Moves through the vast hollow sky filled with the dust of the stars:
What boots it the glory of Colum, since he maketh a Sabbath to bless me,
And hath no thought of my sons in the deeps of the air and the sea?
And with that the fly passed from their vision. In the cell was a most wondrous sweet song, like the sound of far-off pipes over water.
Oran said in a low voice of awe, “O our God!”
Keir whispered, white with fear, “O God, my God!”
But Colum rose, and took a scourge from where it hung on the wall. “It shall be for peace, Oran,” he said, with a grim smile flitting like a bird above the nest of his black beard; “it shall be for peace, Keir!”
And with that he laid the scourge heavily upon the bent backs of Keir and Oran, nor stayed his hand, nor let his three days’ fast weaken the deep piety that was in the might of his arm, and because of the glory to God.
Then, when he was weary, peace came into his heart, and he sighed “Amen!”
“Amen!” said Oran the monk.