e ship that was to bear them away their
curragh sprang a sudden leak, and they were all drowned. That was the
melancholy end of the five chief goldsmiths of Eirinn.

Every morning at daybreak trumpets were blown outside the mansion of
the Keeper of the Key. The gates of a courtyard swung open and out
marched an armed guard, men in saffron kilts, bearing spears and swords.
They formed up before the flight of marble steps. A second fanfare of
the trumpets, and back swung the great oaken door, disclosing the Keeper
of the Key in his bright silks and cocked hat. Out he would come on the
doorstep, no attendants by him, and pulling to the great door by the
famous knob he would descend the marble steps, the guard would take up
position, and, thus escorted, he would cross the drawbridge of the moat
and enter the town of the Seven Sisters, marching through the streets to
the great well. People would have gathered there even at that early
hour, women bearing vessels to secure their supply of the water, which,
it was said, had an especial virtue when taken at the break of day. No
mortal was allowed nearer than fifty yards to the well while the Keeper
proceeded to unlock the lid. His guard would stand about, and with a
haughty air he would approach the well solus. The people would see him
make some movements, and back would slide the enormous lid. A blow on
the trumpets proclaimed that the well was open, and the people would
approach it, laughing and chattering, and the Keeper of the Key would
march back to his mansion in the same military order, ascend the steps,
push open the great door, and the routine of daily life would ensue. For
the closing of the well at sundown a similar ceremony was observed. The
only additional incident was the marching of a crier through the
streets, beating great wooden clappers, and standing at each street
corner calling out in a loud voice: "Hear ye people that the lock is on
the Seven Sisters. All's well!"

In those days there was a saying among the people which was in common
usage all over Ireland. When a man became possessed of any article or
property to which he had a doubtful title his neighbours said, with a
significant wag of the head, "He got it where the Keeper gets the Key."
This saying arose out of a mysterious thing in the life of the Keeper of
the Key. Nobody ever saw the secret key. It was not in his hands when he
came forth from the mansion morning and evening to fulfil his great
offi