 
 Red Donell grunted. He was ever little in 
 sympathy with the Death Seeker's view of life and 
 death. 
 
 " For me, I will live while I may," he muttered. 
 " I have no crazy wish to die ! Who knows what 
 waits a man beyond ? " 
 
 The fool laughed scornfully. 
 
 " Then live, dog ! " he sneered. " Live to aid our 
 lady ashore ! Afterwards I care not whether you 
 live or die ! " 
 
 Red Donell said nothing. His brain was ill 
 adapted for repartee. He aided Bryan to raise the 
 plank to which their mistress was lashed. For 
 a few seconds they balanced themselves side by side 
 upon the quivering wreck, those two odd fellow- 
 servants, with the one bond between them that 
 drew them together and was their cause of jealousy. 
 Then a great grey comber came roaring in. It 
 swooped upon all that was left of the " Red Horse." 
 Bryan Teige muttered a word. The two with their 
 burden gave themselves to the great wave. 
 
 There followed a choking, buffeting struggle, the 
 fight of two burdened men, strong and enduring 
 beyond the common lot, against the limitless power 
 of the sea. There were rocks, where the torn waves 
 sucked and lashed, there was a dragging tide. The 
 two held on, now lifted high upon a grey giant 
 wave, filling their tortured lungs with air, now 
 buried deep beneath a breaking wall of foam. As 
 the fight lengthened to eternity their bodies grew 
 log-like, their limbs were leaden, their struggle was
 
 ESSEX COMES TO COURT ONCE MORE 275 
 
 the mechanical effort of gallant men who fight on 
 when the spirit is outworn. Their grip upon their 
 limp burden never slackened. Somehow, somehow, 
 between them they upheld their mistress. 
 
 Now the worst was come. Spent, half senseless, 
 they had reached the last creaming line of breakers. 
 The back-wash fought against them, brutally, 
 pitilessly, it was as though the devils of the sea 
 clutched at the last of their grim strength. Bruised, 
 battered, half suffocated, the two made their last 
 effort, amid the slippery, grinding pebbles, that 
 seemed each a greedy foe. And it carried them clear. 
 Beyond the reach of the waves they staggered, to 
 set down their burden and cast themselves beside it, 
 weak and wellnigh swooning with sheer exhaustion. 
 
 Some few minutes later Bryan Teige lifted his 
 dishevelled head, and what he saw brought him 
 reeling to his feet. The light was growing fast. 
 Down the beach towards them was hastening a 
 motley crowd. Bryan guessed what had drawn 
 them. They were wreckers who scented prey. And 
 the wreckers of those harsh days bore but an ill 
 name on every coast. The welcome they gave to 
 shipwrecked folk lacked much in kindliness. 
 
 " Now are we in poor trim for fighting, yet there 
 may well be need of it ! " Bryan muttered. " I like 
 not the looks of these Englishmen ! I thank the 
 saints that my blade is yet in its sheath. Rouse 
 yourself, Red churl ! " 
 
 He kicked heavily at the prostrate figure of Red 
 Donell, and that castaway dragged himself to his 
 feet with a growl of rage. But what he saw made 
 him forget his anger.
 
 276 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 "-I would that I had not lost my good axe ! " he 
 muttered. 
 
 Bryan passed him his dagger, and drew his own 
 long sword. The two stood shoulder to shoulder 
 before their unconscious mistress to face the rush of 
 wreckers. 
 
 That same morning, in the wide bedchamber of 
 her palace at Nonsuch, the greatest lady in the world 
 and the vainest was beginning her elaborate toilet 
 for the day. Elizabeth, Gloriana, the Virgin Queen, 
 the Venus of England, was arraying herself to dazzle 
 the eyes of those courtiers who held to their uneasy 
 posts only by the use of limitless and grossest 
 flattery. 
 
 The woman whom they fed with sickening praise 
 was now in her sixty-seventh year. For all her 
 greatness, and she was very great, she is a pathetic 
 figure. Perhaps no shrewd woman in all the history 
 of the world has ever been so blindly vain. She 
 hungered for honeyed lies concerning her personal 
 charms as certain women hunger for love. 
 
 She had never been beautiful. Even with the 
 fresh fragrance of youth for ally her face had been 
 no more than passably pleasing to the eye. Now 
 now after sixty-seven years she was indeed un- 
 lovely. They had been strenuous years, and 
 notable for England. She had never spared herself, 
 she had outfaced deadly perils, she had proved her 
 royal strength time and again, she had shown 
 herself great for England's sake. It was only for 
 herself that she could be so very little. 
 
 She is worth looking at, Elizabeth of England,
 
 ESSEX COMES TO COURT ONCE MORE 277 
 
 that morning at Nonsuch, as she surrenders herself 
 to her ladies for the long ritual of her toilet. She is 
 preparing, undismayed, to defy the pitiless years as 
 once she defied the fleets of Spain. None can deny 
 her courage. But it is as well to forget her claim to 
 beauty. 
 
 Her face, as yet unpainted, is shot with wrinkles 
 and seamed with heavy lines. Her black eyes are 
 small and often enough, these days, they hold a 
 great ache of weariness. Yet still at times they can 
 be bright, aye, and fierce with their old fire. Her 
 lips are thin and pale, and her teeth are sadly 
 discoloured, thanks, they say, to her inordinate 
 love of sugar. Her hair is sparse and grey. Well, 
 what of that ? Has not her Majesty eighty wigs of 
 various shades ? It is no light matter selecting the 
 one which to-day shall charm those easily dazzled 
 eyes. 
 
 So she stands amid her ladies in her disarray, a 
 tragic, piteous figure, with shrivelled breast and 
 stiffened limbs. And yet, and yet one may forget 
 all pettiness as one remembers. What wonder if 
 her face be wrinkled and her proud head bowed ? 
 The crown of England, if it be right royally worn 
 as she has worn it, must be a crushing burden for a 
 woman's head. ' v 
 
 The bedchamber lacks nothing in luxury. The 
 great bed is a thing of beauty, fashioned from 
 woods of different colours, richly carved. Its 
 quilts are of gold and silver velvet, marvellously 
 embroidered. Against one wall stand two cabinets 
 of silver, each a gem in workmanship, wherein the 
 queen keeps her state correspondence. Never, for
 
 278 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 all her vanity and love of pleasure, does she neglect 
 her heavy toil. Beyond is a little cedar chest, 
 covered with pearls, in which Her Majesty stores 
 the jewels for which, some say, she would have sold 
 her soul. Upon the floor are strewn a tangled mass 
 of rushes, perhaps the only detail in which the 
 room compares unfavourably with a similar chamber 
 of to-day. There are silver mirrors in abundance, 
 in which the queen may survey all angles of her 
 beauty, and upon the toilet tables a very battery 
 of cosmetics and appliances for the fortifying of 
 that beauty. 
 
 Gloriana had risen, as she had retired, in low 
 spirits. For days it had been thought by those who 
 watched and studied her every glance and gesture 
 as only a queen is watched, that she was at last 
 relenting towards Essex. Maybe she regretted the 
 severity which had exiled him to Ireland ? Maybe 
 she still loved him, was wearying for his handsome 
 face ? Maybe his bitter enemies, Raleigh and 
 Cobham, would soon be out of favour and the 
 fairy prince would come to his own once more ? 
 They needed keen wits and swift and supple 
 changes of face, the courtiers who kept pace with 
 Gloriana's moods. 
 
 Already she had stormed at one lady of the 
 chamber, and had slapped another. " God's 
 wounds, girl, must I ever be served by fools ? " 
 And now, with a loose robe about her shrunken 
 shoulders, she was considering which wig her aching, 
 weary head should honour. Almost she had decided 
 upon a certain shade of rich auburn, when there 
 was the ring of spurs, the stamp of heavy booted
 
 ESSEX COMES TO COURT ONCE MORE 279 
 
 feet without her door. It opened without knock or 
 warning, and Essex burst into the room, to cast 
 himself at Gloriana's feet. 
 
 He was fresh from the saddle, soiled, heated and 
 dishevelled. His riding-clothes were in disorder, 
 and upon his long boots, upon his very face, were 
 specks of mud. 
 
 A great oath broke from the queen's lips. Her 
 sallow, wrinkled face flushed hotly. That he, that 
 any man, should see her thus, wigless, unpainted, 
 corsetless and unadorned ! But never did Gloriana 
 lack presence of mind. Even in her rage she 
 remembered to snatch the selected wig from her 
 lady's hand and clap it upon her head. 
 
 " By God's Son, man, what do you here ? " she 
 cried. 
 
 He was ever a fine actor, when he chose, was 
 Robert, Earl of Essex. There were actual tears in 
 his eyes. His handsome face suggested timidity 
 and yet the radiance of joy. He caught at Gloriana's 
 hand and held it to his lips, covering it with kisses. 
 
 " Ah, Madam, Madam, to see you once again ! " 
 he murmured with the very accent of a passionate 
 lover. 
 
 But the queen was very far from appeasement. 
 
 " What means this coming ? " she cried furiously. 
 " When gave I leave for your return, rogue ? And, 
 God's name, how dare you break thus into our very 
 chamber ? " 
 
 Essex still held her hand. 
 
 " How I have longed, in bitter exile, to kiss once 
 more that ivory hand, the fairest in the world ! " 
 he whispered.
 
 280 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Gloriana relaxed a trifle her grim fury. If she 
 had at this date one claim to beauty it lay in the 
 white shapeliness of her hands. They were slim, 
 with long slender fingers, and they were, perhaps, 
 the crown of all her vanities. 
 
 " That is well enough, my lord, but this is no 
 time for such follies. What do you here, without 
 orders ? How have you dared to leave your 
 charge ? " 
 
 Essex raised his eyes and spoke, still upon his 
 knees. 
 
 " Madam, I have done wrong. I have but one 
 plea with which to make excuse. I could not live 
 when exiled from the gracious splendour of your 
 face." 
 
 Almost against her will Gloriana's thin lips smiled. 
 Her old, haggard face grew almost tender. 
 
 " Ever had you a pretty tongue, Robert," she 
 said. 
 
 Essex was nattering for his life, and for power 
 and ambition that were more than life to him. He 
 spoke on with the musical melancholy that had so 
 often charmed the old queen's ears. 
 
 " When a man is prostrate, near to death, he 
 speaks but the truth. Madam, my punishment has 
 been too sore. You knew not what you did when 
 you sent me from you. Your gracious, tender heart 
 could never be cruel. It is but that you know not 
 the strength of your own charm. May a man live 
 without the sunshine, when he has once known the 
 glory of its beams ? They say that captives in 
 dark prisons waste and dwine away. So it was 
 with me in Ireland. I could not live in darkness
 
 ESSEX COMES TO COURT ONCE MORE 281 
 
 having once basked in your glorious rays. My 
 heart broke in my bosom, I was near to death. 
 And so I have returned. Deal with me as you 
 will, Madam, imprison me, slay me if it seems good 
 to you. At the least, I have looked once more upon 
 your face ! Not God and all his angels can rob me 
 of that thought ! " 
 
 They say that in that moment Elizabeth's black 
 eyes were soft and bright with tears. Old as she 
 knew herself to be, it seemed that she could still 
 chain the heart of this brilliant, wayward boy. She 
 believed to the full his honeyed lies. God pity her. 
 She had lacked much in the lonely splendour of her 
 life. 
 
 " Robin, Robin, it is in our heart to forgive you," 
 she murmured. " You know of old our weakness." 
 
 Once more, with a glad cry, he pressed his kisses 
 on her hands. He had risked a great stake, and it 
 seemed that he had won. For a little while Gloriana 
 looked down upon him with gentle eyes. Then she 
 drew away her hand and rose. 
 
 " Fie, Robin, fie ! This is no seemly fashion for a 
 maid to receive a man ! You are too hotly bold. 
 Such a coming must needs bring blushes to our 
 girlish cheeks. And we like you little, hot and 
 disordered from the road. The stinking leather of 
 your boots offends our delicate nostrils ! Go forth 
 and make your toilet, Robin, and we shall see you 
 later ! " 
 
 Essex went forth, concealing a smile of triumph. 
 He believed that all was well. To a friend he 
 " thanked God, that after so many troublous 
 storms abroad, he had found a sweet calm at home."
 
 282 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 But he was to find that such confidence was pre- 
 mature. Taught by bitter experience he should 
 have remembered the proved fickleness of his 
 mistress. 
 
 He had a host of enemies, and they worked with 
 bitter skill. Before he saw the queen again her ear 
 had been won, and her heart had been poisoned 
 against him. He had defied her orders, both by his 
 work in Ireland and by his unsanctioned return. 
 He had usurped her cherished privilege by making 
 many knights. His letters had been insolent. And 
 there were other charges, to inflame more bitterly 
 the jealous heart of the queen. There was talk of 
 one Grana of Achill, of certain passages of love 
 between them. The queen had heard often of 
 Grana. At this last rumour her face set like a 
 stone. Moreover, upon reflection she could not 
 forgive Essex's presumptuous entrance to her 
 chamber. The thought of her own unflattering 
 disarray was a torment to her deathless vanity. 
 
