But Alice spoke up before he could answer, “Why, at Dunluce Castle that we saw to-day there is a Banshee that always foretells death to the family, and they have them all over Ireland.”
Sez I, advancin’ towards the winder, “You don’t believe anythin’ of this kind, do you, Martin?”
He answered evasively, “There is something dreadful queer-looking down there across the road—it is standing still now, but it has been giving the most blood-curdling sounds and wails that I ever heard.”
“Yes,” sez Alice, “the Banshee always gives those same terrific screeches and harrowing yells. I know it is a Banshee, and it is for us, father, for it appeared to us.”
And she commenced to cry. I guess her first thought was of somebody that wuz in her mind the hull of the time.
Sez I, “Hush up, Alice—I don’t believe anything of the kind.”
But as I looked out, follerin’ Martin’s solemn and silent pint, I did see a sight that made the cold chills run down my back in spite of myself, and goose pimples gathered freely down my shoulder blades.
I see a dark figger a-standin’ up on a little rock that riz up there above the rest of the ground; it stood motionless, and, indeed, it looked skairful. And onbeknown to myself I sez—“For the land’s sake! what is it?”
A dark figger a-standin’ up on a little rock.