"Why, sir," replied the man, "she tuck possession of a waste cabin and
a bit o' garden belongin' to it; and Larry Sullivan, that owns it, was
goin' to put her out, when, Lord save us, he and his whole family were
saized with sickness, and then he sent word to her that if she'd take it
off o' them and put it on some one else he'd let her stay."

"And did she do so?"

"She did, sir; every one o' them recovered, and she put it on his
neighbor, poor Harry Commiskey and his family, that used to visit them
every day, and from them it went over the country--and bad luck to her!
Devil a man of us would have had luck or grace in the fair to-day if we
had met her. That's another gift she has--to bring bad luck to any
one that meets her first in the mornin'; for if they're goin' upon
any business it's sure not to thrive with them. She's worse than Mrs.
Lindsay; for Mrs. Lindsay, although she's unlucky to meet, and unlucky
to cattle, too, has no power over any one's life; but they say it has
always been in her family, too."

The equestrians then proceeded at a rather brisk pace until they had got
clear of the peasants, when they pulled up a little.

"That is a strange superstition, sir," said Woodward, musingly.

"It is a very common one in this country, at all events," replied the
other; "and I believe pretty general in others as well as here."

"Do you place any faith in it?" asked the other.

The stranger paused, as if investigating the subject in question, after