 Tharhevening Essex found himself in close con- 
 finement. The queen's council would investigate 
 his conduct. Gloriana's face seemed definitely 
 turned against him. Much she could have forgiven 
 him, but this talk of Grana, a savage Irish woman ! 
 He had dared to come to the queen, pleading his 
 devotion, with the kisses of that savage yet warm 
 upon his lips ! Gloriana knew her Essex overwell. 
 
 Indeed and indeed, although she knew it not, the 
 future loomed dark for Grana, if ever she should 
 make her way to the outraged queen in London. 
 
 And another was upon his way to England's 
 capital. That same morning on which Grana had
 
 ESSEX COMES TO COURT ONCE MORE 283 
 
 been flung upon the English coast, on which Essex 
 had broken into Gloriana's chamber, Domhnall 
 O' Flaherty was standing upon the deck of a little 
 trading ship. He had rowed out to her alone in a 
 crazy coracle, which had sunk beneath his feet 
 under the trader's quarter. Her captain had given 
 him rude greeting at first, but Dornhnall's cool 
 resolution had caused him to change his tune. 
 With a ring of price, almost his last possession in 
 the world, Domhnall had bought a passage for the 
 Port of London. 
 
 So fate moved her pawns. In London, at the 
 court of the great queen, the last acts of fate's 
 drama were to be played.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 WHICH TELLS OF A SMALL MILITANT 
 PARSON 
 
 GRANA stirred weakly and opened her eyes. 
 She was lying upon the wet pebbles of 
 the wind-whipped beach. Her torn gar- 
 ments were soaked with sea water, and her body 
 seemed one great aching bruise. Bryan Teige and 
 Red Donell, dripping like sea gods, were upon their 
 feet above her. The fighting fool's long sword was 
 naked in his hand, and Red Donell clutched a 
 dagger. Their eyes were bright and gay ; they 
 scented the gladness of a fight against long odds. 
 
 She had not far to look for those odds. A score 
 of ominous figures were leaping down the beach 
 towards them. They were clad like fisher folk, and 
 there were women among them with pitiless eyes 
 and wind-torn hair. They carried clubs and knives. 
 Upon their rude clothes there gleamed old fish 
 scales and the dried salt of the sea. They were 
 wild, ruthless folk to face, those wreckers, in the 
 wild light of that stormy dawn. 
 
 There was no parleying. They came in a fearless, 
 howling wave, led by a lean, dark-haired man who 
 had outstripped the rest by some ten yards. His 
 greed and his speed of foot were his undoing. As 
 he came, Bryan Teige's long arms swung down and 
 284
 
 A SMALL MILITANT PARSON 285 
 
 the flat of his long blade crashed fairly upon the 
 wrecker's head. The man dropped like a pitted ox. 
 The next who came Red Donell gripped with his 
 great hands, and, plucking him off his feet, flung 
 him fairly into the jam of those behind. Two went 
 down before the impact, and the others checked 
 their rush, cowed momentarily by the strength and 
 hardihood of the giant pair who faced them. 
 
 Red Donell laughed aloud, like a great bull, and 
 he bent and caught up the heavy club which had 
 dropped from the leader's hand. 
 
 " This suits me better than your puny dagger, 
 Bryan ! " he cried, and he made his new uncouth 
 weapon whistle round his red bristling head. 
 " Come on, little folk, come on, and do not rob us 
 of our sport ! " 
 
 Of a certainty the reckless invitation would have 
 been accepted, and of a certainty the weight of 
 numbers must have told, had there not come an 
 interruption. As the wreckers gathered for a final 
 rush, as Bryan and Red Donell braced themselves 
 to sell their lives at a deadly price, there came the 
 patter of feet upon the grinding pebbles and the 
 sound of a strident, imperious voice. 
 
 " Have done, rogues, have done ! " it cried, and 
 a figure darted into the narrow space between the 
 combatants. 
 
 It was that of a very tiny man clad in the frayed 
 black robe of a minister. Despite his lack of inches 
 his long white hair lent him a certain dignity, and 
 the homely insignificance of his plain features was 
 redeemed by a pair of fierce and dominating blue 
 eyes. He carried a stout walking-staff wellnigh as
 
 286 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 long as himself, and as he came he flourished it 
 with a grim purposefulness. 
 
 At sight of him the wreckers to a man recoiled 
 a pace, and there came to their harsh faces a look 
 ludicrously like that of wayward children threatened 
 by a stern master. 
 
 " Here be parson ! " they muttered, and the men 
 dropped their hands and the women ceased to 
 shriek vile threats. 
 
 The little man fronted his half-cowed flock and 
 gave free rein to a tongue that lacked neither point 
 nor power. 
 
 " Rogues and hussies, so once again you have 
 forgot my precepts ! How often must I preach 
 to ears that are deaf as any adder's ? I say again 
 that I will not abide this murderous violence 
 against poor shipwrecked folk. You who wring 
 your living from the sea, you who are at its mercy 
 day and night, you of all people should have kind- 
 ness and pity for those whom the sea has cast upon 
 your shores 1 But you shall learn your lesson. 
 You shall learn it if I must break this good staff of 
 mine to flinders upon your lubber heads ! Such 
 goods and victuals as the sea flings up are yours by 
 right of custom, but from this hour the lives of 
 those whom the sea has barely spared shall be 
 sacred at your hands ! Take that ! Take that ! 
 Take that ! " 
 
 His last six words he punctuated with blows, shrewd, 
 bruising blows dealt out without discrimination 
 upon the huddle of cowering wreckers. He spared 
 neither woman nor man. There were few indeed 
 who escaped chastisement. They made no effort
 
 A SMALL MILITANT PARSON 287 
 
 to resist him. They took their punishment even as 
 a cageful of wild beasts accept keen stripes from the 
 whip of one fearless man, whose will has taught the 
 savage captives how vain is all resistance. He strode 
 through their disordered ranks smiting right and 
 left. At the last they broke and ran, and for a 
 space the little man pursued them, hastening with 
 his thudding staff the flight of the laggards. 
 
 Grana was staring in silent bewildered wonder 
 at the odd scene. Bryan Teige smiled grimly. 
 
 " He has robbed us of a gay fight, but maybe 
 he has saved our lives. How is it with you, 
 lady ? " 
 
 " Well enough," Grana answered as firmly as 
 she might. " But we need food and warmth and 
 shelter sorely, we three. Maybe he will aid us 
 further, this strange man of God ! " 
 
 Red Donell laughed hoarsely. 
 
 " They breed queer priests in this England ! " 
 he said. " See, he has ceased at last from his 
 smiting, and returns to us ! " 
 
 The little man strode back to the castaways with 
 a brisk step, twirling his staff as though his hand 
 yet itched to deal out blows. 
 
 " They have had their lesson, my friends," he 
 observed with satisfaction. " Long since I have 
 found that this good stick is the one horn book that 
 their thick brains can understand. While Stephen 
 Puddicombe lives it shall not be wanting to them. 
 That I promise you, my shipwrecked friends ! 
 They are a rough, rude people, and mere honeyed 
 words of chiding were poured out in vain against 
 them ! "
 
 288 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " We are indeed beholden to you, sir," Grana said 
 faintly. 
 
 " A lady, also ! " the little man went on, still 
 fuming. " Indeed, their offence is sore ! Your 
 grievance is keen against them. If you think that 
 they have escaped too lightly I will make after 
 them once more ! I shall smite and spare not ! 
 It is for you to say ! " 
 
 Despite her misery Grana laughed. The little 
 man's fierce bright eyes were eager. Plainly he 
 found a certain pleasure in the chastening of his 
 rude flock. 
 
 " Nay, nay, sir ! " Grana answered. " None could 
 have dealt with them more lavishly. But we are cold 
 and wet and hungry, and we would beg your aid." 
 
 The small parson was ever practical. 
 
 " A plague on me, I should have thought of 
 that ! " he muttered. " The further chastening of 
 those rogues must wait. Yes, yes, but they shall 
 surely have it as soon as may be ! Meanwhile 
 there is more pressing work. Take the lady between 
 you, my good fellows, and follow me to my poor 
 dwelling-place." 
 
 Stephen Puddicombe dwelt in a small house of 
 stone near to a tiny old grey church that was 
 perched upon a hill above the scattered huts of a 
 little fishing village. His kindness and hospitality 
 were limited only by his scanty means. All that 
 he had was at the service of the castaways. It was 
 little enough, but there was at least the comforting 
 warmth of blazing fires, and his aged housekeeper 
 produced milk, spirits and a sufficiency of simple 
 food. Grana was placed in the care of the old
 
 A SMALL MILITANT PARSON 289 
 
 woman, and Stephen Puddicombe, smoking his 
 long pipe, seemed to watch with grim satisfaction 
 the slaking of the huge hunger of Red Donell and 
 Bryan Teige. It was a process that took time and 
 wellnigh bared the larder. And afterwards he 
 bade them sleep before the fire. 
 
 In the afternoon he spoke with them. Food and 
 sleep had done wonders for all three. Grana's sun- 
 golden face had lost its pinched greyness, and her 
 dark eyes held their old light of courage. With a 
 woman's ready skill she had repaired in part the 
 ruin of her dark green gown. The wildness of her 
 splendid blue-black hair was restrained in a great 
 knot. She looked once more, what she was, a 
 lovely, stately lady of old blood. 
 
 Less, far less, could be said for Bryan Teige and 
 Red Donell. The fool's motley was wrinkled and 
 in tatters. Red DonelTs garments must have dis- 
 graced a scarecrow. They looked a pair of hardy, 
 formidable ruffians from whom any decent, prudent 
 citizen might flee. But their strength at least was 
 whole once more within them. 
 
 " Faith, friends, you are looking less like sea 
 wraiths, all three ! " the little minister observed 
 with kindly satisfaction. " Nay, nay, I need no 
 thanks. The little I have done for you was but a 
 duty and a pleasure. But I would know if it is in 
 my power to serve you further. You were sailing, 
 I gather, from some Irish port. So much the 
 wreckage of your poor craft has told us. Whither, 
 if I may ask it, were you bound ? " 
 
 " To London, sir," Grana answered frankly. " I 
 seek audience with the queen," 
 u
 
 290 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Stephen Puddicombe's bright eyes opened wide. 
 
 " With Her Majesty ! Well, well, she is ever at 
 the service of her people. Doubtless you will win 
 your audience. A great lady, God knows, and kind- 
 hearted enough, they say, if she be not crossed. 
 A keen judge, too, of ships and men. She will have 
 an eye, Madam, for your two brawny servants. 
 A starker pair I myself have never seen. "Pis only 
 papists and the like with whom her Majesty has 
 scanty patience." 
 
 He pulled himself up sharply and spoke in another 
 voice. 
 
 " But I was forgetting. You come from Ireland. 
 Belike, you yourself, Madam, are a papist ? " 
 
 " It is true," Grana said quietly. 
 
 The little minister's face and manner changed 
 abruptly. 
 
 " Body of me ! but I might have guessed it ! " 
 he muttered, as though speaking to himself. " Well, 
 well, even had I known, what 9ould I do ? I could 
 scarcely refuse them the shelter of my roof. And 
 yet papists ! And from Ireland ! The land of 
 bloody murder and of treachery. Such qualities 
 do papal superstitions ever breed ! " 
 
 " I fear that you regret your hospitality, sir," 
 Grana said proudly. 
 
 Stephen Puddicombe flushed. 
 
 " Nay, scarcely that, scarcely that ! I would be 
 pitiful to all distressed folk even to papists. But, 
 Madam, we have learned, with good cause, to dis- 
 trust all those who cling to the darkness of your 
 superstition. We have not forgot Bloody Mary 
 with her Smithfield fires. Their bitter reek is yet
 
 A SMALL MILITANT PARSON 291 
 
 in our nostrils ! Nor that other Mary of Scotland, 
 with the fair face and the cold treacherous heart. 
 And the shadow of Spain with her priests and 
 tortures has never been wholly lifted. It is sooth 
 that, like her Majesty herself, we have no love in 
 England for the papist faith ! " 
 
 Grana nodded. 
 
 " So have I heard. Well, I will not strain your 
 charity. Again I thank you for your aid and 
 hospitality, even though they were given in ignor- 
 ance of the faith we hold. Now that your eyes are 
 opened we will intrude no more. Come, Bryan, it 
 is time for us to take to the road ! " 
 
 " Nay, but you are hasty ! " Stephen Puddicombe 
 protested. " I would not be churlish to a lady, 
 whatever her faith. Abide here for the night at 
 least. It may be that eloquence may be granted 
 me to open your eyes to better things 1 " 
 
 Grana smiled faintly. 
 
