knees, drops of water stood upon his brow. But a light of peace subdued all torment in his calm eyes.
Thus Laurence, son of Ivar, gained the victory of pilgrimage and devotion and penance. He seemed to the kneeling throng that filled the room to draw no breath, as the tremulous chaplain, bending down, anointed him for his entrance into the company of the Saints. While the words of absolution quivered upon the lips of the ministrant, the Bishop fell forward upon his face.
"A spirit of pure chastity has departed from among us," said Turlogh, solemnly blessing himself as he rose to his feet.
"A tower of magnanimity and a treasury of wisdom in these parts," responded the confessor.
"A bestower of rich presents and a chief conservator of the canons of the Church," added one of the priests.
The sound of the women's lamentations without came into the chamber of death, Turlogh put his hand upon his sword, and drew it forth, and kissed the cross upon its hilt.
"His lightest wish for his burial will be a law to me and to the people of my house." He spoke the words slowly, and his armed men, hearing them, lifted their heads in the air.
III
In the noon hour Dunbeekin stood again under the grey sky, deserted and soundless.
Old Turlogh, girt as no man had seen him before, with iron upon his breast and a cap of shining steel drawn over his whitened locks, had gathered all who belonged to him in the bawn, and spoken to them from where he stood on the stone of the broken well.
