Page:Darby O'Gill and the Good People by Herminie Templeton Kavanagh (1903).djvu/239

Rh mind was cracked with grief. There was a lump in Darby’s throat, too, but for all that he spoke up scolding-like.

“Arrah, talk rayson, man,” he says, putting two hands on Cormac’s chowlders; “if I had the wit or the art to banish the banshee, wouldn’t I be happy to do it an’ not a fardin’ to pay?”

“Well, then,” says Cormac, scowling, an’ pushin’ Darby to one side, “I’ll face her myself—I’ll face her an’ choke that song in her throat if Sattin himself stood at her side.”

With those words, an’ before Darby could sthop him, the stone-cutter flung open the door an’ plunged out into the night. As he did so the song outside sthopped. Suddenly a quick splashing of feet, hoarse cries, and shouts gave tidings of a chase. The half-crazed gossoon had stharted the banshee—of that there could be no manner of doubt. A raymembrance of the awful things that she might do to his friend paythrefied the heart of Darby.

Even afther these cries died away he stood listenling a full minute, the sowls of his two brogues glued to the floor. The only sounds he heard now were the deep ticking of a clock and a cricket that chirped Rh