“Which are our men and which are theirs?” said the captain. “Ours don’t know in this light which is friend and which is enemy. They know,” he said bitterly; “but we are killing one another.”
Two figures detached themselves in the moonlight. They were bounding like great cats, and wherever there was a mass they bounded into it, burst through it, and leaped on.
“Ho, Conachúr!” a voice called. “Do you remember Naoise?”
“Ho, traitor king!” another boomed. “Do you remember Fergus?”
“It is Naoise and Buinne this time,” said the captain.
The two figures leaped at the ramsmen. The ram was dropped and the unarmed crew fled yelling. The door that was being battered opened and shut, and the two figures were gone.
“That’s how it’s done!” said the captain.
“Get to the ram!” Conachúr roared.