_, and when these royalists get into their cups
again they'll forget all that is in their heads. Here's a cup of wine
before ye go, and another for myself. _Slainte!_"

"_Slainte_," repeated Brian, and went forth to play his part.

When the four men, with Red Murrough at their head, carried him down
into the great hall, Brian found it no little changed. Tables were set
along the walls, each of them being some ten feet in length by two wide,
of massive oak, and in the center was another at which sat O'Donnell,
Colonel Vere, and one or two other officers. Besides these there were a
score more of the royalist officers mingled with the Dark Master's men,
and it seemed that there would be few sober men in that hall by
midnight, from the appearance of things. Only the ten Scots stood calm
and dour before the fireplace.

After that first quick glance around, Brian lay with his head back and
his eyes closed, careful not to excite O'Donnell's suspicion that he was
stronger than he seemed. He was set down in front of the ten Scots, and
there was an eager craning forward of men to look at him, for his name
was better known than himself.

"Zounds!" swore Vere thickly. "The man has a strong and clean-cut face,
O'Donnell! Strike me dead if he does not look like that painting of
O'Neill, the Tyrone Earl, that hangs in the castle at Dublin! Though for
that matter there is little enough of his face to be seen. You must have
borne hardly on him with your cursed tortures."

"I fancy he is an O'Neill bastard," returned the Dark Master lightly.
Brian felt the red creep into his face, but he knew that he was helpless
in his chains, and he lay quiet. "Is he your man, Vere?"

"How the devil should I know?" Vere turned to the troopers and spoke in
English. "Well, boys, is this the fellow we're after? Speak up now!"

"It's no' sae easy tae ken," returned one cautiously. "Yon man has the
look o' Brian Buidh, aye."

"Devil take you!" cried Vere irritably. "Do you mean to say yes or no?
Speak out, one of you!"

"Weel, Colonel," answered another cannily, "Jock here has the right of
it. I wouldna swear tae the pawky carl, but I'd ken the een o' him full
weel. An I had a peep in his een, sir. I'm thinkin' I'd ken their
de'il's look. Eh, lads?"

Since it seemed agreed that they would know Brian better by his hard
blue eyes than by what they could see of his face, the exasperated Vere
commanded that he be made open them if he were unconscious