often to the spy-hole to see if that shadow was still sitting in
the shade, and pacing thence, tormented, preoccupied, refusing
even the nose of his favourite dog as it pressed lovingly into
his closed palm.

On the morrow he gave in.

The great door was swung wide, and two of his servants carried
Finnian into the house, for the saint could no longer walk or
stand upright by reason of the hunger and exposure to which he
had submitted. But his frame was tough as the unconquerable
spirit that dwelt within it, and in no long time he was ready for
whatever might come of dispute or anathema.

Being quite re-established he undertook the conversion of the
master of the house, and the siege he laid against that notable
intelligence was long spoken of among those who are interested in
such things.

He had beaten the disease of Mugain; he had beaten his own pupil
the great Colm Cille; he beat Tuan also, and just as the latter's
door had opened to the persistent stranger, so his heart opened,
and Finnian marched there to do the will of God, and his own
will.



CHAPTER III

One day they were talking together about the majesty of God and