The Evil Eye; Or, The Black Spector: The Works of William Carleton, Volume OneCarleton, William
General
The Evil Eye; Or, The Black Spector: The Works of William Carleton, Volume One
Carleton, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“Well,” proceeded Barney, “you all know that the divil took her and her
imp, the white cat, away on the night of the great storm that took place
then?”
“We do! Sure we have heard it a thousand times.”
“Very well--I want to show you that Bet Harramount, the white witch,
and the Black Speacthre are sweethearts, and are leadin' a bad life
together.”
“Heavenly father! Saints above! Blessed Mother!” were ejaculated by the
whole kitchen. Barney, in fact, was progressing with great effect.
“O, yez needn't be surprised,” he continued, “for it was well known
that they had many private meetin's while Bet was livin' in Rathfillan.
But it was thought the devil had taken her away from the priest and
magisthrate on the night o' the storm, and so he did; and he best knew
why. Listen, I say--Masther Harry and I went out this day to coorse
hares; we went far up into the mountains, and never pulled bridle till
we came to the cabin where the witch lived, the same that Koolawn
chased her into in the shape of a white hare, after taking a bite out
of her--out of the part next her scut. Well, we sat down in the cursed
cabin, much against my wishes, but he would rest nowhere else--mark
that--so while we were helpin' ourselves to the ham and brandy, I up and
tould him the history of Bet Harramount from a to izzard. 'Well,' said
he, 'to show you how little I care about her, and that I set her at
defiance, I'll toss every atom of her beggarly furniture out of the
door;' and so he did--but by dad I thought he done it in a jokin' way,
as much as to say, I can take the liberty where another can't. I knew,
becoorse, he was wrong; but that makes no maxim--I'll go on wid my
story. On our way home we came to the green fields that lie on this side
of the haunted house; a portion of it, on a risin' ground, is covered
with furz. Now listen--when we came to it he stood; 'Barney,' says he,
'there's a hare here; give me the dogs, Sambo and Snail; they'll have
sich a hunt as they never had yet, and never will have agin.'
“He then closed his eyes, raised his left foot, and dhrew it back
three times in the divil's name, pronounced some words that I couldn't
understand, and then said to me, 'Now, Barney, go down to that withered
furze, and as you go, always keep your left foot foremost; cough three
times, then kick the furze with your left foot, and maybe you'll see an
old friend o' yours.'
“Well, I did so, and troth I thought there was somethin' over me when I
did it; but--what 'ud you think?--out starts a white hare, and off went
Sambo and Snail after her, full butt. I have seen many a hard run, but
the likes o' that I never seen. If they turned her wanst they turned her
more than a dozen times; but where do you think she escaped to at last?”
“The Lord knows, Barney; where?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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