“But about the witch herself?”

“She was gone; neither hilt nor hair of her was there; nor from that day to this was she ever seen by mortal.  It’s not hard to guess, however, what became of her.  Every one knows that the devil carried her and her imp off in the tempest, either to some safer place, or else to give her a warm corner below stairs.”

“Why, Barney, it must be an awful little house, this.”

“You may say that, sir; there’s not a man, woman, or child in the barony would come into it by themselves.  Every one keeps from it; the very rapparees, and robbers of every description, would take the shelter of a cleft or cave rather than come into it.  Here it is, then, as you see, just as she and the devil and his imp left it; no one has laid a hand on it since, nor ever will.”

“But why was it not pulled down and levelled at the time?”

“Why, Masther Harry?  Dear me, I wondher you ask that.  Do you think the people would be mad enough to bring down her vengeance upon themselves or their property, or maybe upon both? and for that matther she may be alive yet.”

“Well, then, if she is,” replied Woodward, “here goes to set her at defiance;” and as he spoke he tossed bed, straw, rug, blanket, and every miserable article of furniture that the house contained, out at the door.

Barney’s hair stood erect upon his head, and he looked aghast.

“Well, Masther Harry,” said he, “I’m but a poor man, and I wouldn’t take the wealth of the parish and do that.  Come away, sir; let us lave it; as I tould you, they say there’s a curse upon it, and upon every one that makes or meddles wid it.  Some people say it’s to stand there till the day of judgment.”

Having now refreshed themselves, they left Bet Harramont’s cabin, with all its awful associations, behind them, and resumed their sport, which they continued until evening, when, having killed as many hares as they could readily carry, they took a short cut home through the lower fields.  By this way they came upon a long, green hill, covered in some places with short furze, and commanding a full view of the haunted house, which lay some four or five hundred yards below them, with its back door lying, as usual, open.

“Let us beat these furze,” said Woodward, “and have one run more, if we can, before getting home; it is just the place for a hare.”

“With all my heart,” replied Barney; “another will complete the half dozen.”

They accordingly commenced searching the cover, which they did to no purpose, and were upon the point of giving up all hope of I success, when, from the centre of a low, broad clump of furze, out starts a hare, as white almost as snow.  Barney for a moment was struck dumb; but at length exerting his voice, for he was some distance from Woodward, he shouted out—­

“O, for goodness’ sake, hould in the dogs, Masther Harry!”