The bearded giant still wore the long mail-shirt that reached to his knees, and he paused at the doorway with his eyes roving about the hall. Well did Brian know whom he sought, but it was vain, for Cathbarr could not see him where he lay.

Then Brian saw that the ax had been changed, and wondered at it. One of the long, back-curving blades had been rubbed down with files, so that it was very tapering and thin like an ordinary ax-blade, while the other was still the blunt, heavy thing it had always been. Brian read the cunning of Turlough Wolf in that handiwork, and in fact the great ax was thus rendered tenfold more deadly.

The Dark Master waited quietly until Cathbarr began a slow advance up the hall, all eyes fixed on him in no little wonder. Then O'Donnell raised a hand, stopping him.

"Let us have your message, Cathbarr."

The giant halted and dropped the ax-head, leaning on the haft of the weapon. He took his time about replying, however, and his eyes still roved about the hall ceaselessly and uneasily. Then of a sudden he gave over the search, and gazed straight at the Dark Master with a swift word:

"Have you slain him?"

"Slain who, Cathbarr?" queried O'Donnell, with a thin smile.

"Duar na Criosd!" bellowed Cathbarr with sudden fury. "Who but my friend Brian?"

"Oh!" The Dark Master laughed and eased back in his chair. "No, he's still alive, Cathbarr? Is your message from the Bird Daughter in his regard?"

"Yes." Cathbarr fought for self-control, the breast of his mail shirt rising and falling, his bloodshot eyes beginning to circle about the place once more in a helpless and angry wonder.

"O'Donnell Dubh," he went on at last, "Nuala O'Malley sends you this word. Give Brian Buidh over to her, and she will pay you what ransom you demand."

"What alliance is there between Brian and her?" asked O'Donnell softly.

"Brian has given her service, and I have," Cathbarr flung up his head. "Our men lie in Gorumna Castle, there are ships coming from Erris and the isles, and if Brian be slain we shall bear on this hold and give no quarter. We have four hundred men now, and five ships are coming from the North."

The Dark Master gazed quietly at the giant, Vere taking no part in the talk. But Brian, watching also, saw that which brought a mocking smile to O'Donnell's pallid face. Cathbarr had no fear of any man, and lies did not come easily to his lips; when he spoke of the force lying in Gorumna, and of help from Erris, his face gave him away. Brian saw Turlough behind that tale, but Cathbarr was no man to carry it off with success.

"Well," laughed the Dark Master, "none the less shall Brian be slain. Carry back that word to Nuala O'Malley."

Cathbarr's mighty chest heaved like a barrel near to bursting. Brian was minded to break his promise, but Murrough's pistol was at his head, and he could but lie quietly and watch. The giant's face flushed somewhat.

"I have not finished," said he. "My business for the Bird Daughter is done in truth, but now I have to speak a word of my own."

"Let us hear it," returned O'Donnell.

"It is this." Cathbarr drew himself up. "I am more your enemy than is Brian. Let him go, O'Donnell Dubh, and take me in his place, for I love him."

A sudden amazed silence fell on every man there, and but for Murrough's warning hand Brian would have sat up. O'Donnell's jaw fell for an instant, then his head drew in between his shoulders, he put a hand to Vere's arm, and whispered something. The royalist nodded, a grin on his coarse face, and the Dark Master settled back easily. Cathbarr still stood waiting, the ax held out before him, and a glory in his wide eyes.

"I would sooner hold you than Brian," and O'Donnell spoke softly. "If you will to take his place and die in his stead, Cathbarr, then loose that ax of yours."

Brian saw that Cathbarr was lost indeed, for the Dark Master was not likely to give over his pact with the royalists so easily. Cathbarr heaved up his ax with a great laugh, like a child; he brought it down on the stones, but if he had meant to break it the effort was vain. The huge weapon clanged down and bounded high out of his two hands, so that men drew back in awe; but the ax whirled twice in the cresset-light, then fell and slithered over the flagging beneath a table, and no man touched it.

"Take me," said Cathbarr simply.

"Nay," answered the Dark Master calmly, though his eyes flamed, "kneel down."

Cathbarr stood breathing heavily for an instant, then slowly obeyed. Brian saw that his curly beard was beginning to stand out from his face, but no word came from him as he went to his knees.

"Now," went on the Dark Master, "pray me for Brian's life, mighty one."

The giant struggled with himself, for humiliation came hard to him. Then his voice fell curiously low, terrible in its self-restraint.

"I pray you for the life of Yellow Brian, O'Donnell."

