Patsy had no knowledge of what the mother of Louise was like, but the
likeness between her cruel, material, selfish spirit and Queen Moira, in
the sacrifice of their offspring, provoked the admiration of the Young
Doctor, whose philosophical mind had soon discovered that Patsy was
making up the tale.
That did not matter. Having got the thing started, Patsy gave reins to
his imagination; and storm, terror, danger, and the capture of Fiona by
Filion, from Black Brian's castle in the hills, was told with primitive
force and passion. But the most wonderful part of the story described how
a strange dwarfed Little Man came out of the hills in the East, across
the land, to the Western fastness of Black Brian, and there slew that
evil man, because of an ancient feud--slew him in a situation of great
indignity, and left him lying on the sands for the tide to wash him out
to the deep and hungry sea. Even here Patsy had his inspiration from real
life; and yet he disguised it all so well that no one except the Young
Doctor even imagined what he meant.
Under the tree Orlando listened with strained attention, absorbed and, at
times, almost overcome. His long sigh of relief was joined to the sighs
of the others when Patsy finished. The Young Doctor rose to go, and the
others rose also.
"That's a wonderful story, Patsy," said the Young Doctor to him; and he
added quizzically: "You tell it so well because you've told it so often
before, I suppose?"
"Aw, well, that's it, I expect," answered the Irishman coolly.
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