Whereupon Dryantore removed the spells, and the heroes regained their strength and courage.

Dara then played a low, sweet tune; and Dryantore, who had never before heard such music, listened with delight and wonder. He was so charmed that he called Ailna and Glanlua, that they also might hear; and they were as much delighted as the giant. But what pleased Glanlua most was to see the heroes restored to their wonted cheerfulness.

Now all this time the Fena were seeking among the glens and hollows of the mountain for Finn and Dara. After walking for some time over a stony and rugged way, a faint strain of music struck on their ears. They stopped to listen, breathless; and every man knew the sound of Dara's timpan; and they raised a shout of gladness, which reached Finn and Dara in their dungeon. At the same moment they came in view of the palace, and they drew their swords and put their shields and spears in readiness, as men do going to battle. And they went forward warily, for they feared foul play, and their hearts had a forecast that a foe was near. But, indeed, they little deemed what manner of foe they should meet.

When Dryantore heard the shouts, he hid himself from the view of the Fena, and forthwith betook him to his magic arts. And again the spell fell on the two heroes, and their strength departed; and Dara's hand, losing its cunning, trembled on the strings, so that his music became dull and broken.

And when Dara's music ceased, the Fena heard a low, hoarse murmur, which, growing each moment louder, sounded at last like the hollow roar of waves. And anon their strength and their swiftness left them, and they fell to the ground every man, in a deep trance as if they slept the sleep of death.

Then Dryantore and Ailna came forth, and having bound them one by one in strong, hard fetters, they roused them up and led them helpless and faltering to the dungeon, where they shut them in with Finn and Dara.

The Fena looked sadly on their king; and he, on his part, shed bitters tears to think that he had decoyed them—though, indeed, he had done so unwittingly—into the hands of their foe.

In the midst of their sighs and tears they heard the loud voice of the giant, who, looking in on them from the open door, addressed them—

"Now at last, ye Fena, you are in my safe keeping. Truly you have done great deeds in your time, but yet, methinks, you will not be able to escape from this prison till I have taken just vengeance on you for slaying Mergah of the Sharp Spears, and my two sons, at the battle of Knockanare!"

And having so spoken, he shut the door and went his way.