 " Nay, sir, we will^go forthwith." 
 
 " But it is a far road to London. How will you 
 fare ? Have you any store of money for the road ? " 
 
 Grana, knowing herself penniless, yet smiled. 
 
 " We shall contrive. Come, lads. Farewell, 
 
 sir 
 
 The little parson stood at his door and watched 
 the strange three vanish along the deep-cut, winding 
 lane. 
 
 " A proud dame ! She would accept no hos- 
 pitality that bore a trace of grudging. God forgive 
 me, if it be wrong, but I am glad for them to go. 
 It were against my conscience to shelter papists 
 beneath my roof. And yet, and yet I have not
 
 292 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 seen that lady's like. No, nor the like of her two 
 ruffians ! She bore herself like a queen, a queen in 
 rags. And in her eyes there dwelt something of 
 tragedy. Tis a rough long road to London. God 
 be with them in their wanderings, lost papists 
 though they be ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 HOW GRANA MET A FAMED SEA KING 
 
 THE three lay that night in a barn. Grana 
 was in no mood to face rebuffs. She was 
 entirely without money, and it seemed 
 that in this chilly England religion stood in the 
 way of charity or hospitality. The idea was quaintly 
 strange to her. In Ireland a royal hospitality that 
 grudges nothing, that asks no churlish questions, 
 has been ever practised. 
 
 Bryan Teige and Red Donell, when once the 
 situation had been made clear to them, were 
 for demanding food and shelter at the sword- 
 point. 
 
 Bryan pointed to a lonely farm-house beside 
 the road. " Let us go thither, lady. There will be 
 no more than half a dozen men at most. I warrant 
 that we can teach them mannerly ways, so that 
 they bring out their best for our refreshment, 
 Donell and 1 1 " 
 
 Grana laughed, but she shook her head. 
 
 " Nay, I have ever heard that there is law and 
 order in this strange England. We are not in our 
 Ireland now. They do not rob and brawl, and 
 neither do they open their doors to homeless 
 strangers. We should but be laid by the heels, 
 293
 
 294 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Bryan. And that would not further our errand in 
 London. We will find some lonely byre for the 
 night." 
 
 " And what of food, lady ? " Red Donell grumbled. 
 
 " We have eaten, and we shall not starve by 
 morning. Draw tighter your belt, Red Donell ! 
 I must think me of some plan to win us food to- 
 morrow and help us on our way." 
 
 She could ever hearten her servants, even though 
 her own heart was heavy enough within her. Bryan 
 Teige and Red Donell obeyed her now without 
 question. The Dark Lady required of them no 
 hardships that she would not face herself. They 
 asked little of life or fate so that they were not 
 parted from their mistress. And she was wiser 
 than they. She would, no doubt, direct their feet 
 along the roads of this strange churlish land in 
 which they were stranded for their sins. 
 
 Only Bryan Teige's gaunt face did darken with 
 anger at sight of the rude barn in which his lady 
 proposed to shelter for the night. 
 
 " Doubtless you know best, lady," he muttered. 
 " But indeed this is not Ireland ! In Ireland we do 
 not house a great lady among cattle because of 
 childish superstition or because she has chanced 
 upon misfortune ! " 
 
 But Grana only laughed with the gay courage 
 that many a luckless great lady has revealed, and 
 stretched herself upon dry straw and slept for very 
 weariness till dawn. 
 
 Their awakening was somewhat rude. A farmer 
 with two rustics at his heels was looking in upon 
 them from the doorway of the barn. His counten-
 
 HOW GRANA MET A FAMED SEA KING 295 
 
 ance was choleric and unhospitable ; his men held 
 heavy forks. 
 
 " What be doing here ? " the farmer roared. " A 
 pest on all masterless tramping rogues and drabs ! 
 Fling them out, lads, with a sore back apiece ! " 
 
 His men came forward not unwillingly, with 
 broad grins. It were fine sport to them to give a 
 drubbing to two half-starved rogues and a trembling 
 woman. But as they slouched forward, fork in 
 hand, there rose up from the straw two figures 
 grim enough to give pause to men more warlike 
 than those simple peasants. Bryan Teige, long- 
 armed and sinewy ; Red Donell, bull-shouldered 
 with knotted arms, they leaped up in their tatters, 
 and one may not blame those rustics if they 
 recoiled ! They read gay hungry lust for fighting 
 in the eyes of these two Irish castaways. 
 
 And then Grana rose. 
 
 " We have done no harm, fellow," she said. 
 " You will let us pass forthwith ! " 
 
 She spoke very quietly, but something in her 
 voice and manner seemed to impress the angry 
 farmer. 
 
 Bryan Teige broke in. 
 
 " Let us pass, lady ? I do not doubt it ! But you 
 will permit us to chastise their insolence ! " 
 
 The peasants understood his gesture and all 
 desire for violence left them. 
 
 " Nay, Bryan," Grana said firmly. " I will have 
 no brawling ! " 
 
 " There shall be no brawl, I promise, lady 1 " 
 Bryan implored. " Naught save a few love taps 
 that may teach them courtesy ! "
 
 296 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 But Grana shook her head and led the way un- 
 opposed from the barn. The farmer and his men 
 stood gazing open-mouthed after the three strange, 
 tattered figures. 
 
 By now the castaways were sorely hungry, and 
 Grana was at her wits' end. She had nothing of 
 value that she might sell for food, save one thing 
 alone from which not yet could she bring herself 
 to part. If she let her men forage with violence 
 
 their journey would be swiftly stayed. And yet 
 
 But it was Bryan Teige from whom came a sugges- 
 tion when they had trudged wearily enough for an 
 hour or more. 
 
 " I will earn bread at the next village, lady," he 
 said. 
 
 " How may you earn aught, Bryan ? " Grana 
 asked with wonder. 
 
 The fool answered her with an odd gentleness. 
 
 " Nay, lady, do not ask. There shall be no 
 violence, that I promise. But you must have no 
 hand in what I do. It were not fitting even that 
 you should see." 
 
 But Grana insisted that he should tell of his 
 plan. It seemed to her but simple prudence that 
 she should know what the man had in his wild 
 mind. Mad Bryan's conception of lack of violence 
 was not always in agreement with that of more 
 peaceful folk ! 
 
 And the fool answered her at last, unwillingly, 
 with a dark fleck of colour in his cheeks. 
 
 " We must have food, lady. I will earn it by 
 fool's play before the villagers. By the Red Steel, 
 why not ? All my years men have called me fool !
 
 HOW GRANA MET A FAMED SEA KING 297 
 
 They are naught to me, the dull oafs who will grin 
 at my capers. And Red Donell here shall maze 
 them with feats of strength. But such low play is 
 not for you, lady. You shall skirt the village, and 
 we will bring you food when we have earned it." 
 
 There were tears in Grana's eyes as she heard. 
 She understood very well she understood ! The 
 part which Bryan Teige proposed to play was 
 torture to his half -crazy pride. Though he yet 
 wore his tattered motley, it was many a year since 
 he had played the buffoon, save when his brain was 
 crazed by liquor. And to buffoon before his master 
 or mistress was a widely different matter from 
 fooling for money before ignorant clowns. Well 
 Grana knew that the man would have starved with 
 cheerfulness ere he stooped so low for his own sake. 
 But for her welfare he would accept this wound, 
 as he had accepted others with which his lean body 
 was scarred. 
 
 " I thank you, Bryan," she said quietly. " The 
 thought is worthy of you. But we will see this 
 through together, as we will see all things. It is 
 not for me to skulk, while others face shame for 
 me. See, there yonder is a village, and together we 
 will earn the food we sorely need." 
 
 Bryan Teige, even Red Donell, attempted remon- 
 strance, but she would not listen. With a set white 
 face she led the way towards the village. In her 
 heart was the one thought, that she must do this 
 thing for her son's sake. If it seem a small thing 
 and light, let it be remembered that Grana had 
 been wellnigh a queen in her own land. And she 
 had a queen's keen pride of race.
 
 298 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 For many a day the men and women of that 
 village gossiped of the three strangers who ap- 
 peared among them that grey misty morning. 
 Never had they seen their like. Whence did they 
 come and whither were they going ? They never 
 learned, those villagers, but the strange three were 
 in their thoughts for long enough. Even their dull 
 eyes could read something of the shame that tore 
 at the heart of the stately queenly woman in 
 the tattered gown who stood by while her ser- 
 vants played the mountebank upon the village 
 green. 
 
 Not but what the entertainment was worth the 
 seeing, the villagers admitted that. The grim, 
 lean man in the torn motley, he played the fool 
 with a wild reckless abandon that tickled alike 
 men, women, and children. There was an odd 
 laughable contrast between his savage face and the 
 mad folly of his capers. They urged him to fresh 
 antics, they could not have enough of him, the 
 simple villagers. But perhaps their bucolic laughter 
 would have died with speed if they could have read 
 the sullen rage which smouldered in the heart of 
 the lean man who earned their coins. 
 
 Since they might not read it, all was well, and 
 when he was weary there were the feats of his red- 
 headed, bull-necked comrade to awake their wonder. 
 The English, high and low, have ever had respect 
 for brawn and muscle. And this ragged, filthy 
 fellow's strength it seemed wellnigh superhuman. 
 He snapped cords as though they had been flax, 
 he flattened pewter pots in his great fingers as 
 though they had been lead. And at last, stirred to
 
 HOW GHANA MET A FAMED SEA KING 299 
 
 emulation, they led out the village blacksmith 
 against him. 
 
 " Here be Tom Jenkyns," they told Red Donell. 
 " If you can cast the stone further than he, ye'll 
 do what no man in all the country-side can do ! " 
 
 Red Donell chuckled sullenly, and bade the 
 blacksmith do his worst. So they cleared a space 
 upon the green, and fetched out the heavy casting 
 stone, and Tom Jenkyns, jealous for his long-held 
 fame, bared his great body to the waist. A fine, 
 sinewy, massive figure of a man he was, and as he 
 raised the great stone the muscles of his arms and 
 shoulders leaped out like heavy ropes. He spat upon 
 his hands, and he took his short run, and he put 
 into his heave all the beef and sinew that God had 
 given him. And at sight of it a dull roar went up 
 from the villagers, and they made haste to pace his 
 distance. 
 
 " Thirty feet and nine inches, Tom ! " an elder 
 announced. " 'Tis of your best, lad ! A right hefty 
 throw ! And now, stranger, beat that if you can ! " 
 
 Again Red Donell laughed, and he slouched for- 
 ward. He made no preparations and he took no 
 special pains. He did not trouble to remove his 
 rags, not he ! He did no more than lift the stone 
 and heave, almost with the same movement. But 
 at sight of his throw the villagers stood aghast in 
 sheer wonder, and the jaw of Tom Jenkyns dropped. 
 And for the third time Red Donell laughed his 
 rumbling laugh. 
 
 " Measure that, little folk ! " he growled, and 
 they paced it to find that it was some few inches 
 over forty feet.
 
 300 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " Here be witchcraft ! " they muttered, and Tom 
 Jenkyns would have gripped his conqueror's hand 
 in honest sportsmanship, but Red Donell waved 
 the man aside. 
 
 "It is food I need, and money, little people ! " 
 he roared. " Handshakes will fill no man's belly ! " 
 
 There was little enough of money in that village, 
 but some few small coins were found and thrown 
 ungrudgingly. And of rough food there was no 
 lack. In their wondering admiration they would 
 have filled Red Donell to the throat with strong 
 home-brewed ale, and readily enough would that 
 thirsty man of muscle have received the tribute. 
 But Grana interfered. This performance before 
 grinning rustics had been torment, sheer torment, 
 to her pride. She would not have it prolonged. 
 Besides, it was never wise to give Red Donell a 
 free hand with liquor ! 
 
 " Take what money and food they offer, since we 
 must," she muttered to Bryan. " And let us go. I 
 may endure no more of this ! " 
 
 Bryan threw one glance at her white face and 
 obeyed with promptness. He spoke two words to 
 Red Donell which pierced even to his slow wits. 
 They pocketed the few coins and they accepted 
 the food with which the villagers loaded them, and 
 then they vanished, as they had come, in the grey 
 mist. A few lads would have followed, but Bryan 
 Teige turned back upon them, and there was that 
 in his lean face which prevailed. These queer 
 strangers desired privacy, and it must needs be 
 granted them. The cowed boys slunk back. 
 
 Away beyond their sight Bryan Teige, with no
 
 HOW GRANA MET A FAMED SEA KING 301 
 
 thought of his own hunger, was pressing food upon 
 his lady. But it seemed that Grana had little 
 appetite. The smile upon her thin red lips was 
 bitter. 
 
