Mrs. Sullivan kept still gazing at the coat, in a state of terror almost
equal to that of her daughter.

"Well," said she, "I've often heard it said that one is sometimes to
disbelieve their own eyes; an' only that I known the thing couldn't
happen, I would swear on the althar that I seen it movin'."

"I thought so myself, too," observed Sullivan, who also seemed to have
been a good deal perplexed and awed by the impression; "but of coorse I
agree wid Donnel, that it was the unsteady light of the rush that made
us think so; howaniver, it doesn't matther now; move or no move, it
won't bring him that owned it back to us, so God rest him!--and now,
Bridget, thry an' get us some-thin' to ait."

"Before the girl leaves the room," said the prophecy man, "let me spake
what I think an' what I know. I've lost many a weary day an' night in
studyin' the further, an' in lookin' into what's to come. I must spake,
then, what I think an' what I know, regardin' her. I must; for when the
feelin' is on me, I can't keep the prophecy back."

"Oh! let me go, mother," exclaimed the alarmed girl; "let me go; I can't
bear to look at him."

"One minute, acushla, till you hear what he has to say to you," and she
held her back, with a kind of authoritative violence, as Mave attempted
to leave the room.

"Don't be alarmed my purty creature," spoke the prophet; "don't be
alarmed at what I'm goin' to say to you, an' about you, for you needn't.
I see great good fortune before you. I see a grand an' handsome husband