‘Well,’ said John, ‘since I am to be a servant with thee, come into my abersgaic, and I will carry thee. But thou must not come out till I ask thee, or else the bargain’s broke.’
The Mischief promised, and he did this.
‘Now,’ said John, ‘I am going to see a brother of mine that is in the regiment. But keep thou quiet.’
So now John went into the town; and one yonder and one here would cry, ‘There is John the desairtair.’ There was gripping of John, and a court held on him; and so it was that he was to be hanged about mid-day on the morrow. And John asked no favour but to be floored with a bullet.
The Coirneal said, ‘Since he was an old soldier, and in the army so long, that he should have his asking.’
On the morrow, when John was to be shot, and the soldiers foursome round all about him, ‘What is that they are saying?’ said the Mischief. ‘Let me amongst them, and I won’t be long scattering them.’
‘Cuist! cuist!’ said John.
‘What’s that speaking to thee?’ said the Coirneal.
‘Oh! it’s but a white mouse,’ said John.
‘Black or white,’ said the Coirneal, ‘don’t thou let her out of the abersgaic, and thou shalt have a letter of loosing, and let’s see no more of thee.’