in the king’s tent, when I would have put my knife into Olaf’s heart, but he stopped me. He never told the king, and when he was dying, slain by my hand, he bade me fly before I was taken. None saw me slay him but the little Irish maid, she that is now Lord Thorgills’ wife, and I did see him seal her lips with the sign of the cross that she should never speak of the manner of his death.”
“Poor little Maidoch!” thought Father Tuathal, “Now I marvel not that Thorgills said she feared Thore so greatly.”
“And no one ever knew,” Thore went on, “for she kept her lips shut in silence. She hath been true to her promise.”
“She is of my land,” said Father Tuathal.
“Now thou canst tell the people of my great sin, and thou canst tell the Lady Maidoch that I have confessed it to thee.”
“Nay,” said the priest, “the people will not judge thee now. Thou art going to a just and merciful Judge. As to the Lady Maidoch, of a surety, I will not speak of thy crime to her, for it might seem as if I would unlock the lips so sacredly sealed by the dead. Now think thou of God’s great mercy to thee, and if thou wilt accept the Christ, I will on the morrow pour upon thee the waters of baptism. Then thou canst take all the burden of thy sins to the mercy of thy Saviour.”
For days Father Tuathal attended Thore, instruct-
