"Whether they have sowls or bodies," replied the narrator, "what I'm
tellin' you is truth; every night in the year the ould chap would come
for what was indue him; find as the two went along, the noise of the
loose shoe upon the horse would be hard rattlin', and seen knockin' the
fire out of the stones, by the neighbors and the thief that chated him,
even before the Square would appeal at all at all."

"Oh, wurrah!" exclaimed Nancy, shuddering with terror. "I wouldn't take
anything and be out now on the _Drumfarrar road_*, and nobody with me
but myself."

*A lonely mountain-road, said to have been haunted. It is on
this road that the coffin scenes mentioned in the Party
fight and Funeral is laid.

"I think if you wor," said M'Kinley, "the light weights and short
measures would be comin' acrass your conscience."

"No, in troth, Alick, wouldn't they; but may be if you wor, the promise
you broke to Sally Mitchell might trouble you a bit: at any rate, I've a
prayer, and if I only repated it wanst, I mightn't be afeard of all the
divils in hell."

"Throth, but it's worth havin', Nancy: where did you get it?" asked
M'Kinley.

"Hould your wicked tongue, you thief of a heretic," said Nancy,
laughing, "when will _you_ larn anything that's good? I got it from one
that wouldn't have it if it _wasn't_ good--Darby M'Murt, the pilgrim,
since you must know."