hatever fool it is that’s mocking you, he is out yonder in the little currach, going home; and take good heed to yourself, and don’t sleep one wink for three days.”
And for three days the little currach was there before him, and then his mother came to him and said:
“Sleep as much as you want now. He is gone.”
And he went to sleep, and there was heavy sleep on him, and Morraha went in and took hold of the sword that was on the bed at his head. And the sword thought to draw itself out of the hand of Morraha, but it failed. And then it gave a cry, and it wakened Niall, and Niall said it was a rude and rough thing to come into his house like that; and Morraha said to him:
“Leave your much talking, or I will cut the head off you. Tell me the news of the death of Anshgayliacht.”
“Oh, you can have my head.”
“But your head is no good to me. Tell me the story.”
“Oh,” said Niall’s wife, “you must get the story.”
“Oh,” said Morraha, “is the woman your wife?”
“Oh,” said the man, “is it not you that have the story?”