 " Do not trouble, Bryan," she answered. " In 
 a little while I shall surely grow hardened to such 
 earning of food. But as yet, it is strange to me, 
 and the thought is choking. I had thought my old 
 pride was broken, but it still endures. It is my lot 
 to tread strange paths, these days ! But do you 
 eat, old friend, even as Donell is eating ! " 
 
 Of a truth Red Donell was revealing no foolish 
 delicacy with regard to the meal which he had 
 helped to earn. But Bryan Teige ate nothing until 
 with an odd gentleness he had persuaded his lady 
 to swallow a few mouthfuls. 
 
 When the pale moon struggled through dark 
 clouds that evening the three were plodding wearily 
 amid a maze of rough country lanes. It seemed 
 that their luck was out. No friendly barn had 
 presented itself for shelter. The rolling, heather- 
 covered country around them was but thinly 
 populated, offering scanty means of livelihood to 
 man or beast. 
 
 Grana broke a somewhat weary silence, forcing 
 herself to speak with gallant cheerfulness, despite 
 the dull ache that seldom left her heart. 
 
 " It seems that we must sleep without a roof 
 to-night, lads. Ah well, it is not for the first time, 
 and things might well be worse. The night is dry 
 and warm, and we have food." 
 
 Red Donell grunted assent, but Bryan Teige 
 made no answer. For some few minutes he had
 
 302 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 been staring around him through the shadows, 
 straining his ears as though to hear some distant 
 sound. Now he lifted his head with a jerk of 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " Do you not hear, lady ? There are voices yonder 
 upon our right. And yes, there is the glimmer of a 
 torch ! " 
 
 All three discerned that pale glimmer, and all 
 three heard the voices now. They were swiftly 
 growing louder as the speakers drew near. 
 
 " I could swear that they are singing ! " Grana 
 said in wonder. " Why should men sing upon a 
 lonely moor ? " 
 
 Red Donell chuckled. 
 
 " Men sing commonly but for one cause when 
 they have drunken deep ! " he said. " And I think 
 that these who come have not lacked wine ! " 
 
 " Donell is right ! " Bryan muttered. " It might 
 be prudent, lady, to leave the lane and give these 
 rogues the right of way " 
 
 But even as he spoke the singing rose to a gusty 
 roar, and the head of a motley procession swept 
 round the curve of the lane. Its leaders carried 
 a dozen flaming torches, and by their light the 
 figures of the castaways were plainly seen. At 
 sight of them, at sight of a woman's figure, there 
 rang out a riotous yell, and the torch-bearers broke 
 into a staggering run. 
 
 "It is too late now to hide," Grana said very 
 calmly. " We must see this matter through as best 
 we may." 
 
 Bryan Teige and Red Donell moved to either 
 side of their mistress. Bryan's hand was upon his
 
 HOW GRANA MET A FAMED SEA KING 303 
 
 hilt. Red Donell's grip tightened upon his heavy 
 cudgel. In a moment they were surrounded by a 
 laughing, howling crowd. 
 
 The yellow torch blaze made the lane as light as 
 day. It beat upon scarred, sea-bronzed faces, upon 
 gold earrings, upon rough sea frocks. It revealed 
 beyond a doubt that this singing crowd hailed from 
 the sea, and that to a man they had drunken deep. 
 
 Indeed they were from the sea, fresh from the 
 sea ! That very day they had been paid off from 
 " The Fair Adventure." Manned with dead Drake's 
 own men of Devon, she had followed in Drake's 
 path. She had taken toll from cowed and humbled 
 Spanish towns, she had torn gold and jewels from 
 blazing Spanish ships. Now her Devon men had 
 brought her home again, rusty with shell and weed, 
 scarred and splintered, but triumphant. And her 
 men-, her reckless, swaggering, child-hearted men, were 
 afire to spend the gold for which they had risked 
 their lives. It would burn in their pockets until it 
 had been pitifully wasted, flung away. After wild 
 riot in the seaport they had set forth to awaken 
 the sleepy Devon villages which had bred them. 
 And now they had chanced upon strange sport. 
 
 " A fair wench ! " 
 
 " A slim -built, dark-eyed, dainty wench ! " 
 
 " Here be luck, lads ! " 
 
 ' Tis her luck, too ! What be your fancy, 
 mistress ? " 
 
 " Whom do you choose, lass ? We be a sprightly 
 lot of lads to pick from I " 
 
 " And each of us at your service 1 " 
 
 " And each of us with gold to spill in heaps ! "
 
 304 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 The wild din beat up to the cloudy sky. They 
 bellowed their rude chaff in voices that would have 
 carried through a raving gale. Some in the deep 
 ring were dancing with snapping fingers. Others 
 were still singing. There was grim danger behind 
 the boisterous merriment. The men were rough, 
 and much vile liquor was surging through their 
 veins. 
 
 " Let us pass, lads," Grana said, striving to speak 
 lightly. " We have far to go." 
 " Let you pass ? Not we ! " 
 " Tarry a while, wench, tarry a while ! " 
 " By the Lord, mates, she is fair ! She minds me 
 of the Spanish maid at Lima ! Hast forgotten her, 
 Ben Hake ? " 
 
 " Forgot her ? Never ! " roared Ben Hake. " But 
 this maid is fairer ! " 
 
 He peered into Grana's face, thrusting forward his 
 torch until her hair was wellnigh singed. Bryan 
 Teige's grip upon his patience snapped. With a 
 savage oath he struck the torch from the tall sailor's 
 hand and sent him reeling backward. 
 
 And then straightway peril showed itself, naked 
 and real. The mood of the crowd changed in a 
 flash from coarse good humour to savage anger. 
 The laughter ceased, and a flood of oaths and threats 
 rasped out. In the background one very drunken 
 man still crooned an old sea chanty, rugged as the 
 wind-crisped waves. 
 " To hell with the lubbers ! " 
 " rut them away, mates, put them away ! " 
 
 " Aye, slit their weasands, and then " 
 
 Not one of them had heard the smart trot of a
 
 HOW GRANA MET A FAMED SEA KING 305 
 
 horse along the lane, not one of them had heard 
 the slither of hoofs as that horse was reined 
 abruptly in. But now a voice rang through the 
 horrid din, a golden laughing voice, such a voice 
 as can ever win and hold the hearts of men. 
 
 " How now, lads, how now, what have we here ? " 
 
 They turned, all that raving, half-drunken crowd, 
 as though they had been drilled. A man was sitting 
 a glorious chestnut mare in the nickering torch- 
 light. He was of middle age, and his hair was 
 greying fast, but he had still the light active figure 
 of a youth. Long years later, after imprisonment, 
 heartache and utter failure, he had still a boy's 
 figure when he climbed the scaffold, and a boy's 
 gallant, sanguine heart. Now he was dressed with 
 a sombre richness that enhanced the striking 
 comeliness of his face. It was a face that once 
 seen was not forgotten, with its delicate mouth and 
 nose above the little pointed beard, its oddly high 
 forehead, and its bright magnetic eyes. They had 
 seen it often, those half-drunken sailors, and they 
 gave it speedy recognition. 
 
 " Sir Walter, Sir Walter ! By God, it is Sir Walter 
 Raleigh ! " they bellowed. 
 
 Raleigh, it was none other, bent his head with a 
 gay smile of pleasure. He had his harmless vanity. 
 Ever it warmed his heart to know that men loved 
 him, to know that humble men swore by him, drank 
 to his name, told wild tales of his brilliant daring. 
 The death of Drake and old John Hawkins had left 
 him without a rival in the hearts of the Devon 
 seamen. He was their hero and their darling. At 
 Court he might have his failures, since his restless
 
 306 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 arrogant ambition bred him many foes, but in 
 his own West Country he was an uncrowned 
 king. 
 
 The sailors swarmed about him now, forgetting 
 their anger, striving like dogs to touch his boots, 
 his cloak, even his mare. And he spoke to them as 
 to rough, boisterous children. 
 
 " It is very well, lads, but I doubt me you were 
 bent on mischief ! We Devon men take pride in our 
 courtesy to women. I fear me that you have shamed 
 us this night with your rough drunken boorishness. 
 Go your ways now, and I will strive to make your 
 apologies to yon lady ! " 
 
 They obeyed him, as they ever did. They 
 muttered shamefaced excuses like chidden school- 
 boys, and Raleigh gravely shook his handsome head 
 and waved them from him. They gave their hero 
 three wild cheers, and so tramped on with their 
 garish torches and their hoarse oaths into the quiet 
 fragrance of the night. 
 
 Raleigh had used his eyes. Even in the dim 
 moonlight he was of those who are not deceived by 
 outer trappings. If it pleasured freakish fate to 
 drive out a great lady in rags upon the highway 
 well, it was for the eyes of a gentleman to pierce 
 that grim disguise. Now he dismounted and came 
 with bared head to Grana and spoke to her as though 
 she had been a queen. 
 
 " Is there aught, Madam, that I may do for you ? " 
 he asked, and in his golden voice was the courteous, 
 knightly deference which had charmed the fickle 
 heart of Elizabeth years before. 
 
 " I am already beholden to you, sir," Grana
 
 HOW GRANA MET A FAMED SEA KING 807 
 
 answered. " You have saved me and my servants 
 from rough handling." 
 
 Her voice and her bearing assured Raleigh of 
 the truth of his first guess. As he met her dark 
 eyes, as he realised in full her stately grace and 
 beauty, his ready chivalry was roused. 
 
 " If I may do more, the honour will be mine," he 
 said. " None know better than I, Madam, the 
 chances and discomforts of the road. My own poor 
 house is near. If you will grace it for this night 
 and at your pleasure it will be a joy to my sweet 
 wife and myself." 
 
 Grana laughed half incredulously. 
 
 " Why, sir, your offer is most knightly and 
 most rash ! " she said. " What may you know of 
 me, save that you have found me, sorely travel- 
 stained, almost helpless and alone, upon the roads ? " 
 
 " I know only that you are a lady and perhaps 
 in some small distress," he answered quietly. " My 
 own name is Walter Raleigh. I do not ask your 
 name, Madam, nor of your errand. For the rest, 
 it is enough that I have seen your face. I have no 
 doubts." 
 
 Grana spoke with tight, clenched hands, with 
 lips that trembled very slightly, half to herself. 
 
 " So, there are true gentlemen in this England, 
 after all, after all ! " she said. " It is good to meet 
 with such an one. Your name and fame are well 
 known to me, Sir Walter. I come from Ireland." 
 
 Raleigh's fine face darkened slightly. Well he 
 knew how many in Ireland cursed his name. The 
 slaughter of the Spanish garrison at Smerwick, 
 he had spoken for it at the council of war, and, to
 
 308 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 his bitter anger, he had been forced in person to 
 undertake it. He still held that it had been politic 
 and necessary, but never did he care to recall that 
 fearful scene. 
 
 " From Ireland, Madam ? " he answered quietly. 
 " It may be that you will refuse my poor hospitality 
 since you are from Ireland ? " 
 
 " Not so," Grana said. " I too have seen some- 
 thing of battle, woman as I am. I know that a 
 captain must needs at times be cruel. For what 
 you did at Smerwick, Sir Walter, I do not presume 
 to be your judge. For the rest, you have spoken 
 to me in knightly fashion, and it is in my mind to 
 accept your courtesy." 
 
 " Madam, you make me happy," Raleigh said 
 quietly. 
 
 " But there is something you must hear before 
 I cross your doors. I am an old foe to England, 
 but now I come in peace. I am Grana O'Flaherty, 
 she whom they call Grana of Achill. So you have 
 heard of me ! I am on my way to London to plead 
 for mercy from the great queen, your mistress. 
 Misfortune and shipwreck have overtaken me, and 
 I am penniless, with these my faithful servants. 
 Now that you know whom you would serve, is it 
 still in your mind to serve her ? " 
 
 Raleigh bowed low with the easy, wonderful 
 grace for which he was famed. 
 
 " Madam, I am honoured by your confidence. I 
 had been proud to serve you before I knew your 
 name. Now am I prouder yet. It will be my 
 privilege to make more easy your path to London. 
 But let us go hence, for you are weary, and if there
 
 HOW GRANA MET A FAMED SEA KING 809 
 
 be more to be said my fair wife will say it with far 
 better grace than I." 
 
 He set her upon his horse, and walked beside 
 her, bareheaded, with his hand upon her bridle. 
 As they went he spoke to her in a fashion that well- 
 nigh brought the tears to Grana's eyes, which for 
 long had ached to weep. Behind them trudged 
 Red Donell and Bryan Teige, consumed with 
 sullen wonder. So they made their way to Raleigh's 
 house. 
 
