“About this woman, and the Lianhan Shee?” said the priest, without noticing Barny's apology. “Pray what do you precisely understand by a Lianhan Shee?”
“Why, sir,” replied Mary, “some sthrange bein' from the good people, or fairies, that sticks to some persons. There's a bargain, sir, your Reverence, made atween thim; an' the divil, sir, that is, the ould boy—the saints about us!—has a hand in it. The Lianhan Shee, your Reverence, is never seen only by thim it keeps wid; but—hem!—it always, with the help of the ould boy, conthrives, sir, to make the person brake the agreement, an' thin it has thim in its power; but if they don't brake the agreement, thin it's in their power. If they can get any body to put in their place, they may get out o' the bargain; for they can, of a sartainty, give oceans o' money to people, but can't take any themselves, plase your Reverence. But sure, where's the use o' me to be tellin' your Reverence what you know betther nor myself?—an' why shouldn't you, or any one that has the power you have?”
He smiled again at this in his own peculiar manner, and was proceeding to inquire more particularly into the nature of the interview between them, when the noise of feet, and sounds of general alarm, accompanied by a rush of people into the house, arrested his attention, and he hastily inquired into the cause of the commotion. Before he could receive a reply, however, the house was almost crowded; and it was not without considerable difficulty, that, by the exertions of Mrs. Sullivan and Bartley, sufficient order and quiet were obtained to hear distinctly what was said.
“Plase your Reverence,” said several voices at once, “they're comin', hot-foot, into the very house to us! Was ever the likes seen! an' they must know right well, sir, that you're widin in it.”
“Who are coming?” he inquired. “Why the woman, sir, an' her good pet, the Lianhan Shee, your Reverence.”
“Well,” said he, “but why should you all appear so blanched with terror? Let her come in, and we shall see how far she is capable of injuring her fellow-creatures: some maniac,” he muttered, in a low soliloquy, “whom the villany of the world has driven into derangement—some victim to a hand like m——. Well, they say there is a Providence, yet such things are permitted!”
“He's sayin' a prayer now,” observed one of them; “haven't we a good right to be thankful that he's in the place wid us while she's in it, or dear knows what harm she might do us—maybe rise the wind!”* As the latter speaker concluded, there was a dead silence. The persons about the door crushed each other backwards, their feet set out before them, and their shoulders laid with violent pressure against those who stood behind, for each felt anxious to avoid all danger of contact with a being against whose power even a blessed priest found it necessary to guard himself by a prayer.
* It is generally supposed by the people, that persons
who have entered into a compact with Satan can raise
the wind by calling him up, and that it cannot be laid
unless by the death of a black cock, a black dog, or an
unchristened child.
At length a low murmur ran among the people—“Father O'Rourke!—here's Father O'Rourke!—he has turned the corner after her, an' they're both comin' in.” Immediately they entered, but it was quite evident from the manner of the worthy priest that he was unacquainted with the person of this singular being. When they crossed the threshold, the priest advanced, and expressed his surprise at the throng of people assembled.
“Plase your Reverence,” said Bartley, “that's the woman,” nodding significantly towards her as he spoke, but without looking at her person, lest the evil eye he dreaded so much might meet his, and give him “the blast.”