Harry Woodward, and of his intercourse with supernatural beings—­he was known to possess the Evil Eye; and it was generally understood that those who happened to be endowed with that accursed gift were aided in the exercises of it by the powers of darkness and of evil.  What, then, was he to do?  There probably was an opportunity of solving the mystery which hung around the midnight motions of Woodward.  If there was a spirit before him, there was also a human being, in living flesh and blood—­an acquaintance, too—­an individual whom he personally knew, ready to sustain him, and afford, if necessary, that protection which, under such peculiar circumstances, one fellow-creature has a right to expect from another.  Now Barney’s way home led him necessarily—­and a painful necessity it was—­near the Haunted House; and he observed that the place where they stood, for they had ceased walking, was about fifty yards above that much dreaded mansion.  He resolved, however, to make the plunge and advance, but deemed it only good manners to give some intimation of his approach.  He was now within about twenty yards from them, and made an attempt at a comic song, which, however, quivered off into as dismal and cowardly a ditty as ever proceeded from human lips.  Harry and the Spectre, both startled by the voice, turned round to observe his approach, when, to his utter consternation, the Shan-dhinne-dhuv sank, as it were, into the earth and disappeared.  The hair rose upon Barney’s head, and when Woodward called out: 

“Who comes there?”

He could scarcely summon voice enough to reply: 

“It’s me, sir,” said he; “Barney Casey.”

“Come on, Barney,” said Woodward, “come on quickly;” and he had scarcely spoken when Barney joined him.

“Barney,” said he, “I am in a state of great terror.  I have felt ever since I passed that Haunted House as if there was an evil spirit in my company.  The feeling was dreadful, and I am very weak in consequence of it.  Give me you arm.”

“But did you see nothing, sir?” said Barney; “didn’t it become visible to you?”

“No,” replied the other; “but I felt as if I was in the presence of a supernatural being, and an evil one, too.”

“God protect us, Mr. Harry! then, if you didn’t see it I did.”

“You did!” replied the other, startled; “and pray what was it like?”

“Why, a black ould man, sir; and, by all accounts that ever I could hear of it, it was nothing else than the Shan-dhinne-dhuv.  For God’s sake let us come home, sir, for this, if all they say be true, is unholy and cursed ground we’re standin’ on.”

“And where did it disappear?” asked Woodward, leading him by a circuit from the spot where it had vanished.

“Just over there, sir,” replied Barney, pointing to the place.  “But, in God’s name, let us make for home as fast as we can.  I’ll think every minute an hour till we get safe undher our own roof.”