. Heroes of the dawn . y entered theroom—which was dimly lit by a single torchand appeared to be empty—the most dreadfulhowls and screeches seemed to rise from thefloor and fill every corner. Caeilte said : Surely this is the abode of demons. Letus go hence. It will be no new thing for usto sleep under the shade of the trees, or gosupperless to our rest. But Fionn turned to Caeilte and said : The Fians never yet turned their backson demons or men, and not now will theybegin. It is not like you, son of Ronan, tohave fear because of a few little howls. It is not the seen I fear to grapple with,b
. Heroes of the dawn . y entered theroom—which was dimly lit by a single torchand appeared to be empty—the most dreadfulhowls and screeches seemed to rise from thefloor and fill every corner. Caeilte said : Surely this is the abode of demons. Letus go hence. It will be no new thing for usto sleep under the shade of the trees, or gosupperless to our rest. But Fionn turned to Caeilte and said : The Fians never yet turned their backson demons or men, and not now will theybegin. It is not like you, son of Ronan, tohave fear because of a few little howls. It is not the seen I fear to grapple with,but the unseen, said Caeilte. By my spear,here is something visible at last. Both he and Oisin pointed with their spearsto the middle of the floor, and Fionn turnedto look. There, before him, stood threefigures: one a tall man, with tangled greyhair and beard—the ugliest man he had everseen; and by his side stood a grim old womanwith three heads, and each of the heads wasyelling most horribly. Hut the third figure. THERE BEFORE HIM STOOD THREE FIOURKs HOUSE OF THE PHANTOMS 155 was more appalling than the other two, for itwas the body of a man without a head, andin the middle of his breast a single eye rolledand turned about, and shone witli a dull greenglare. Fioim, however, was in no way frightenedby these dreadful looking beings, and inquired : What manner of people are you whoshow no pleasure when the chiefs of the Fiannavisit you ? It is the custom of the housesthroughout Ireland to receive us with songsof greeting; with tables laden with venisonand the flesh of the wild boar, and great flow-ing bowls of ale. But you have only howlsand wails for us, and an empty board. The old grey man laughed, and said, as helocked and barred the door: It is not sweet songs and feastings youwill get here, O Fionn. Many a day we havewaited for you, and woven enchantments toget you in our power, and take vengeancefor a wrong you, though perhaps unknow-ingly, did to one of our race. But
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