rs of Tara in four dense divisions around the
high King, even Conn the Hundred-Fighter.

Finn stood with his back to the palace, which was called the
House-of-the-going-round-of-Mead, between the palace and Conn, and he
grasped the magic spear strongly with one hand and the mantle with the
other.

As midnight drew nigh, he heard far away in the north, out of the
mountains of Slieve Gullion, a fairy tune played, soft, low, and slow,
as if on a silver flute; and at the same time the roar of Conn the
Hundred-Fighter, and the voice of Gaul like thunder, and the responsive
shouts of the captains, and the clamour of the host, for the host
shouted all together, and clashed their swords against their shields in
fierce defiance, when in spite of all obstructions the fairy music of
the enchanter began to steal into their souls. That shout was heard all
over Ireland, echoing from sea to sea, and the hollow buildings of Tara
reverberated to the uproar. Yet through it all could be heard the low,
slow, delicious music that came from Slieve Gullion. Finn put the point
of the spear to his forehead. It burned him like fire, yet his stout
heart did not fail. Then the roar of the host slowly faded away as in a
dream, though the captains were still shouting, and two-thirds of the
torches fell to the ground. And now, succeeding the flute music,
sounded the music of a stringed instrument exceedingly sweet. Finn
pressed the cruel spear-head closer to his forehead, and saw every torch
fall, save one which wavered as if held by a drunken man, and beneath it
a giant figure that reeled and tottered and strove in vain to keep its
feet. It was Conn the Hundred-Fighter. As he fell there was a roar as of
many waters; it was the ocean mourning for the high King's fall. Finn
passed through the fallen men and stood alone on the dark hill-side. He
heard the feet of the enchanter splashing through the Boyne, and saw his
huge form ascending the slopes of Tara. When the enchanter saw that all
was silent and dark there he laughed and from his mouth blew a red
fire-ball at the Teck-Midcuarta, which he was accustomed first to set in
flames. Finn caught the fire-ball in the magic mantle. The enchanter
blew a second and a third, and Finn caught them both. The man saw that
his power over Tara was at an end, and that his magic arts had been
defeated. On the third occasion he saw Finn's face, and recognised his
conqueror. He turned to flee, and though slow was his