“Every door is held. When they pop out this time——”
“They will have no place to pop into,” said Conachúr. “I have them,” he growled; and he threw his hand in the air and gripped it, as though in that blanched fist he held all that could never escape from him.
“They will fight,” said the captain, “and they are woeful fighters.”
“You are nervous, man,” said Conachúr. “At this hour and after this night,” said the captain, “our men could fly from those three like scared rabbits.”
“I fear that,” said Conachúr.
“They may get away,” said the captain. Conachúr advanced on him so savagely and with such a writhe of feature that the man fell back.
“Dog!” said Conachúr. “If they escape I shall take your head.”
“They are surrounded,” the captain stammered; “they cannot escape.”
“They can escape,” Conachúr roared. “You know they can escape. Your men are cowards and idiots, and what are you? Oh, am I not a thwarted man! Am I not a forsaken king! Where is Cathfa? Where is the druid?” he cried.
“Majesty,” the captain implored, “do not curse us. The great magician is coming.”