Celtic Fairy Tales | Page 7

had, it was that way they made it.
Some of them were riding on an old besom, and some on a broken stick,
and more on a bohalawn or a hemlock-stalk.
The good people called out together when they heard what Guleesh

said:
"Oh! Guleesh, you clown, you thief, that no good may happen you,
why did you play that trick on us?"
But they had no power at all to carry off the girl, after Guleesh had
consecrated her to himself.
"Oh! Guleesh, isn't that a nice turn you did us, and we so kind to you?
What good have we now out of our journey to France. Never mind yet,
you clown, but you'll pay us another time for this. Believe us, you'll
repent it."
"He'll have no good to get out of the young girl," said the little man that
was talking to him in the palace before that, and as he said the word he
moved over to her and struck her a slap on the side of the head. "Now,"
says he, "she'll be without talk any more; now, Guleesh, what good will
she be to you when she'll be dumb? It's time for us to go--but you'll
remember us, Guleesh!"
When he said that he stretched out his two hands, and before Guleesh
was able to give an answer, he and the rest of them were gone into the
rath out of his sight, and he saw them no more.
He turned to the young woman and said to her: "Thanks be to God,
they're gone. Would you not sooner stay with me than with them?" She
gave him no answer. "There's trouble and grief on her yet," said
Guleesh in his own mind, and he spoke to her again: "I am afraid that
you must spend this night in my father's house, lady, and if there is
anything that I can do for you, tell me, and I'll be your servant."
The beautiful girl remained silent, but there were tears in her eyes, and
her face was white and red after each other.
"Lady," said Guleesh, "tell me what you would like me to do now. I
never belonged at all to that lot of sheehogues who carried you away
with them. I am the son of an honest farmer, and I went with them
without knowing it. If I'll be able to send you back to your father I'll do

it, and I pray you make any use of me now that you may wish."
He looked into her face, and he saw the mouth moving as if she was
going to speak, but there came no word from it.
"It cannot be," said Guleesh, "that you are dumb. Did I not hear you
speaking to the king's son in the palace to-night? Or has that devil made
you really dumb, when he struck his nasty hand on your jaw?"
The girl raised her white smooth hand, and laid her finger on her
tongue, to show him that she had lost her voice and power of speech,
and the tears ran out of her two eyes like streams, and Guleesh's own
eyes were not dry, for as rough as he was on the outside he had a soft
heart, and could not stand the sight of the young girl, and she in that
unhappy plight.
He began thinking with himself what he ought to do, and he did not
like to bring her home with himself to his father's house, for he knew
well that they would not believe him, that he had been in France and
brought back with him the king of France's daughter, and he was afraid
they might make a mock of the young lady or insult her.
As he was doubting what he ought to do, and hesitating, he chanced to
remember the priest. "Glory be to God," said he, "I know now what I'll
do; I'll bring her to the priest's house, and he won't refuse me to keep
the lady and care for her." He turned to the lady again and told her that
he was loth to take her to his father's house, but that there was an
excellent priest very friendly to himself, who would take good care of
her, if she wished to remain in his house; but that if there was any other
place she would rather go, he said he would bring her to it.
She bent her head, to show him she was obliged, and gave him to
understand that she was ready to follow him any place he was going.
"We will go to the priest's house, then," said he; "he is under an
obligation to me, and will do anything I ask him."
They went together accordingly to the