Brian forced himself up, thinking to cry out a warning before it was too late; but Murrough's hand closed over his mouth and forced him back relentlessly.

"Bring ropes," said the Dark Master, and ordered Cathbarr to his feet.

Men hastened out, and returned with a length of rope, binding the giant's arms behind his back, from elbow to wrist. Then the Dark Master laughed harshly, but Vere leaned toward him, his face troubled.

"Do not carry this thing farther, O'Donnell," said the royalist hoarsely. "This man is a fool, but he has a great heart. Let be."

For answer the Dark Master whirled on him with such fury in his snarl that Vere drew back hastily, and no more words passed between them at that time. O'Donnell rose and walked down the hall toward Cathbarr, in his hand a little switch that he used upon that wolfhound of his.

"Now," he said softly, yet his voice pierced hard through the dead stillness, "in token that your humility in this affair is without guile, Cathbarr of the Ax, bow your head to me."

The giant obeyed, closing his eyes. The Dark Master lifted his hand and cut him twice across the head with his switch, while Brian gasped in amazement and looked for Cathbarr to strike out with his foot. But although the giant shuddered, he made no move, and the Dark Master strode back to his seat with a laugh. Then Cathbarr raised his face, and Brian saw that it was terribly convulsed.

"Do with me as you wish," he said, still in that low voice. "But now let Brian be freed in my presence."

The Dark Master flung back his head in a laugh, and when the men saw his jest, a great howl of derision rang up to the rafters. Only Vere's officers looked on with black faces, for it was plain that this affair was none of their liking. A look of simple wonder came into Cathbarr's wide-set eyes.

"Why do you not loose him?" he asked quietly.

"Fetch the man out, Murrough," ordered the Dark Master. "Shoot him if he speaks."

Now, whether through some shred of mercy—for he knew well that Brian would cry out—or for some other reason, Murrough leaned down swiftly to Brian's ear.

"Careful," he whispered as he motioned his men forward. "Play the part, and mind that this thing is not yet finished."

The warning came in good time, and cooled Brian's raging impulse. He was lifted from behind the table, his chains clanking, and laid upon it; Cathbarr gave a great start and bellowed out one furious word:

"Dead!"

"Nay," smiled the Dark Master. "His eyes are open, and he is but weak with his wounds, Cathbarr. Now say—would you sooner that we cut off that right hand of his, or blinded him? One of these things I shall do before I loose him, for I said only that I would take your life for his."

Brian saw that the Dark Master was only playing with the giant, for well he knew that Vere wanted to take him back to Galway whole and sound. But Cathbarr knew nothing of this, and as the whole terrible trickery flashed over his simple mind he lifted a face that was dark with blood and passion.

"Do not play with me!" he cried out, his voice deep and angry. "Loose him!"

Then O'Donnell leaned back in his chair, laughing with his men, and waved a careless hand toward Vere.

"He is not mine," he grinned. "I have given him to the royalists, for hanging at Galway. You, however, are now mine to slay."

Whether the Dark Master indeed meant to break his plighted faith, Brian never knew. Cathbarr took a single step forward, his curly beard writhing and standing out, and his whole face so terrible to look on that all laughter was stricken dead in the hall.

"You lied to me!" he cried hoarsely. "You lied to me!"

O'Donnell laughed.

"Aye, Cathbarr. Your master goes back to Galway to be hung—he is out of my hands, but you are in them. However, since I have passed my word on your safe-conduct, I think that I may hold to it."

But the giant had not heard him. Throwing back his head, he gave one deep groan of anguish, and his shoulders began to move very slowly as his chest heaved up. All the while his eyes were fixed on the Dark Master, while the whole hall watched him in awe; not even Brian or O'Donnell himself guessed what that slow movement of Cathbarr's body boded.

"Best put chains upon him, Murrough," said the Dark Master, his teeth shining under his drooping mustache.

Vere cried out in sudden wonder.

"'Fore Gad! Look!"

Then indeed the Dark Master looked, and sprang to his feet, and one great shout of alarm and fear shrilled up from those watching. For as Cathbarr stood there, the veins had suddenly come out on his face and neck, and with a dull sound the ropes had broken on his arms, and he was free.

Murrough rushed forward, and his pistol spat fire. Cathbarr, with his eyes still on the Dark Master, put out a hand and Murrough went whirling away with a dull groan. Then the giant rushed.

O'Donnell did not stay for that meeting, but slipped away like a shadow into his surging men, yelling at them to fire. There were few muskets in the hall, however, and an instant later Cathbarr had reached the table where Vere still sat astounded. He brought down a fist on the royalist's steel cap, and Vere coughed horribly and fell out of his chair with his skull crushed.

