runk and
merry, and soon there was a great snoring and snorting, and very soon
all the servants fell asleep also, so that Mongan could not get anything
to drink. Mac an Da'v said it was a great shame, and he kicked some of
the servants, but they did not budge, and then he slipped out to the
stables and saddled two mares. He got on one with his wife behind him
and Mongan got on the other with Duv Laca behind him, and they rode away
towards Ulster like the wind, singing this song: The King of Leinster
was married to-day, Married to-day, married to-day, The King of Leinster
was married to-day, And every one wishes him joy.

In the morning the servants came to waken the King of Leinster, and when
they saw the face of the hag lying on the pillow beside the king, and
her nose all covered with whiskers, and her big foot and little foot
sticking away out at the end of the bed, they began to laugh, and poke
one another in the stomachs and thump one another on the shoulders, so
that the noise awakened the king, and he asked what was the matter with
them at all. It was then he saw the hag lying beside him, and he gave a
great screech and jumped out of the bed.

"Aren't you the Hag of the Mill?" said he.

"I am indeed," she replied, "and I love you dearly."

"I wish I didn't see you," said Branduv.

That was the end of the story, and when he had told it Mongan began to
laugh uproariously and called for more wine. He drank this deeply, as
though he was full of thirst and despair and a wild jollity, but when
the Flame Lady began to weep he took her in his arms and caressed her,
and said that she was the love of his heart and the one treasure of the
world.

After that they feasted in great contentment, and at the end of the
feasting they went away from Faery and returned to the world of men.

They came to Mongan's palace at Moy Linney, and it was not until they
reached the palace that they found they had been away one whole year,
for they had thought they were only away one night. They lived
then peacefully and lovingly together, and that ends the story, but
Bro'tiarna did not know that Mongan was Fionn.

The abbot leaned forward.

"Was Mongan Fionn?" he asked in a whisper.

"He was," replied Cairide'.

"Indeed, indeed!" said the abbot.

After a while he continued: "There is only one part of your story that I
do not like."

"What part is that?" asked Cairide'.

"It is the part where the holy man Tibraide' was ill t