that it was impossible to meet her without feeling she was a female of
no ordinary character and habits.

Lamh Laudher had been, as we have said, advancing slowly along the
craggy road which led towards the town, when she issued from an
adjoining cabin and approached him. The moment he noticed her he stood
still, as if to let her pass and uttered one single exclamation of
chagrin and anger.

"_Ma shaughth milia mollach ort, a calliagh!_ My seven thousand curses
on you for an old hag," said he, and haying thus given vent to his
indignation at her appearance, he began to retrace his steps as if
unwilling to meet her.

"The son of your father needn't lay the curse upon us so bitterly all
out, Lamh Laudher!" she exclaimed, pacing at the same time with vigorous
steps until she overtook him.

The young man looked at her maimed features, and as if struck by some
sudden recollection, appeared to feel regret for the hasty malediction
he had uttered against her. "Nell M'Collum," said he, "the word was
rash; and the curse did not come from my heart. But, Nell, who is there
that doesn't curse you when they meet you? Isn't it well known that to
meet you is another name for falling in wid bad luck? For my part I'd go
fifty miles about rather than cross you, if I was bent on any business
that my heart 'ud be in, or that I cared any thing about."

"And who brought the bad luck upon me first?" asked the woman. "Wasn't
it the husband of the mother that bore you? Wasn't it his hand that
disfigured me as you see, when I was widin a week of bein' dacently