The sheehogue, whom the Pope did not see, began to cast fire and flame out of his mouth, and the Pope thought that the room was all in a blaze. He cried out: "Oh, eternal destruction! I'll give you the pardon; I'll give you anything at all, only stop your fire, and don't burn me in my own house."
The sheehogue stopped the fire, and the Pope had to sit down and write a full pardon for the priest, and give him back his old place again, and when he had it ready written, he put his name under it on the paper, and put it into Guleesh's hand.
"Thank your honour," said Guleesh; "I never will come here again to you, and bannacht lath (good-bye)."
"Do not," said the Pope; "if you do I'll be ready before you, and you won't go from me so easily again. You will be shut up in a prison, and you won't get out for ever."
"Don't be afraid, I won't come again," said Guleesh. And before he could say any more the sheehogue spoke a couple of words, and caught Guleesh's hand again, and out with them. Guleesh found himself amongst the other sheehogues, and his horse waiting for him.
"Now, Guleesh," said they, "it's greatly you stopped us, and we in such a hurry; but come on now, and don't think of playing such a trick again, for we won't wait for you."
"I'm satisfied," said Guleesh, "and I'm thankful to ye; but tell me where are we going."
"We're going to the palace of the king of France," said they; "and if we can at all, we're to carry off his daughter with us."
Every man of them then said, "Rise up, horse;" and the horses began leaping, and running, and prancing.
