“You have no confidence in us,” said Buinne.
“And none in our father’s word,” said Iollann.
“This woe has come on us because of your father’s word, and he has left us in our danger for a feast,” she raged.
“The whole world,” said Buinne, “knows Fergus mac Roy, and the worth of his protection.—You know it,” he said to Naoise, “although your queen does not.”
“You are right,” said Naoise. “We may go on without misgiving, my dove.”
And they went on.
On their journey the next day they reached Slieve Fuad. Deirdre strayed behind, and in the movement and conversation her absence was not noticed for a long time. Naoise retraced his path from the White Cairn of the Watching, and came on her sleeping in a grassy hollow. When he awakened her she stared and clutched him, and cried wildly and bitterly.
“What is it?” he asked in alarm.
“I have had a vision,” she sobbed. “I have had a dreadful vision.”
“What did you see?”