There the sons of Usna debated long as to what course to follow. Nathos and Ailne thought it best to move inland, and to gain the protection of the high king of Alba; but Darthool feared this because of a dream she had thrice dreamed, wherein she saw a strange king and a strange folk laughing over the slain body of Nathos, while she stood by crowned but a captive. As for Ardan, he said only that the sons of Usna should go to where their father’s dun had been, before the last king of Alba had destroyed it.
That night a galley came to them from the long island of Lismore. In it were a score of men, commanded by a lord of Appin, named Fergus of the Three Duns. With him was a stranger, clad in a rich robe of fur, so claspt across the throat with gold that the hood he wore fell about and covered his face. While Fergus spake with the sons of Usna, and told them how they had been seen by men of his in a swift war-galley, off the south coast of Mull, and urged them also to go inland to meet the king, the stranger looked steadfastly upon Darthool.
When at last he had to speak to the brothers he addressed them courteously, but in a Gaelic strange to their ears. He bade them come with him to his high-walled dun, a brief way inland: to come alone, as his guests, and to bring Darthool with them.
“It is not well to go to a man’s dun, and not be knowing that man’s name,” said Nathos courteously.
The stranger hesitated, and looked at Fergus.
“They call me Angus Mudartach,” he said. But at that Darthool asked him to let her look upon his face.
“For it is not meet,” she added, “that we should go to a man’s dun and not have seen his face.”
Angus of Moidart drew back his hood.
Darthool’s lips grew pale. Then she smiled.
“Let us rest here for to-night, Angus Mudartach,” she said, “and, if thou wilt come again on the morrow after to-morrow, thou canst take us with thee to thy great dun. But meanwhile we have travelled far and swiftly, and would fain rest: and, as thou seest, the skies are clear, and we want for nothing.”