n spite o' them! Bravo, Sambo! Well done,
Snail; ay, Snail, indeed--hillo! by the sweets o' rosin they have
her--no, no--but it was a beautiful turn, though; and poor Snail, so
tired afther his day's work. Now, Masther Harry, thunder and turf! how
beautiful Sambo takes her up. Bravo, Sambo! stretch out, my darlin' that
you are!--O, blood, Masther Harry, isn't that beautiful? See how they go
neck and neck wid their two noses not six inches from her scut; and dang
my buttons but, witch or no witch, she's a thorough bit o' game, too.
Come, Bet, don't be asleep, my ould lady; move along, my darlin'--do
you feel the breath of your sweetheart at your bottom? Take to your
broomstick; you want it."

As he uttered these words the hare turned,--indeed it was time for
her--and both dogs shot forward, by the impetus of their flight, so far
beyond the point of her turn, that she started off towards the haunted
house. She had little time to spare, however, for they were once more
gaining on her; but still she approached the house, the dogs nearing her
fast. She approached the house, we say; she entered the open door, the
dogs within a few yards of her, when, almost in an instant, they came to
a standstill, looked into it, but did not enter; and when whistled back
to where Woodward and Barney stood, they looked in Barney's eye, not
only panting and exhausted, as indeed they were, but terrified also.

"Well, Masther Harry," said he, assuming the air of a man who spoke with
authority, "what do you think of that?"

"I think you are right," replied Woodward; assuming on his part, for
reasons which will be subsequently understood, an impression of sudden
conviction. "I think you are right, Barney, and that the Black Spectre
and the witch are acquaintances."

"Try her wid a silver bullet," said Barney; "there is nothing else for
it. No dog can kill her--that's a clear case; but souple as she is, a
silver bullet is the only messenger that can overtake her. Bad luck
to her, the thief! sure, if she'd turn to God and repint, it isn't
codgerin' wid sich company she'd be, and often in danger, besides, of
havin' a greyhound's nose at her flank. I hope you're satisfied, Masther
Harry?"

"Perfectly, Barney; there can be no doubt about it now. As for my part,
I know not what temptation could induce me to enter that haunted house.
I see that I was on dangerous ground when I defied the witch in the hut;
but I shall take care to be more cautious in