h some tobacco, and began puffing in great
good-humor, for it was long since he had tasted tobacco. Cathbarr
watched in awe, never having seen this done before, so that Brian and
Turlough had great fun with him. All his life the giant had lived in the
mountains and he knew no more than his ax had taught him; though he had
seen men smoke before, he had ever accounted it sorcery of some kind,
nor could Brian get him to as much as touch the pipe with his finger.

Brian was sorry that the wine had proved sour; the butts were huge ones,
and he had counted on their lasting him and his men all the winter
through. However, he dismissed the matter from his mind and fell to
talking with Turlough and Cathbarr over their arrangements in case of an
attack. In the midst, one of the men who had been watching from the
tower ran in to say that he had caught sight of a beacon on the hills,
which meant that the arch-enemy was on the road.

"Good!" exclaimed Brian, springing up. "Turlough, go fetch me that cage
of pigeons. Cathbarr, see that the men are set on the walls--"

He had got no further than this when there came a strange noise from the
doorway. Turning, he saw a man staggering forward, choking as he came,
and recognized him as one of the Bird Daughter's seamen. The fellow held
a bloody sword in his hand.

"What's this?" cried Brian angrily, noting that there was silence upon
the court-yard. "Has there been wrangling again--"

"Death!" coughed the O'Malley, staring at him with starting, terrible
eyes. "Con Teague--I slew him--too--too late--"

"Man, what is forward?" Brian leaped out and caught the seaman in his
arms, for the fellow's head was rolling on his shoulders.

"Death!" whispered the man again. "They are--all dead--"

His head fell back in death, and the sword fell from his hand with a
clatter. But from Cathbarr, who had gone to the doorway, came one
terrible shout of grief and rage.

"Brian! Our men lie dead--"

"I think the Dark Master has sent us a kindly gift," quoth Turlough
Wolf, as Brian rose with horror in his face and let the seaman's body
fall. "Now I know why that wine was sour, master!"

TO BE CONCLUDED NEXT WEEK. Don't forget this magazine is issued weekly,
and that you will get the conclusion of this story without waiting a
month.

Nuala O'Malley

by H. Bedford-Jones

Author of "Malay Gold," "The Ghost Hill," "John Solomon, Supercargo,"
etc.

This story began in the All-Story Wee