“Ay, he knoweth it, and can hear it, too, from Murtagh, who died this night.”
“Look!”
And at that Colum looked, and in a moon-gold wave he saw Black Angus, the seal-man, drifting dark, and the eyes in his round head were the eyes of love. And beside the man-seal swam a woman fair to see, and she looked at him with joy, and with joy at the Moon-Child that was her own, and at Colum with joy.
Thereupon Colum fell upon his knees and cried,—
“Give me thy sorrow, wild woman of the sea!”
“Peace to you, Colum,” she answered, and sank into the shadow-thridden wave.
“Give me thy death and crucifixion, O Angus-dhu!” cried the Saint, shaking with the sorrow.
“Peace to you, Colum,” answered the man-seal, and sank into the dusky quietudes of the deep.
“Ah, bitter heart o’ me! Teach me the way to God, O little child,” cried Colum the old, turning to where the Moon-Child was!
But lo, the glory and the wonder!