etter than they in anything. Soon there
would be nothing left for daily distribution, and her heart almost
broke as she saw the misery of her helpless dependents; they looked to
her as an angel of pity and deliverance, while she knew herself to be
as helpless as they. Day by day Cathleen went among them, with her
pitifully scanty doles of food, cheering them by her words and
smiles, and by her very presence; and each day she went to her chapel,
where she could cast aside the mask of cheerfulness she wore before
her people, and prayed to the Blessed Virgin Mary and all the saints
to show her how to save her own tribe and all the land.

[Illustration: "Day by day Cathleen went among them"]

Cathleen Has an Inspiration

As the Countess knelt long before the altar one noontide she passed
from her prayers into a deep sleep, and sank down on the altar steps.
In the troubled depths of her mind a thought arose, which came to her
as an inspiration from Heaven itself. She awoke and sprang up
joyfully, exclaiming aloud: "Thanks be to Our Lady and to all the
saints! To them alone the blessed thought is due. Thus can I save my
poor until the dearth is over."

Then Cathleen left her oratory with such a light heart as she had not
felt since the terrible visitation began, and the gladness in her face
was so new and wonderful that all her servants noticed the change, and
her old foster-mother, who loved the Countess with the utmost
devotion, shuddered at the thought that perhaps her darling had come
under the power of the ancient gods and would be bewitched away to
Tir-nan-og, the land of never-dying youth. Fearfully old Oona watched
Cathleen's face as she passed through the hall, and Cathleen saw the
anxious gaze, and came and laid her hand on the old woman's shoulder,
saying, "Nay, fear not, nurse; the saints have heard my prayer and put
it into my heart to save all these helpless ones." Then she crossed
the hall to her own room, and called a servant, saying, "Send hither
quickly Fergus my steward."

She Summons her Steward

Shortly afterwards the steward came, Fergus the White, an old
grey-haired man, who had been foster-brother to Cathleen's
grandfather. He had seen three generations pass away, he had watched
the change from heathenism to Christianity, and of all the chief's
family, to which his loyal devotion had ever clung, there remained but
this one young girl, and he loved her as his own child. Fergus did
obeisance