He considered for some minutes—then a strange bitter expression crossed his face.
“I see it all!” he exclaimed. “It was a design on her part—she left the place purposely. She knew, if you wandered about at all, you could not fail to wander in there—it was a trick to be rid of you, once and for all.”
The girl looked at him in horror.
“Cormac, we are Christians, and our Christian boast is Love and Charity. Yet you have not sufficient charity to grant the conversion of one poor soul. I tell you Ethne is changed—she is a Christian!”
Cormac was frowning, pacing up and down the cave, scarcely listening to his companion. He gave no thought to Ethne—all his thought was for Elgiva. He paused.
“You are beautiful, Elgiva—and you, I know, are as virtuous as only a Christian maid can be. I will not take you back to a woman, vile, infamous and treacherous as a serpent.”
“Then will I walk back alone—ay, through a thousand daggers!” exclaimed the Saxon. “Ethne is not vile and treacherous, and she is as a sister to me—as desirous as I myself of rescuing my mother. You are ungenerous, Cormac of Fail—unworthy the name of your father. Ah! I wish I had men and warriors—I wish I had an ancient name to which to rally followers—and that I might go and rescue my mother without your help.”
Cormac stared at her.
“Why—why did I leave Ethne’s side to-day, and why could not some other come and rescue me instead of you?”
It was seldom Elgiva gave way to tears. Now she threw herself down on a heap of stones and sobbed.