 In a list of this world's great gentlemen Walter 
 Raleigh, despite his many errors, must find an 
 honoured place.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 HOW GRANA SPOKE WITH THE GREATEST 
 LADY IN THE WORLD 
 
 rwas a day of golden sunlight. The Court 
 vas at Greenwich, and the blue placid Thames 
 *vas gay with great carven boats that bore 
 many-coloured peacock figures, and in the prim 
 gardens of the river palace silken lords and ladies 
 glided to and fro. Alone upon a velvety lawn, 
 near to a giant cedar, the great queen sat in the 
 sunshine, and her eyes were very weary. 
 
 The sunlight mocked her. The youth of the 
 world, since all the world seemed young that sunny 
 day, was an affront to her own years, was bitter 
 upon her lips. She alone was old and tired ; she 
 alone was the victim of faithless men. 
 
 At the thought she sat erect in her great chair 
 and clenched her long white hands. Essex was in 
 her mind. He was seldom out of her thoughts these 
 days, and yet her will about him varied with every 
 hour. Hate and love contended for him in her 
 heart. For a little while, stirred by her old passion, 
 she would be minded to recall him to her, to heap 
 upon him once more the honours and riches of 
 which she had stripped him, to give her own starved 
 heart the happiness for which it craved. And 
 then some cunning enemy would speak to her 
 310
 
 THE GREATEST LADY IN THE WORLD 811 
 
 with smooth bitterness of the young lord, she would 
 remember that he had been heard to mock her age, 
 she would remember his arrogant pride and defiance, 
 and she would give yet harsher orders for his 
 humiliation. Essex, these days, had retired to his 
 own house, the queen ignored the piteous humble 
 letters which he penned her, the courtiers believed 
 that his brilliant star had set for ever. But there 
 was little of happiness in the old queen's weary heart. 
 
 She rose now with an impatient gesture. Even 
 that act of rising added to her bitterness. To feel 
 the stiffness of her limbs, to know herself a prey to 
 gout and rheumatism, to have ever fresh reminders 
 that the sands of her life were swiftly running, this 
 was torment to Gloriana's arrogance. The grave 
 was near and oh ! but she had ever loathed the 
 thought of death ! In the grave all men and women 
 would be equal, so they dared to say. And the 
 thought of that equality was little pleasing to the 
 vainest and the greatest lady in the world. 
 
 She walked stiffly across the lawn and along a 
 gravelled path. She was unattended, for that 
 morning she had ordered her ladies from her with 
 harsh words and strident oaths. Their youth and 
 happiness had been as salt rubbed in her smarting 
 wounds. So she walked alone beneath the trees, a 
 somewhat haggard, tragic figure in that bright 
 setting, until she looked up sharply at sound of a 
 sudden babble of cries. 
 
 She turned a corner, a certain impatient curiosity 
 in the old eyes that had once flashed so royally, and 
 came upon a curious scene. 
 
 Some few grinning pages and a very crowd of
 
 312 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 ladies-in-waiting and of the chamber were gathered 
 about an arch of brickwork to which a wealth of 
 ivy clung. Upon the arch, some ten feet above the 
 throng, a small defiant figure stood at bay. It was 
 that of a small boy of three, his flushed face clean 
 cut as any cameo beneath a tangle of blue-black 
 curls. His rich fantastic dress was wildly disordered, 
 and in his small hands he held an unwieldy sword 
 drawn from its jewelled sheath. 
 
 Just for a moment the queen stood, silent and 
 unnoticed, looking upon the scene. Into her eyes, 
 at sight of that small, superb, defiant figure, there 
 crept an odd fierce hunger. God alone knows what 
 was in her heart. But, maybe, there was the 
 thought " If I had had such a son ! " Then she 
 thrust it from her, if indeed it had come to her, and 
 her voice rang out with harshness. 
 
 " God's wounds, what have we here ? " Gloriana 
 cried. 
 
 All the throng turned in dismay at sound of that 
 well-known voice. The grins froze upon the faces 
 of the pages. They glanced around as though to 
 slink away. But an elderly lady-in-waiting, clad 
 in rich black velvet, her dignified face yet flushed 
 with vexation, found courage to answer. 
 
 " So please your Majesty, it is the little Irish 
 hostage. Indeed he is a true rebel ! Naught may 
 be done with him ! " 
 
 " How now ? What does he ? " Gloriana asked. 
 
 " He will obey no one. He asks always for some 
 rascally common soldier with whom to play. He 
 tears from him the jewelled tunic in which it was 
 your pleasure he should be clad."
 
 THE GREATEST LADY IN THE WORLD 313 
 
 Gloriana frowned. 
 
 " These Irish they are ever thorns in the flesh ! 
 But can you not discipline such a child as that ? 
 
 " Your Majesty, I had given orders but now that 
 he should be chastised, and at the word he climbed 
 the arch and drew upon us yon great jewelled 
 sword from which he may never be parted ! The 
 pages did but laugh when we bade them fetch him 
 down ! " 
 
 " Let the brat be whipped with sharpness ! " 
 Gloriana said coldly, and would have turned away. 
 But Tibot O' Flaherty judged it time to make a 
 demonstration . 
 
 He swung the sword into the air, although the 
 effort wellnigh brought him tumbling from the arch, 
 and he raised his clear shrill voice. 
 
 " Bad peoples, bad, bad peoples ! Tibot no be 
 whipped ! Tibot kill everyones who whips him ! " 
 
 The elderly lady-in-waiting wrung her hands. 
 
 " Your Majesty hears ! " she said. 
 
 But Gloriana laughed out royally. 
 
 " God's name, but the boy has a fine spirit 1 
 Let him be ! For this time he shall escape the 
 rod ! " 
 
 She turned at the sound of a step, and smiled 
 with some little pleasure at sight of Sir Walter 
 Raleigh advancing, bareheaded, towards her. She 
 had never really forgiven him for his marriage, as 
 was her way. Any courtier of Gloriana's risked 
 forfeiting her favour if he dared to wed. To her 
 quaint vanity it was almost treason that her 
 gentlemen should love any lady beside herself. 
 Nevertheless, she had ever a certain kindliness for
 
 814 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Raleigh. His golden voice, his stately figure, his 
 jewelled flattery and polished brilliance, could have 
 won him a way to the heart of any woman. And 
 Gloriana, for all her iron strength of will and un- 
 shakable courage, was essentially a woman. 
 
 " Give you greeting, Sir Walter," she said 
 graciously. " We are right glad to see you." 
 
 Raleigh knelt gracefully and touched with his 
 lips the white jewelled hand she gave him. 
 
 " Ah, Madam, the sun shines for me now after 
 long days of darkness ! " he murmured. " In your 
 presence are no shadows. In truth, it is a godlike 
 gift ! " 
 
 You had sworn that his eyes and voice were 
 wholly sincere and honest. Indeed, to flatter with 
 wild extravagance became as second nature to those 
 who served Elizabeth. Lacking it, there was no 
 path to her regard. 
 
 Gloriana smiled with a pathetic archness. 
 
 " We would have you spare our girlish blushes, 
 Walter ! " she said. " You have ever a tongue of 
 gold. You may walk beside us awhile. And let 
 your speech be happy, for our heart to-day is 
 oddly heavy." 
 
 She put her hand upon his arm. Raleigh's eyes 
 brightened with pleasure at so signal a mark of 
 favour. He was ever cursed with a hungry ambition 
 for success at Court. It was perhaps the one weak- 
 ness which marred his restless, brilliant life. 
 
 The queen nodded towards the arch. Tibot was 
 apparently preparing to descend with all a victor's 
 dignity. 
 
 " We are not free from Irish troubles even here,"
 
 THE GREATEST LADY IN THE WORLD 815 
 
 she said. " Behold the Irish hostage sent me by 
 by my lord Essex ! " 
 
 At the name her face darkened abruptly. Raleigh, 
 with his ready courtier's ease, made haste to turn 
 away her thoughts. Essex and he were old and 
 jealous foes. Yet either generosity or shrewd 
 policy forbade him to malign his humbled rival to 
 their mistress. 
 
 " He looks a gallant child enough," he said. 
 " Faith, it is odd that I should see him now ! I 
 have a small favour to ask of your Majesty." 
 
 Again Elizabeth's face grew dark. She had 
 a ready suspicion of those who sought for favours. 
 She could be lavishly generous, but commonly she 
 was frugal with her doles. 
 
 " Favours, Sir Walter ? " she said sharply. 
 " All the world seeks favours of me ! I have yet to 
 find the man who gives unselfish service ! " 
 
 " Madam, you stand for England, and I at least 
 have given in my time some poor service that 
 sought no reward," Raleigh said proudly and with 
 truth. 
 
 " We know it, Walter," the queen said more 
 gently. " But what is it now that you would ask 
 of us ? " 
 
 " Naught for myself, Madam. It is only that you 
 should grant brief audience to a lady in distress." 
 
 The queen's eyes hardened. 
 
 " A lady in distress ? You were ever a knight- 
 errant, Walter ! What is her errand ? May it not 
 offend our girlish modesty ? " 
 
 " I will answer for her, Madam," Raleigh said 
 quietly. " And, moreover, she is fresh come from
 
 316 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Ireland. It may be that she has tidings of value 
 for your ears." 
 
 " Ireland ? " the queen said sharply, and stood 
 for a little while in thought. " Ireland is but too 
 much in our thoughts these days ! But we will see 
 her. We go now to our closet. Thither you may 
 bring this lady in distress forthwith ! " 
 
 Raleigh bowed low, with a murmured word of 
 thanks, and then, obeying a gesture from his 
 mistress, left her and hastened to an antechamber 
 of the palace. 
 
 There Grana awaited him, seated, with Red 
 Donell and Bryan Teige standing upon either side. 
 The two had attracted much undesired attention 
 from the motley crowd of minor courtiers, citizens, 
 and adventurers who thronged the anterooms. 
 They were glaring around them like two grim mas- 
 tiffs surrounded by inquisitive poodles. Grana was 
 eyeing them with some anxiety, and her face 
 brightened at sight of Raleigh. 
 
 " I have been successful, Madam," he whispered. 
 " The queen will give you audience now in her 
 private closet. Your servants may await you 
 here. Nay, my lads, you cannot follow your mis- 
 tress ! " 
 
 The two received the injunction with some 
 sullenness. Grana prepared to accompany Raleigh. 
 Her eyes were dark with anxiety and her long hands 
 were trembling. But she forced herself to speak 
 with courteous gratitude. 
 
 " Whatever chances, Sir Walter, of good or ill, 
 you have my grateful thanks," she said earnestly. 
 " While I live I shall remember your true chivalry."
 
 THE GREATEST LADY IN THE WORLD 817 
 
 Raleigh gently turned aside her thanks. 
 
 " Nay, nay, it is little enough that I have done. 
 I have but helped you to an audience. For what 
 follows, Madam, you must rely upon your own 
 strength and courage." 
 
 " I know it," Grana answered, and so walked in 
 silence beside him to the most fateful trial of her 
 life. 
 
 Raleigh preceded her within the closet, where the 
 queen sat alone. 
 
 " Your Majesty, I would present to you Mistress 
 Grana O' Flaherty," he said steadily. None knew 
 better than he the risk of stern disfavour that he 
 was daring for the sake of chivalry. 
 
 Gloriana started at the name. 
 
 " Grana Grana O' Flaherty ? " she said. " We 
 we have heard much of her ! " 
 
 Grana would have knelt to kiss the royal hand, 
 but Elizabeth waved her sharply back. 
 
 " Nay, stand where you are, Mistress," she said 
 coldly. " I would have sight of you." 
 
 And the eyes of the two women met. They made 
 a striking contrast, those two, each of whom in her 
 own way was royal. Gloriana was splendidly, if 
 garishly, clad. Her gown was of black brocade upon 
 which there twined and tangled huge dragons of 
 fierce crimson. Her great ruff rose up about her 
 withered throat. Upon her long white fingers, 
 around her neck, in the depths of her false red hair, 
 there gleamed jewels, jewels, jewels in rich, barbaric 
 profusion the jewels she prized second only to 
 power and the worship of men. Her lean old face 
 was grim, and her eyes were bright with anger.
 
 318 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Essex, as ever, was in her thoughts. So this was the 
 woman, this Grana, whom they said that he had 
 loved in Ireland ? And she had dared dared to 
 follow him to London, to show herself here at 
 Court! 
 
 There was nothing of splendour about the equip- 
 ment of Grana of Achill. Her gown, which bore 
 signs of travel, looked a mere dowdy rag in face of 
 the queen's magnificence. She wore no jewels save 
 one plain ring of gold. But she she was one who 
 needed no adornment ! Despite the shadows 
 beneath her glorious eyes, despite the tragic sorrow 
 in their depths, despite the faint lines about her red- 
 lipped mouth, the splendour of her beauty was 
 unmarred. Nor woe nor peril nor long hardship 
 had robbed her of her grace. There was about her 
 yet the mantle of youth, with its courage and its 
 fragrant charm. And be sure the old queen was 
 conscious of her youth, be sure that it was to her 
 like a knife-stab in her withered heart. It pierced 
 even her vanity. Small wonder that Essex had 
 been faithless ! How could she, even she, hope to 
 contend against the youth of this stately girl ? . . . 
 Gloriana thrust aside the weak folly of that thought, 
 and gave her anger rein. 
 
