The noise of
the stricken ball and the clash of the hurles shod with bronze,
the cries of the captains, and the shouting of the boys, filled
all the air.
That good knight stood midway between the goals, eastward from the
players. Ever and anon with a loud clear voice he reproved the
youths, and they hearkening took his rebukes in silence and obeyed
his words. Cathvah came forth that day upon the lawn, and thus
spoke one of the boys to another in some pause of the game,
"Yonder, see! the Ard-Druid of the Province. Wherefore comes he
forth from his druidic chambers to-day at this hour, such not
being his wont?" And the other answered lightly, laughing, and
with boyish heedlessness, "I know not wherefore; but well he knows
himself." And therewith ran to meet the ball which passed that
way. There was yet a third who watched the boys. He stood afar off
on the edge of the plain. He had a little shield strapped on his
back, two javelins in one hand, and a hurle in the other. He was
very young and fair. He stood looking fixedly at the hurlers, and
as he looked he wept.
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