lie!" Jamie said, indignantly.

"Well, me bhoy, there must b' quite a wheen, thrainin' fur me belt in
Anthrim!"

"There's something in that, Hughie!"

"Aye, somethin' Hughie Thornton didn't put in it!"

We youngsters were irritated and impatient over what seemed to us
useless palaver about minor details. We wanted the story and wanted it
at once, for we understood that Hughie went to bed with the crows and we
stood in terror lest this huge bundle of pockets with its unearthly
voice should vanish into thin air.

"D'ye know McShane?" he asked.

"Aye, middlin'."

"Ax 'im what Hughie Thornton towld 'im wan night be th' hour ov midnight
an' afther. Ax 'im, I say, an' he'll swear be th' Holy Virgin an' St.
Peether t' it!"

"Jist tell us aanyway, Hughie," Anna urged and the beggar-man proceeded.

"I was be th' oul Quaker graveyard be Moylena wan night whin th' shadows
fell an' bein' more tired than most I slipt in an' lay down be th' big
wall t' slape. I cros't m'self seven times an' says I--'God rest th'
sowls ov all here, an' God prosper th' sowl ov Hughie Thornton.' I wint
t' slape an' slept th' slape ov th' just till twelve be th' clock. I was
shuk out ov slape be a screech that waked th' dead!

"Och, be th' powers, Jamie, me hair stud like th' brisels on O'Hara's
hog. I lukt and what m' eyes lukt upon froze me blood like icicles
hingin' frum th' thatch. It was a woman in a white shift, young an'
beautiful, wid hair stramin' down her back. She sat on th' wall wid her
head in her han's keenin' an' moanin': 'Ochone, ochone!' I thried to
spake but m' tongue cluv t' th' roof ov m' mouth. I thried t' move a
han' but it wudn't budge. M' legs an' feet wor as stiff and shtrait as
th' legs ov thim tongs in yer chimley. Och, but it's th' prackus I was
frum top t' toe! Dead intirely was I but fur th' eyes an' th' wit behint
thim. She ariz an' walked up an' down, back an' fort', up an' down, back
an' fort', keenin' an' cryin' an' wringin' her han's! Maan alive, didn't
she carry on terrible! Purty soon wid a yell she lept into the
graveyard, thin she lept on th' wall, thin I heerd her on th' road,
keenin'; an' iverywhere she wint wor long bars of light like sunbames
streamin' throo th' holes in a barn. Th' keenin' become waker an' waker
till it died down like the cheep ov a willy-wag-tail far off be the ind
ov th' road.

"I got up an' ran like a red shank t' McShane's house. I dundthered at
his doore till he opened it, t