 " You are she who was Grana O'Malley, Grana of 
 Achill, Grana the rebel ? " she asked, with a savage 
 menace in her voice. " You are she who has 
 troubled my servants for so long ? God's wounds, 
 mistress, you have the courage of insolence to face 
 me now ! " 
 
 Once Grana would have flamed to anger at such 
 a challenge. Now she had no thought of her own
 
 THE GREATEST LADY IN THE WORLD 819 
 
 pride. She had but the one hungry, empty longing 
 which had brought her through all perils to abase 
 herself at need at the feet of this woman who could 
 restore her son. 
 
 She spoke now with a face that was white beneath 
 its golden tan. 
 
 " Your Majesty, such power as I had is broken. 
 I am rebel no longer. I am here only to plead for 
 pity." 
 
 Gloriana lashed herself to more brutal rage. 
 
 " Pity ! You may well seek pity, woman ! Your 
 neck has been forfeit to us for ten years ! " 
 
 Grana made no answer. It was Raleigh who 
 spoke, daring greatly, as was his way. 
 
 " Madam, the whole world knows your god-like 
 clemency. This lady has suffered much." 
 
 Gloriana turned upon him like a tigress. 
 
 " You grow over bold, Sir Walter ! Why should 
 you dare to thrust your spoon into this dish ? 
 Methinks this Irish rebel has bewitched you all ! 
 We will dispense for this hour with your attend- 
 ance ! " 
 
 She flung out her long hand towards the door. 
 Even then Raleigh would have dared to speak. But 
 she cut him short with savage fury. 
 
 " Do you not hear me, knave ? God's name, 
 must I speak twice ? I would be alone with this 
 this suppliant ! " 
 
 Raleigh bowed low and left the two women alone 
 within the little jewel-like room. 
 
 Gloriana watched him go. Her thin lips were 
 vicious. Her eyes were spitefully feline. 
 
 " And now, mistress," she said grimly, " and now
 
 320 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 we will hear why, forsooth, you should not receive 
 a naughty rebel's full deserts ! " 
 
 If she had thought to cow this suppliant, as she 
 had cowed so many, with her lion voice and eyes, 
 she received a check. Grana answered her, speaking 
 with steady dignity, with quiet eyes that held for 
 herself no fear. 
 
 " It is true that all my life I have been what your 
 Majesty calls a rebel. I do not seek t6 justify 
 myself. I was, I am, what my birth made of me. 
 I have fought often, and I have held power. God 
 knows I loved that power but too well, and it may 
 be that at times I have abused it. But all is changed 
 now with me. 
 
 " I am beaten and broken. You English are too 
 strong. My men are slain or scattered. My 
 husband my husband was executed by the Lord 
 Essex " 
 
 At the name the queen's eyes gleamed. 
 
 " Essex ? You you yourself had dealings with 
 him, woman ? " 
 
 Her tone, with its note of unleashed savagery, 
 brought wonder to Gr ana's eyes. 
 
 " I went to him to plead for mercy, as I am come 
 to plead with you, Madam." 
 
 Gloriana laughed shrilly, hatefully. 
 
 " For mercy, to plead with him for mercy ! Was 
 that the limit of your purpose, girl ? " 
 
 " Your Majesty, I do not understand," Grana 
 said quietly. 
 
 " God's wounds, you are dull, wench, or you lie ! 
 Essex he is young and handsome, and he was 
 ever besotted after women. You yourself some
 
 THE GREATEST LADY IN THE WORLD 321 
 
 might call you fair. Had you no hope, no vile hope, 
 in your mind when you went to Essex ? " 
 
 Grana straightened herself to her slim height. 
 
 " Your Majesty, I stand helpless before you. It 
 is in your power to insult me if you will. I can but 
 say this. When I sought out the Lord Essex he had 
 but very lately condemned my husband to death. 
 And and with all my heart I loved my husband." 
 
 Gloriana's old eyes were cynically bitter. 
 
 " Oh, aye, you loved him. And he was dead. 
 And such wounds do not heal ! We are ever in- 
 consolable, we women ! Essex was, as ever, a cold 
 and stainless knight, a very Galahad, and you 
 you were also cold and stainless, with no thought 
 save for your dead husband ! That is the pretty 
 tale, girl, is it not ? " 
 
 Grana flushed. 
 
 " It is a true tale, Madam, as regards myself. As 
 regards my Lord Essex, as regards any unknightly 
 suggestion he saw fit to make, it were idle to speak. 
 I will say only this that in the end I struck him 
 upon the face." 
 
 Gloriana sprang to her feet, her lined face livid. 
 
 " God's power, girl, so that is your tale ! He 
 tempted you, lured by your so wondrous beauty, 
 and you were coldly strong ! And he if I con- 
 descend to question him, his story will be the 
 opposite ! A pretty tale, with which to bubble a 
 queen ! Pure virgin souls, the pair of you, I do not 
 doubt ! Ah, well, woman, what is the next lie ? " 
 
 " Your Majesty, if you do not believe me, I have 
 no more to say," Grana answered coldly. 
 
 Gloriana, after one savage glare, sank once more
 
 822 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 into her seat. She struck her long hands smartly 
 together. 
 
 " So we will leave that matter for the time, 
 for the time ! Proceed, girl, with your plea for 
 mercy ! " 
 
 There was that in her tone and eyes which killed 
 any lingering ray of hope in Grana's heart. But she 
 was brave, and she must go through with this task 
 which was proving more bitter even than she had 
 dreamed. 
 
 " I came to my Lord Essex to plead for pity since 
 my boy was in his hands. I was ready to give all 
 pledges for my conduct. He answered that he had 
 already sent the child to London. So did I take 
 ship and follow." 
 
 She paused with an odd little sound in her throat, 
 as though she would gather strength. Gloriana 
 spoke harshly, abruptly : 
 
 " Well, woman, well ? " 
 
 " I say to you, Madam, what I said to him. The 
 child is all I have. The English have no need to 
 war with children. I am no longer a menace to your 
 peace. I can but pray that the child may be given 
 back to me." 
 
 Elizabeth sat for a while as though in thought, 
 her pointed chin resting upon her hand. She was 
 not by nature cruel, save when her measureless 
 vanity was in question. There was a noble sim- 
 plicity about Grana's plea which commonly would 
 have touched her heart. But now that heart was 
 torn and poisoned by an ache of jealousy. She 
 hated this stately, youthful woman oh ! she hated 
 her ! Too well she knew Essex to doubt that he
 
 THE GREATEST LADY IN THE WORLD 323 
 
 had been stirred by such beauty. Something had 
 passed between them. As for the exact truth of 
 those passages, she might never learn it. But she 
 could imagine, God help her ! Like enough they had 
 laughed together, those two with their youth and 
 
 beauty, at thought of the old woman in London 
 
 Her cheek burned hotly beneath its paint, but her 
 voice was coldly judicial when she spoke. 
 
 " It is ever our instinct to be pitiful, but they who 
 rule may not be weak. There are many matters to 
 be remembered. You have not been alone a rebel. 
 As I gather, you have been all your life a pirate, as 
 were your fathers before you. Many a goodly ship, 
 with its cargo of gold and gems, have you and your 
 rascals harried. I have heard no word hinting at a 
 surrender of such rich prizes ! " 
 
 Grana spoke with a certain eagerness. 
 
 " Madam, such a surrender was in my mind. The 
 ship in which I sailed for England was laden with all 
 that was left to me of wealth. It was my hope that 
 I might ransom my boy. But the ship was wrecked, 
 and I with two servants escaped with our bare lives. 
 I have but one jewel of value in the world." 
 
 From the bosom of her gown she drew a necklace 
 of heavy gold work studded with huge rubies of 
 glorious colour. And at sight of it Gloriana's eyes 
 grew bright with greed. Glutted with jewels as she 
 was, her soul yet hungered for more gems, more 
 gems ! She stretched out long, avid hands and 
 clutched the necklace. 
 
 " You do well to surrender some small fraction 
 of your vile spoils," she said coldly. " It will be 
 our purpose to seek out the rightful owner and
 
 824 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 restore it to his hands. So far, well. There are now 
 other matters to consider." 
 
 Her face grew harder. She spoke on with a frigid 
 pitiless note in her voice, still gripping the ruby 
 necklace in her jewelled hands. 
 
 " With regard to this child, we must consider. 
 It is in our mind that not yet at least may he be 
 given back to you. We cannot forget your long 
 offences against our rule. The boy is of value as a 
 hostage. For yourself, it may be our pleasure to 
 hold you for a while in London. Your country is 
 as yet wildly unsettled. But we will discuss these 
 points with our advisers." 
 
 She made a gesture as of dismissal. Grana's face 
 had whitened and her eyes were dark with a chili 
 dread. She moved sharply forward and dropped 
 upon her knees at Gloriana's feet. 
 
 " Do with me what you will, but give me back 
 my boy. See, I beg you upon my knees ! Madam, 
 you know not what you do. If you had ever borne 
 a child ' 
 
 She could have spoken no word more ill-advised. 
 Gloriana's thin lips snarled. Her eyes blazed from 
 her painted face. 
 
 " God's death, woman, would you dare to taunt 
 me ? You, with your cheap motherhood, to sneer 
 at such as I ! While you have borne brats, I have 
 upheld this my kingdom. Let God decide which is 
 the heavier task ! augh, I have no patience with 
 such puling talk ! I have wasted time enough 
 upon you ! " 
 
 She struck a golden bell beside her hand, and a 
 seneschal entered.
 
 THE GREATEST LADY IN THE WORLD 325 
 
 " Let apartments be found for this lady in the 
 palace wherein she may be straitly confined," 
 Elizabeth ordered. " Let none have access to her. 
 You will answer for her keeping to me." 
 
 Grana hesitated for a moment, made as though 
 she would have spoken even yet. But the queen's 
 face was grimly pitiless. Grana was led away.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 WHICH TELLS HOW A GREAT GAMBLER 
 PLAYED AND LOST 
 
 THE hours were long for Bryan Teige and 
 Red Donell, waiting in the antechamber 
 of the Palace for their mistress who did 
 not come. They had no faith in the honour or 
 justice of the English. Hate and impotent rage 
 surged in their hearts as they became assured that 
 treachery had been practised upon their lady. 
 They paced to and fro among the staring, wide- 
 eyed loiterers, Bryan Teige fingering the hilt of his 
 long sword, Red Donell clenching his huge hands 
 and muttering hideous oaths. With each weary 
 minute that crawled by they drew nearer to some 
 act of mad reckless folly. 
 
 " It is time for us to take a hand ! " Bryan Teige 
 growled. " They have tricked our lady who 
 trusted them in her brave folly. In a little while we 
 will go seek this queen of whom they prate, and 
 give her plain speech that she shall understand ! 
 It will take more than these gay popinjays to bar 
 our way ! " 
 
 " Aye, you speak sense for once, Bryan ! " Red 
 Donell snarled, and glared about him like a trapped 
 bear. 
 
 326
 
 HOW A GREAT GAMBLER LOST 327 
 
 And it is certain that the wild pair would have 
 gone to their deaths, had not Raleigh come to 
 them in the nick of time. 
 
 " Your mistress is biding in the Palace for a 
 while," he said. " Nay, you need have no fear. All 
 will be well with her." 
 
 " Let us see our lady for ourselves ! " Bryan 
 Teige demanded fiercely. 
 
 " That may not be," Raleigh answered quietly. 
 " You will but harm her and yourselves by any 
 violent folly. Cross the river, lads, and bide quietly 
 for a time. It may well be that your lady is safest 
 where she is. For hark ye, lads, there are wild 
 days coming to London. Ye had acquaintance 
 with my Lord Essex in Ireland ? " 
 
 " Aye, once we had speech with him, and I would 
 that I had wrung his neck ! " Bryan snarled. 
 
 "He is on the way to wringing his own ! " 
 Raleigh answered grimly. "It is certain that he 
 meditates a wild folly. The queen and her advisers 
 know it well. They do but give him rope where- 
 with to hang himself, even as a cat plays with a 
 mouse. I think that many heads will fall in but a 
 little while. Here is money for your present needs, 
 my friends, and I charge you to bide quiet ! " 
 
 He had his way with them, as with all men whom 
 he would persuade. There were few indeed who 
 could resist Raleigh's golden voice. He led them 
 from the Palace, and the strange pair, sorely 
 troubled for their lady, took boat and crossed the 
 river. 
 
