"And father, Nial, and father? Is he in, or is he out upon the hill, with the gloom upon him this night again?"
"It will be a strange thing that I am telling you, Sorcha-nighean-Thorcall, but one that will be glad and warm in your heart."
"Speak."
"There is ... there is peace now between Màm-Gorm and the woman Anabal, that is mother of Alan."
"Peace!—oh, Nial! To Himself the praise of it! Oh, glad I am at the good thing that you say! Sure, glad am I!"
"It is true. Ay, and he has gone over to Tornideon, and will sleep this night at Ardoch-beag."
Sorcha stared bewildered. Even her joy at the news, which meant so much for her and Alan, was forgotten in sheer amaze. Her father go to Tornideon! her father asleep at Ardoch-beag!
Words of his came to her remembrance: she, too, muttered, "My soul swims in mist."
"Nial, is this—a true thing?..."
"Ay."