The experience occurred in connection with the death of my youngest sister. On the night preceding her decease I dreamed most vividly that I saw the figure of a female dressed in some loose-flowing, fantastic garment come up the path leading to the house, and knock very loudly several times, in quick succession, at the back door. I was going to answer, when a sudden terror held me back.
“It’s the Banshee,” a voice whispered in my ear, “the Banshee. Don’t let her in, she’s coming for one of you.”
This so startled me that I awoke. I then found that my wife was awake also, trembling all over, and in a great state of excitement.
“Did you hear that tremendous knock?” she whispered.
“What!” I replied. “You don’t mean to say there really was a knock? Why, I fancied it was only in my dream.”
“You may have dreamt it,” she said, “but I didn’t—I heard it; it was at this door, not at the front door. I say knock, but it was really a crash—a terrific crash on the top panel of the door.”
We anxiously waited to see if there would be a repetition, but, nothing happening, we lay down again, and eventually went to sleep.
On the following day we received a telegram informing us that at ten o’clock that morning my sister had passed away.
Since then, I am glad to relate I have not again come in contact with the Banshee. At the same time, however, there are occasions when I feel very acutely that she is not far away, and I am seldom, if ever, perhaps, absolutely free from an impression that she hovers near at hand, ready to manifest herself the moment either death or disaster threaten any member of my family. Moreover, that she takes a peculiar interest in my personal affairs, I have, alas, only too little reason to doubt.