 Raleigh had spoken no less than truth in regard 
 to Essex. Stricken vanity and disappointed
 
 328 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 ambition had come near to crazing the young earl's 
 once brilliant brain. Since his return from Ireland, 
 since that first unceremonious meeting in her bed- 
 chamber, Gloriana had refused to give him audience. 
 She stripped from him the patents that gave him 
 wealth. She humiliated him in every way. It was 
 rumoured that she purposed to bring him before 
 the Star Chamber. 
 
 Essex could never be a humble suppliant for 
 long. He had written to the queen piteous letters 
 of abasement. He had sent her royal gifts. He 
 had feigned sickness, even to the point of death. 
 He had employed the interest of Bacon and count- 
 less friends. When all shifts had failed him, when 
 it seemed that the royal favour had passed from 
 him for ever, he gave rein to his fiery temper. He 
 raved in public of his wrongs, and it was reported 
 to the queen that he had spoken of her " as an old 
 woman, crooked both in body and in mind." And 
 those words had doomed him. The vanity of 
 Gloriana could find no pardon for them. From that 
 moment it was in her mind that he must die. 
 
 But she gave him rope, even as Raleigh had said. 
 The vain folly of Essex could be trusted to destroy 
 him. He gathered around him at Essex House all 
 the desperate malcontents of London. He sent 
 treasonable proposals to the King of Scotland. He 
 planned to seize Whitehall and the Tower, and to 
 demand justice from the queen, sword in hand. 
 And Elizabeth and her advisers knew, through 
 their spies, of his every word and action. They 
 waited grimly. He was like a deer within a hedge 
 of nets.
 
 HOW A GREAT GAMBLER LOST 329 
 
 The end came with a summons to Essex to appear 
 before the privy-council, and with it a private note 
 reached him from his friends, bidding him flee to 
 safety. Instantly, like the great gambler he was, 
 he flung his last stake upon the board. With his 
 handful of wild followers he would raise London 
 against the queen ! 
 
 It was a Sunday morning. All London was in an 
 uproar. The Palace and the Tower were strongly 
 guarded. The Lord Chancellor and the Lord Chief 
 Justice with their officers had demanded admittance 
 at Essex House. Essex laid hands upon their 
 persons, left them prisoners in his house, and with 
 three hundred men behind him dashed into the 
 streets. They were armed with pistols and with 
 rapiers. As they flung down Fleet Street, they 
 yelled " England is sold to Spain by Cecil and 
 Raleigh ! Citizens of London, arm for England 
 and the queen ! " 
 
 The cry met with little sympathy. London was 
 loyal to Elizabeth. The citizens stared through 
 their windows at the gang of yelling soldiers of 
 fortune led by the slight gallant figure that they 
 had known so well in happier days. Once he had 
 been the idol of London, this handsome boy who 
 waved his naked sword, bareheaded, his bright 
 hair astream, his eyes blazing madly from his white 
 face. Now those who watched knew that he had 
 destroyed himself, that his star had set for ever, 
 that he walked beneath the very shadow of death. 
 There were tears in the eyes of many of the women 
 who saw him pass. 
 
 He must have known himself how scanty of hope
 
 330 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 was his mad scheme. But he had never lacked 
 reckless courage. His lieutenants, Blount and 
 Southampton, were beside him. They sought in 
 vain to raid an armourer's shop. Armed citizens 
 were gathering from all sides, bidding them to 
 surrender. But so far the opposition was leaderless. 
 Essex and his men drove the crowd before them 
 down Fleet Street towards Ludgate Hill. And 
 there the crowd found a leader, and there Essex's 
 last flicker of hope was quenched for ever. 
 
 Bryan Teige and Red Donell were in the crowd. 
 The first rumour of a fight had brought them from 
 their humble lodging near St. Paul's like hounds 
 who hear the huntsman's horn. Midway up Fleet 
 Street they had met the head of Essex's advance, 
 and had been swept back before it. 
 
 " By God, it is the bastard Essex himself ! " 
 growled Bryan Teige. " He has but a handful. 
 By the Red Steel, I bear him no love, but this is a 
 right gay deed that he has dared ! Almost I wish 
 that he were not blood enemy of ours ! " 
 
 " Why do not these curs make head against 
 him ? " grumbled Red Donell, glaring scornfully at 
 the retreating spray of citizens. 
 
 " They make for the hill yonder," Bryan answered. 
 " See, the road is barricaded with chains and 
 waggons ! There Essex will be forced to stand and 
 fight for his very life. Let us hasten thither, Donell ! 
 We have a little score to square against this Essex ! " 
 
 They shouldered through the press and made for 
 Ludgate Hill. Before and behind the barricades a 
 throng of armed men were gathered, but as yet 
 they seemed leaderless, without a plan.
 
 HOW A GREAT GAMBLER LOST 331 
 
 " They are like armed sheep ! " Bryan muttered 
 scornfully. " And like sheep Essex should break 
 them, for all their numbers. God ! God ! am I 
 mad or dreaming ? Who is that yonder, Donell ? " 
 
 He pointed with a hand that shook. Red Donell 
 was staring with dropped jaw. The figure at whom 
 they gazed half turned, and Domhnall 0' Flaherty 
 saw them. 
 
 A half smile lit up his stern eyes, and he sprang 
 towards them and gripped their hands. He was 
 clad in light armour, reddened with sea rust, and 
 his sword was bare in his grip. Bryan Teige and 
 Red Donell glared speechlessly at his face, like men 
 who look upon a corpse that has risen from the 
 grave. 
 
 " Nay, I am no ghost, lads ! " Domhnall said. 
 " I did but land this morning from the Thames. 
 My lady ? Where is she ? Is all well with her ? " 
 
 " The queen holds her in her palace," Bryan 
 answered, his voice hoarse with wonder. " She is 
 well, so far as we may know. But, my lord " 
 
 " My tale will keep," Domhnall said curtly. 
 " But what of this brawl ? I had not thought to 
 find this London so unpeaceful ! Who leads yon 
 crew of ruffians ? " 
 
 " It is Essex, lord," Bryan answered. " He is in 
 arms against the queen." 
 
 There came an odd light to Domhnall's dark eyes. 
 
 " Essex ? That boy ? It would please me well 
 to cross swords once more with him ! And here 
 may be a chance to win pardon for us all ! This 
 mob is in sore need of a captain. Aid me, lads, as 
 you may ! "
 
 332 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 And he swung his blade in the air, and his voice 
 rang out, strident and commanding. It sounded 
 high and clear above the clamorous din. It caught 
 the ears of those bewildered citizens. It was the 
 voice of one who had the natural, magnetic gift of 
 leading men. 
 
 " Steady, lads, and hearken ! " he roared. " This 
 is no fashion in which to face a charge ! " 
 
 The crowd answered to his voice at once. There 
 were men of the trained bands among them. All 
 were used, as was the fashion of those hardy days, 
 to the carrying of arms. They had but lacked a 
 leader. Now they caught eagerly at this promise of 
 a captain. There fell almost silence, and through it 
 there rang cries of " Let this good soldier lead us ! " 
 " We will follow him ! " 
 
 There was but little time. At the end of Fleet 
 Street Essex had halted his men, and was plainly 
 forming them for a charge. His voice rang out, 
 " For the queen ! For the queen ! " He sought 
 vainly to make the crowd believe that his aim was 
 loyal. But his own men were desperate and fiercely 
 eager. From the small windows of the overhanging 
 wooden houses white frightened faces peered. 
 Above the roofs rose up St. Paul's. It was as 
 though London waited, horror-stricken, to see her 
 streets run red. 
 
 In that bare breathing space Domhnall O' Flaherty 
 laboured furiously to gather and stiffen his men. 
 He bade those with pistols line the barricade in 
 case of a repulse. In front of it he formed a rude 
 heavy column armed with swords, axes and cudgels. 
 Bryan and Red Donell seconded his efforts with
 
 HOW A GREAT GAMBLER LOST 333 
 
 savage glee. And his men, these London citizens, 
 were apt material, with good stomachs for a fight. 
 As Essex, his hat raised upon his sword point, led 
 his charge, Domhnall shouted an order, and with a 
 deep roar his column surged behind him to meet 
 the upward rush. 
 
 And in that narrow, filth-strewn street, upon the 
 slippery stones, they met and fought. They yelled 
 and stabbed and cursed. Men grappled and went 
 down together in the press, gripping like dogs at 
 their opponents' throats. Upon either side the 
 fighters were brave. But the advantage of numbers 
 and the hill was with DomhnaH's men. Essex's 
 followers began to break. The fight loosened into 
 a grim series of hand-to-hand scuffles. In the melee 
 Essex and Domhnall came face to face. 
 
 They knew each other. Into the eyes of each 
 came recognition. Essex laughed, wildly, recklessly, 
 and their blades crossed. Both were fine swords- 
 men, but Domhnall was the stronger. He was 
 pressing the other fiercely, in a moment doubtless 
 he must have disarmed him, held him at his mercy, 
 when a heavy rush swept in between them, whirling 
 them apart. And a great roar went up " Raleigh ! 
 Sidney ! Down with the traitors ! Long live the 
 queen ! " 
 
 Helmeted heads were breaking through the 
 crowd. Raleigh and Sir Herbert Sidney had 
 brought up strong reinforcements. Already the 
 heart was out of Essex's men. Now all hope and 
 courage left them. They saw themselves sur- 
 rounded. The red scaffold loomed hideously before 
 their eyes. They thought only of flight.
 
 334 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Many were cut down. Others surrendered, flinging 
 down their arms. Essex himself, with a bare faithful 
 handful, cut his way clear and reached the river. 
 His friends dragged him aboard a boat, and at their 
 wits' end they made for Essex House. In the stern 
 sat Essex, wild-eyed, haggard, two bullet holes 
 through his rich doublet, knowing himself at last 
 ruined beyond all hope of pardon. He had made 
 his final cast and it had failed. 
 
 In that moment he knew, he must have known, 
 that his hours of liberty and of life were numbered. 
 His offences were too gross to be forgiven. His 
 following was scattered. Soon enough he must 
 surrender to the servants of his outraged queen. 
 After that after that he would look upon the sun- 
 shine for but a little while. He looked upon it now 
 as it danced upon the blue ripples of the Thames. 
 And he smiled they say that he smiled, sitting 
 there in the boat, a ruined fugitive. He had all the 
 qualities of a great and gallant gamester. He had 
 lost, utterly, but he knew how to lose. In his time 
 he had condemned other men to die. Now that his 
 own time was come he did not blench. Now that 
 all brilliant dreams were broken, now that he had 
 turned from the shining path of high ambition, he 
 could pass like a gallant gentleman from the bright 
 lit stage. Once ere this he had wondered in what 
 mood a man would wait for the axe at dawn. Upon 
 his own last night of life it is known that he waited 
 with quiet courage, with a level heart.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 WHICH TELLS OF THE GREAT QUEEN'S ENVY 
 
 BRYAN TEIGE, wiping blood and sweat 
 from his forehead, turned sharply at a 
 touch to find Raleigh at his elbow. 
 
 " Gay work, lad, and a good ending/' Raleigh 
 said cheerily. " Who is yonder gentleman who 
 led the charge ? " 
 
 "It is Domhnall O'Flaherty, the husband of 
 my lady," Bryan gasped. He had raged like a 
 gleeful savage in the press, as had Red Donell. 
 
 Raleigh lifted his eyebrows. 
 
 " The husband of the Lady Grana ? " he said. 
 " Did she not think him dead ? But he has done 
 good service. I would have speech with him." 
 
 " If I know aught of the O'Flaherty he will be 
 for ending this work that he has begun," Bryan 
 answered. " That will be more to his mind than 
 empty speech." 
 
 Raleigh smiled. 
 
 " All speech is not empty," he said. " But you 
 are right. Our work is not yet finished. When 
 Essex is taken I will have speech with this gentle- 
 man." 
 
 But of fighting there was no more need. In but 
 a little while Essex and his few remaining followers 
 335
 
 886 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 were hunted down. The chase was hot and pitiless 
 upon their heels, and Essex House, where they had 
 taken shelter, was speedily surrounded. The 
 Lord Chief Justice, and the Lord Chancellor, whom 
 Essex had left as prisoners and had thought to use 
 as hostages, had been released by the traitor 
 Gorges. Sidney, Raleigh and the Lord Admiral 
 brought up artillery to command the house, and 
 then, with beat of drum, called upon Essex to 
 surrender. He appeared upon the roof of his house, 
 and he was at first defiant. He bade his enemies do 
 their worst. Let them if they would blow up his 
 house. He said, " We have made choice rather to 
 die like men, with our swords in our hands, than 
 some nine or ten days hence end our lives on a 
 scaffold." But there were ladies and women 
 beneath his roof. Their cries and terror at sight of 
 the great artillery weakened Essex's resolve. The 
 sight of their distress wrought upon his chivalry. 
 He offered to open the doors upon promise of 
 courteous treatment. This was pledged to him, and 
 he surrendered his sword to the Lord Admiral. 
 With his friends he was taken for the night to Lam- 
 beth Palace. Next day the Tower received them. 
 
