And now, having been thus forewarned of what was in store for her on the part of Sir Nicholas, Grace O’Malley immediately set about placing the castle in a position of secure defence. To this end, several pieces of the ordnance which had been taken from the captured galleons of the wine fleet, and which had been put on board The Grey Wolf and The Winged Horse, now at Clare Island, were brought across Clew Bay, and mounted on the walls and towers of Carrickahooley, while the gates and the other more vulnerable parts of its fortifications were strengthened. In all these matters we were much assisted by Don Francisco, who had had a large experience of sieges, and was familiar with the onfalls and the outfalls and the other incidents of such warfare. The Spaniard and I therefore were together more than we had ever been before, and towards me he carried himself like the courteous and knightly man he was, while I strove to pattern myself upon him.
That he loved Eva O’Malley I was in no doubt. Indeed, when he assured me, as he frequently did, how glad he was that he had not been able to leave the castle as he had intended doing, and how well pleased he was to have an opportunity of espousing our quarrel with the English, I understood that it was a delight to him to be near her in this our time of peril, for was not that what I also told myself continually?
That he bore a hatred towards England was true, but his love for Eva, as he was to prove, was something far greater than his hatred of the English. Yet already, though I knew it not then, he must have been well aware that she was not for him. But no sign of grief or disappointment did he allow to appear, albeit, always grave, as is the Spanish manner, he seemed still graver before the assault began—and this, when I observed it, I took to mean that he considered our situation was such as called for seriousness.
Whilst our preparations to repel the English were being made, some days elapsed, and, on the fifth of them, Calvagh O’Halloran brought The Cross of Blood into port at Clare Island, where to his great relief, not knowing what had been my fate in Galway, he was told that I was before him at Carrickahooley.
Meanwhile, tidings were being brought us by bands and families of kernes and peasants, fleeing before the enemy, that the English were approaching. And, as they marched northwards through Connaught, the days were red with blood and the nights with fire.
Everywhere their presence was marked by the smoke and flame of homesteads wantonly burned, and by the slaughter of all who fell into their hands, neither the old nor the decrepit, nor the nursing mother, nor the tender maiden, nor the sucking child being left alive!
Among the despairing wretches who flocked to the castle for protection it was impossible to single out the plotters, whose knavery they had themselves unwittingly disclosed in the Whispering Rocks, for everyone apparently was in the same evil case. A close watch, however, was kept on all the men who came in, and who were retained within the walls to help in the defence, while the women and children were conveyed to Clare Island, where they would be in safety.
Don Francisco dropped a half hint that Eva might better be sent to Clare Island until the fortune of battle had declared itself, but I knew that this would seem to her to be of the nature of deserting us at a time of crisis, and so the proposition was carried no further.
And all through the siege she moved a bright, winsome, and always cheerful presence, generally attended by the Wise Man, Teige O’Toole, who constituted himself her body-servant, and who, during this period, uttered no prophecies of evil, but cheered and sustained us with the certainty of victory.