No sooner had he conceived the idea than he instantly set forward to put it in execution. The night was favorable for his purpose, and he arrived at the identical place in the mountain, without the slightest interruption or accident. He found it just as he had left it, a scene of the wildest desolation. No sound fell on his ear save the mournful shrieking of the wind as it tore itself against the harsh branches of the dead pine trees. He climbed the rugged side of the hill and looked into the black lake that filled the dark chasm at its summit. It seemed to be as solid as a sheet of lead. He flung a pebble into the gulf; it was eagerly sucked up, and sunk without a ripple, as though dropped into a mass of burning pitch. One heavy bubble swelled to the surface, broke into a sullen flame that flashed lazily for an instant, and then went out. A small, but intensely black puff of smoke rose above the spot; so dense was the diminutive cloud that it was rejected by the shadowy atmosphere, which refused to receive it within its bosom. Reluctantly it seemed to hang upon the surface of the lake, then slowly mounted, careering backwards and forwards with each passing breeze.
The singular phenomenon attracted Terry's attention, and he watched, with increasing interest, the gyrations of the cloud, until at length it took a steady direction towards the spot where he stood. It was not long before it floated up to him, and he stepped aside to let it pass by, but as he moved, so did the ball of smoke. He stooped, and it followed his movement; he turned and ran—just as swiftly it sped with him. He now saw there was something supernatural in it, and his heart beat with apprehension.
"There's no use in kickin' agin fate," he said, "so, with a blessin', I'll just stop where I am, an' see what will come of it; worse off I can't be, an' that's a comfort any way."
So saying, Terry stood still, and patiently waited the result. To his great surprise the cloud of smoke, after making the circuit of his head two or three times, settled on his right shoulder, and on casting his eye round, he perceived that it had changed into a living form, but still as black as a coal.
"Bedad I'm among them agin, sure enough," said Terry, now much more easy in his mind; "I wondher who this little divil is that's roostin' so comfortably on my showldher."
"Wondher no longer, Misther Terry Magra," grunted a frog-like voice into his ear; "by what magic means, oh! presumptuous mortal, did you discover the charmed stone which compelled the spirit of yonder sulphurous lake to quit his warm quarters, thus to shiver in the uncongenial air? Of all the myriad pebbles that are scattered around, that was the only one which possessed the power to call me forth."
"Faix, an' it was a lucky chance that made me stumble on it, sir," said Terry.
"That's as it may turn out," replied the spirit. "Do you know who and what I am? but why should you, ignorant creature as you are? Listen, and be enlightened. I am the chief guardian of yon bituminous prison, within whose murky depths lie groaning all of fairy kind, who have by their imprudence forfeited their brilliant station.
"You don't tell me that, sir? By goxty, an' I wouldn't like to change places with them," said Terry, with a great effort at familiarity.
"There's no knowing when you may share their fate," replied the spirit. "The soul of many an unhappy mortal, who has abused a fairy-gift, lies there, as well."