'Why, Conall the Victorious, are you giving away your sword as well as your name to this youth?'
'That may be. Let him be called Victorious. He will give his birth name to no one.'
'How so?'
'He refuses to tell me or any man.'
'I pray thee, tell me the name of the conqueror of Conall the Victorious,' said the new-comer, turning his face still smiling upon Conla.
At first the youth could not speak, but lost his tongue by looking long into the man's face, he knew not why. The smile of the man had annoyed him, yet he was fascinated also. He on his part seemed to be looking at Conla in the same way, and neither spoke for a little time. The elder was the first to speak. He began slowly, as if thinking of something else.
'Tell me thy name, young man, for even our enemies do not conceal their names; and, as for thee, I have a feeling that thou mightest be a dear companion to me, though thou hast begun by damaging my cousin, Conall. If it had been possible I should have said that I had known thee long ago. But long ago thou wast only an infant.'
'Chieftain,' said Conla, 'I cannot tell my name. Yet if I could for any man break my promise not to tell, it would be, I think, for thee. I also think like thee: "If it had been possible, I should have said that I had known thee long ago." Cease then to ask me…'
'It is possible,' interrupted the man, 'tell me, wert thou ever in Scotland?'
'I was.'
'Didst thou know there one called Eefa, a queen in those wild glens?'
'Chieftain, I cannot answer. I am what thou seest me,
