for it was the first hint Brian had given him of what lay behind
his nickname.

"Aye!" laughed Brian as the wine warmed him. "And it shall bear the Red
Hand of Tyr-owen, old Wolf; but first to catch the Dark Master. Now let
us go, for we shall ride to the Stone Mountain and see what haps there."

Upon that they rode forth from the town, and all the townfolk bade the
crafty Turlough farewell, and gave him gifts for warning them against
the "plunderers." Turlough looked up at the two bodies swinging in the
wind as they passed the church-tower, and put his tongue in his cheek,
but Brian said no more on the subject.

That night they camped outside the town, and Brian bought all the
provision that the people would sell. This he loaded on the spare
horses, and the next morning they set off for the north.

* * * * *

Now, in that fighting by Lough Conn, Brian had taken a shrewd clip which
had reopened the bullet-tear over his scalp. Added to this, he was not
yet in all of his former strength, and the hard ride to Tobercurry had
set his blood to heating; wherefore it was that before coming to Sligo
Brian was heavy with fever and was shaken with chill. A hard snow was
driving through the night, and Turlough sent most of the men around the
city to wait for them on the other side the Garravogue to avoid danger.

There was no garrison in Sligo, however. The old castle which Red Hugh
O'Donnell had fought over in the old days was ruined; the grand
monastery, built by Brian of Tyr-erril, had been burned by Hamilton's
men, together with the town itself, and Sligo was well-nigh desolate.
Turlough got shelter in a hovel, however; managed to put Brian into a
miserable bed, and gave him a brew to drink. With the morning Brian
found his fever gone, but weakness was on him.

They stayed in Sligo town all that day and the next night, and upon
dawn, Brian insisted on riding north once more, against Turlough's
protests. However, no ill came of it, for Brian was well used to riding,
and the exercise gave him strength, though they made but a short march
that day past the round tower of Drumcliff, halting in the hills.

As Turlough Wolf knew where the Stone Mountain was they had no use for
guides. It lay only another day's march ahead of them, and there was
some danger that their quarry would descry their coming and flee away to
Millhaven.

"This is my rede, master;" said Turlough, "that you and I ride ahead