 The last scene of the surrender, with its quaint 
 touches of dignified formality, was ended, when 
 Raleigh at last had speech with Domhnall. 
 
 "It is my privilege, sir, to be acquainted with 
 that fair and brave lady, your wife," he said with 
 his own graceful courtesy. " I am Walter Raleigh." 
 
 Domhnall bowed. 
 
 " Sir Walter Raleigh's fame is not unknown to 
 me," he said. " I could wish my sweet wife no
 
 THE GREAT QUEEN'S ENVY 387 
 
 worse fate than she would receive from such 
 chivalry as his. If he could aid me now to win 
 to her, he would place me under obligations that 
 would not be forgotten." 
 
 Raleigh smiled gaily, and clapped him lightly 
 upon the shoulder. 
 
 " I do well believe that it may be arranged, 
 thanks to your own good sword. You have done 
 the State high service, sir, this day. I would have 
 you come with me forthwith to the Palace. The 
 queen will be eager for full tidings of this happy 
 outcome. I will dare to pledge myself that she will 
 not be lacking in gratitude to you, when she has 
 heard my tale." 
 
 DomhnaH's keen thin face softened oddly, and 
 his eyes lost their look of painful strain. 
 
 " I know not how to thank you, Sir Walter," he 
 said. " I am fortunate in the finding of such a 
 friend." 
 
 " There is no gentleman alive who would not be 
 blithe to serve that very noble lady, your wife," 
 Raleigh answered with sober courtesy. " Stately 
 in distress, gallant in all misfortune, I know but 
 one who is her equal among women. And that one 
 is my own dear lady. But let us take boat, my 
 friend. You will not thank me for delay." 
 
 They boarded a wherry, with Bryan Teige and 
 Red Donell at their heels. Raleigh glanced with gay 
 eyes at the grim pair, who had found places in the 
 bows. 
 
 " A brace of stark fighters, I am very sure," he 
 murmured. " I had much ado to restrain their battle 
 hunger even at Court ! " 
 z
 
 388 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 " They love my wife, and are loyal to her past 
 telling," Domhnall answered. He added with some 
 constraint : "I have learned from them that she 
 is held in some wise as a prisoner by the queen." 
 
 Raleigh's eyes grew troubled. 
 
 " Aye, it is true. I aided her to an audience 
 from her Majesty. As you will know, your wife 
 believes you dead. She prayed only that her son 
 might be restored to her. I know not all that 
 passed between her and the queen, but her suit 
 was not successful." 
 
 " It was a plea to which any woman, even a 
 queen, might well have hearkened," Domhnall 
 muttered. 
 
 Raleigh lowered his voice with caution. 
 
 " Aye, but women to women are ofttimes harsh. 
 It is but truth that Gloriana is not by nature cruel. 
 But when her eyes are tortured by the sight of 
 another's youth and beauty ... I have hope, sir, 
 that all may yet be well." 
 
 Domhnall sat silent, with a harsh pain apparent 
 in his eyes. 
 
 " She has no little soul, her Majesty," Raleigh 
 went on in the same low voice. " There is that in 
 her which wakes manhood, which inspires to gallant 
 deeds. We may forget such womanly frailties as 
 jealous vanity, we who have seen her when stark 
 danger presses. In such an hour she drops all 
 littleness, she rises to clean, brave heights, she 
 makes the swords of men to leap from their scabbards 
 for her and England's sakes. Indeed, sir, she has 
 stood for England through many and stormy years. 
 In this affair to-day, when those around her knew
 
 THE GREAT QUEEN'S ENVY 339 
 
 real fear, her courage flamed lionlike. With my 
 own ears I heard her speak of riding out in person 
 against the rebels. She did say that ' not one of them 
 would dare to meet a single glance of her eye, they 
 would flee at the very notice of her approach ! ' In 
 truth she has a spacious greatness, as had her 
 father, and ever she lacks not gratitude to those 
 who have served her well." 
 
 He ended with a glance of sympathy at 
 Domhnall's rigid face, and thereafter spoke no 
 more until the Palace steps were gained. 
 
 Within an antechamber he parted from his 
 companions. 
 
 " I will seek audience with her Majesty, and 
 return as rapidly as may be," he promised, and so 
 hastened away. 
 
 Domhnall sat silent, with clenched hands, with 
 no glance for his servants, through a space of time 
 that seemed eternal, until at last the sight of 
 Raleigh's gallant stately figure brought him with 
 fierce eagerness to his feet. 
 
 Raleigh's face, set now in its courtier mask, told 
 him nothing. 
 
 " Her Majesty will see you. Come forthwith. 
 Her mood is not unpromising. Beyond that, I can 
 pledge you nothing. It is never well to build one's 
 hopes too high, when Gloriana is in question ! " 
 
 The two walked rapidly side by side through 
 lengthy corridors. Domhnall's heart was as lead 
 within him. He believed that Raleigh's words were 
 meant but to prepare him for misfortune. At the 
 door of the queen's closet Raleigh tapped, then 
 motioned to Domhnall to follow him within.
 
 340 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Elizabeth was seated, richly clad as ever, as ever 
 hung with jewels. Her withered, painted face 
 showed signs of strain. But she glanced with some 
 approval at DomhnaU's sinewy, lancelike figure, 
 and she smiled graciously as he knelt and kissed 
 her hand. Gloriana was no mean judge of a man, 
 and ever had liking for those who did not fall below 
 her exacting standard. 
 
 " Rise, sir," she said, " we are beholden to you. 
 Sir Walter tells us that you have served us right 
 well this day." 
 
 Domhnall upon his feet fronted her with grave 
 and steady eyes. 
 
 " Your Majesty is overkind to aught I did," he 
 said. " And Sir Walter Raleigh is my true friend." 
 
 " Nay, he knows a man, as I do," Gloriana 
 retorted briskly. " In these days of graceless and 
 black-hearted traitors, honesty and courage are of 
 value. It is in our mind to reward them, if we may." 
 
 Her voice was kindly, but it held characteristic 
 caution. Gloriana could recognise good service, 
 but she had a horror of over-great expectancy. 
 
 "It is not my habit to seek reward for small 
 service," Domhnall answered. " And yet it is in 
 your Majesty's power to overpay me with lavishness 
 at small cost to yourself." 
 
 " And in what fashion, friend ? " Gloriana asked. 
 Her old eyes were inscrutable. 
 
 " You hold my wife and child " Domhnall 
 
 began, but Elizabeth broke in. 
 
 " How now, rogue ? Do you set wife 'and child 
 before the chance of service to myself ? God's 
 wounds, this is sorry chivalry ! "
 
 THE GREAT QUEEN'S ENVY 341 
 
 Domhnall was no courtier. His tongue was 
 unpractised in the extravagant, sugared flattery in 
 vogue at Gloriana's court. 
 
 " Your Majesty, I owe you little service. I have 
 borne arms against you. My men were scattered, 
 and I myself condemned to die. You see me here, 
 not as your servant, but to pray " 
 
 " And yet to-day you served me, sirrah ! " 
 Gloriana cried. " Sir Walter, you should give this 
 Irish gentleman a lesson in courteous speech ! " 
 
 Raleigh was ill at ease, for DomhnaH's sake. It 
 seemed to him that this interview was going ill. 
 
 " Madam, as you have said, this gentleman has 
 served you well," he said. " For the rest, his eyes 
 are dazzled ! Does a man, new come from darkness, 
 pay honeyed compliments to the glorious sun ! " 
 
 Gloriana laughed, well pleased. 
 
 " What say you, sirrah ? " she asked of Domhnall. 
 
 " I say that I am glad if to-day I served your 
 Majesty," he answered steadily. " Though I have 
 been your foe, I am proud that I have served you." 
 
 " These be sweeter words ! " Elizabeth cried. 
 " But have you no reservations, sir ? " 
 
 " I have but to ask your generosity," Domhnall 
 said. " For long now my heart has ached for the 
 sight of my wife and son. It is in your power to 
 ease that pain." 
 
 " And if I ease it, sirrah, what then ? " the queen 
 cried. " Will you bide here and serve me ? Me- 
 thinks you are a proper man and of tried worth. 
 I have a gentleness for such. You carry a blade 
 that looks right workmanlike, although its sheath 
 be rusted. Will it ever be between my foes and me ? "
 
 342 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 Domhnall did not falter or hesitate. That was not 
 his way, even when life and death hung on a word. 
 
 " Your Majesty has many servants, proud to 
 shield you," he answered. " For me, I have left in 
 Ireland some few broken and scattered men, whose 
 need of me is sore. In honour, in barest honour, 
 I must return to those ragged and starving men." 
 
 Gloriana frowned. 
 
 " So you set those ragged rascals before my 
 service ? And by your own admission you have been 
 my foe. You ask much, sirrah ! What bond have 
 I that you will not stray once more into rebellious 
 paths, you and your bold pirate of a wife ? " 
 
 Domhnall met her angry gaze. 
 
 " While your Majesty lives we will hold to 
 loyalty, we will draw no sword against you, we will 
 restrain our men to peace. To that I pledge my 
 knightly word." 
 
 The queen laughed grimly. 
 
 " While I live, quotha and what of those who 
 come after me ? But God He knows I have ever 
 paid little heed to them myself ! Let them look to 
 the stirring of their own broth ! " 
 
 She sat for a little space gazing at Domhnall with 
 questioning eyes. When she spoke it was abruptly. 
 
 " So they mean much to you, sir, your wife and 
 child more than my favour and all earthly 
 honours ? " 
 
 " More than all honours save my own," Domhnall 
 answered very quietly. 
 
 Again the queen laughed, half sadly, half in 
 mockery, and she beckoned to Raleigh and whispered 
 in his ear. He hastened from the room.
 
 THE GREAT QUEEN'S ENVY 843 
 
 " Bide in my poor presence for a little space, 
 sir, if you have the patience," said Gloriana with 
 a certain grimness. 
 
 And Domhnall bowed, finding no words to say. 
 
 In a brief while Raleigh returned. 
 
 " You may follow Sir Walter, sir," Elizabeth said 
 coldly. " Nay, we will excuse you from the kissing 
 of our hand." 
 
 Domhnall backed in silence from the presence, 
 and followed Raleigh along a corridor. The latter 
 halted before a closed door. He dropped his hand 
 upon Domnnall's shoulder. 
 
 " Go within, friend," he said, and his golden 
 voice held laughter and much friendliness. " I think 
 that you will have no more need of me." 
 
 Domhnall would have striven to find words of 
 gratitude, but Raleigh laughed lightly, and went his 
 way. He was a man for love of whom men died 
 Domhnall watched his gallant figure pass from 
 sight, and then he turned the handle of the door. 
 He passed through it with dry lips and a wildly 
 beating heart. 
 
 But the room was empty. 
 
 Yet even as he stared around him, sick at heart, 
 wondering what this mockery might mean, he 
 heard a little sound. There were two doors that 
 led into the room. The second had opened, and 
 Grana was standing upon the threshold. 
 
 Her face was white and weary, but her eyes, 
 those splendid eyes, held joy, bewildered, marvelling 
 joy. Raleigh had told her with gentle brevity all 
 that needed to be told. The dead for her had come 
 to life. All the long weeks of hopeless anguish were
 
 844 THE REBEL LADY 
 
 forgotten now. Youth smoothed her face once 
 more with its soft fingers as she stood framed in the 
 doorway, with her whole heart upon her trembling 
 lips. 
 
 Just for a moment they stood without speech 
 and looked their fill, for such a moment as is 
 unforgotten while life lasts by man or woman. Then 
 they moved together, Grana half gropingly, with a 
 little choking cry, and he kissed her slim hands, 
 and her lips and eyes and hair. And in their hearts 
 was such happiness as comes only to those who 
 have trodden dark and lonely ways. 
 
 Once again the door opened, and now the queen 
 stood upon the threshold. She thrust a small, gay- 
 clad figure into the room. 
 
 " Go to them, brat, if they have eyes for you ! " 
 she said half roughly. 
 
 Tibot ran to his father and mother, and they 
 caught him and held him between them. 
 
 For a few seconds Elizabeth watched the three, 
 who had forgotten her. There were shadows in 
 her old weary eyes. 
 
 " Fools and their folly ! " she muttered with a 
 strange note of harshness in her voice. " Oh ! but 
 the lucky, lucky fools ! " 
 
 THE END 
 
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