the day Jarl Ironbeard was slain, Thou dost remember him?”
“Aye! Father Meilge,—I remember him.” Maidoch’s voice was very low.
“Well,” said Thora, “I wot the priest did come to take him. It matters not. He never came to the feast.”
Maidoch did not answer, and as she sat in the silence all the horror of that sacrilegious murder came back to her,—and now her own unprotected position. She rose and hurried back to the cloister.
On the way she met Father Tuathal. He stopped and looked anxiously at her, then spoke with some hesitation: “I would counsel thee, my daughter, to stay close by the noble lady abbess in the convent. I know thou dost only journey forth on errands of mercy, but this is a wild land, and now it is ruled by a heathen overlord and king. The jarls of Erik’s court do say, over their ale—”
“Oh my father!”—Maidoch pleaded, “I have heard what they do say. But my lord will return soon—soon.”
“I pray God he may!”
“And until then I will stay within the convent walls.”
“It were far better for thee, my daughter,” and troubled and anxious, Father Tuathal passed on.
Maidoch walked rapidly back to the convent. More than once she was conscious of the bold stare of some
