came her followers, knight and lady, gay with banner and spear, whispering in their telling of the story.
‘A curse upon the wandering feet that have brought disgrace upon thy house,’ quoth his old love, her hand so tight upon the rein that the two pages could hardly keep the horse from rearing.
But the proud Earl to her made no answer, neither to bid her welcome, nor to bid her go, nor to speak of his fears. Into his breast he locked his grief so that none might know the strain well-nigh broke the stony casket of his heart.
When he leaped from his horse there came to him his little brother.
‘My grief!’ said the boy, ‘what has happened in the night, for I heard the banshee sobbing so bitterly through the dark?’
No answer made the Black Earl to the boy, neither did he lift him in his arms nor chide him for his weeping, but passed silent into his own chamber, and crouched within his chair. When after a time he raised his
