"Come, Barney," said he, "throw up that window and send the poor man
here, until he tells us what he knows about this affair."

The window was accordingly thrown open, and in a few minutes Bandy Brack
made his appearance outside, and, on being interrogated on the subject
in question, took off his hat, and was about to commence his narrative,
when Lindsay said,

"Put on your hat, Bandy; the sun's too hot to be uncovered."

"That's more of it," said his wife; "a fine way to make yourself
respected, Lindsay."

"I love to be respected," he replied sternly, "and to deserve respect:
but I have no desire to incur the hatred of the poor by oppression and
want of charity, like some of my female acquaintances."

"Plase your honor," said Bandy, "all that I know about the
_Shan-dhinne-dhuv_, or the Black Spectre, as the larned call him, won't
require many words to tell you. It's not generally known what I'm goin'
to say now. The haunted house, as your honor, maybe, remimbers, was
an inn--a carman's inn chiefly--and one night, it seems, there came a
stranger to stop in it. He was dressed in black, and when he thought it
time to go to bed he called the landlord, Antony McMurt, and placed in
his hands a big purse o' goold to keep for him till he should start at
daybreak, as he intended, the next morning. Antony--

"Ay," said Lindsay, interrupting him, "that accounts for the nature of
the villain's death. I remember him well, Bandy, although I was only