“Are you sure?” said Fionn in a voice that rumbled and vibrated like thunder.
“It is the Carl,” said the watcher, “and the dust behind him is Cael of the Iron trying to catch him up.”
Then the Fianna gave a roar of exultation, and each man seized his neighbour and kissed him on both cheeks; and they gripped hands about Fionn, and they danced round and round in a great circle, roaring with laughter and relief, in the ecstasy which only comes where grisly fear has been and whence that bony jowl has taken itself away.
CHAPTER VIII
The Carl of the Drab Coat came bumping and stumping and clumping into the camp, and was surrounded by a multitude that adored him and hailed him with tears.
“Meal!” he bawled, “meal for the love of the stars!”
And he bawled, “Meal, meal!” until he bawled everybody into silence.
Fionn addressed him.
“What for the meal, dear heart?”