Now a musket roared out, and another. But Cathbarr caught up the oaken table and faced around on the men who were surging forward at him; lifting the ten-foot table as though it were paper, he bellowed something and rushed at them, casting the table in a great heave. It fell squarely on the front rank, and then indeed fear came upon the hall. For Cathbarr's foot had struck against his ax, and he rose with it in his hand.

There was a din of screams and shouts, for half the men were struggling to get out of the hall and the rest were rushing to get at Cathbarr. Another musket crashed, and in the smoke Brian saw the giant stagger, recover, and go bellowing into the crowd.

Brian struggled from the table, groaned with pain, and then stood watching. He could walk, but his weakness and the chains on his wrists and ankles hindered him from being of any advantage to Cathbarr, though he lifted his voice in a shout of encouragement.

Cathbarr heard the shout, and roared out with delight. A musket-ball had cut across his forehead, and with the blood dripping from his beard he looked more like a demon than a man. The huge ax flashed in the smoky light, and before it men groaned and shrieked and gave back; it cleaved steel and flesh, or smashed helms and heads together, and the Dark Master had slipped from the place, so that his men had no leader.

Over the roar of fear-mad men, over the storm of shrieks and shouts, over the dust and smoke, rose the mighty bellow of Cathbarr and the thudding blows of his ax. The royalist officers were fighting around the doorway, while O'Donnell's men were trying to make head against the giant, but he swept through them like a whirlwind, awing them more by his ferocious aspect and his mad rage than by the half-seen effect of his terrific strength.

Little by little they eddied out from the door. Men lay all about, tables were overturned, and through the crowd swirled the terrible ax, leaving a path of dead in its wake. Brian staggered to the motionless form of Colonel Vere, and reaching down drew a pistol from the dead man's belt. His strength was flooding back to him, and in spite of the agony caused by every movement, he clanked slowly down toward the door. At sight of his chained and bandage-swathed figure a wild shriek welled up, and when he laughed and fired into the midst of them all opposition ceased.

Cathbarr still sought the Dark Master, raging back and forth, smiting and smiting with never a pause in the flaillike sweep of his long arms. He saw Brian standing there, and emitted a wild bellow of joy, but never ceased from his smiting. Out through the door poured a stream of maddened figures, for blind panic had come on every man there, and Cathbarr's was not the only weapon that drew blood as the men fought for exit.

Brian laughed again, for now he knew that he would die in no long time, but it would not be under the torturers. Cathbarr cleared the hall, sent the last man flying out with an arm lopped from him, and swung to the huge doors after kicking two or three bodies from his way. When the beam had dropped into place and they were alone with the dead and dying, he turned to Brian and flung out his arms.

"Careful!" exclaimed Brian, seizing his hand. "None of your bear-hugs, old friend," and he swiftly told of his tortures. Tears ran down the giant's blood-strewn face as he listened, and with the tenderness of a woman he picked up Brian and carried him back to a table, setting him on it.

"First for these chains, brother," he cried, going back for his ax. "We may yet win out against these devils."

"Small chance," smiled Brian grimly. "I cannot swing a blade, and we cannot hold this hall for long. Besides, you have some wounds."

Cathbarr roared out a laugh, exuberantly as a boy, and carefully spread Brian's legs open on the table."Hold quiet!" he cautioned, and swung up the ax. Down it flashed, the thinner blade sheared through the chain an inch from Brian's ankle and split the oak beneath, and Cathbarr drew back for a second blow.

Four times he struck, and the blows smote off the chains from each wrist and ankle, although the locked rings still remained. But Brian was free, and when he gained his feet he found the exercise had somewhat loosened his muscles, and he picked up a sword.

"We can at least die fighting, Cathbarr," he said, and looked into the giant's eyes. "And, brother, I thank you."

"Nonsense!" blurted out Cathbarr, wiping the blood from his eyes and grinning through his beard. "Turlough Wolf has our men hidden around this royalist camp, and the Bird Daughter has a boat outside the castle. We cannot get through the royalists, but there is a chance that we can get to the shore. Besides, she has ships and men coming from her kinsmen in the North. Now, how shall we get away?"

Brian shook his head. "I can hardly walk, Cathbarr, to say nothing of swimming or fighting. There is a rear door out of the hall, yonder, but no use trying it."

"Perchance I have still some strength," grinned Cathbarr, picking up his ax. "Let us have a look at that rear door, before they come at us with muskets."