"The woman is Eileen Ni Cooley," replied Mary, "for I know her walk, but I don't know the shape of the men."
Caeltia laughed quietly to himself.
"The taller of these men," said he, "is the Seraph Cuchulain, the other man is that Brien O'Brien we were telling you of."
Mary's face flamed, but she made no remark.
In a few minutes these people drew near.
Eileen Ni Cooley was dishevelled. Her shawl hung only from one shoulder and there were holes in it, her dress was tattered, and a long wisp of red hair streamed behind her like a flame. Her face was red also, and her eyes were anxious as they roved from one to the other.
She came directly to the girl and sat beside her; young Cuchulain set himself down beside Art, but Brien O'Brien stood a few paces distant with his fists thrust in his pockets and he chewing strongly on tobacco. Every now and then he growled a harsh creak of a laugh and then covered it ostentatiously with his hand.
"God be with you, Mary Ni Cahan," said Eileen Ni Cooley, and she twisted up her flying hair and arranged her shawl.
"What's wrong with you?" said Mary.
"Where's your father?" said Eileen.