When the craving of hunger was satisfied, she appeared to suffer less from the persecution of her tormentor than before; whether it was, as Mrs Sullivan thought, that the food with which she plied it appeased in some degree its irritability, or lessened that of the stranger, it was difficult to say; at all events, she became more composed; her eyes resumed somewhat of a natural expression; each sharp ferocious glare, which shot from them with such intense and rapid flashes, partially disappeared; her knit brows dilated, and part of a forehead, which had once been capacious and handsome, lost the contractions which deformed it by deep wrinkles.  Altogether the change was evident, and very much relieved Mrs Sullivan, who could not avoid observing it.

“It’s not that I care much about it, if you’d think it not right o’ me, but it’s odd enough for you to keep the lower part of your face muffled up in that black cloth, an’ then your forehead, too, is covered down on your face a bit.  If they’re part of the bargain,”—­and she shuddered at the thought,—­“between you an’ anything that’s not good—­hem!—­I think you’d do well to throw thim off o’ you, an’ turn to thim that can protect you from everything that’s bad.  Now, a scapular would keep all the divils in hell from one; an’ if you’d——­”

On looking at the stranger she hesitated, for the wild expression of her eyes began to return.

“Don’t begin my punishment again,” replied the woman; “make no allus——­don’t make mention in my presence of anything that’s good.  Husht—­husht—­it’s beginning—­easy now—­easy!  No,” said she, “I came to tell you, that only for my breaking a vow I made to this thing upon me, I’d be happy instead of miserable with it.  I say, it’s a good thing to have, if the person will use this bottle,” she added, producing one, “as I will direct them.”

“I wouldn’t wish, for my part,” replied Mrs Sullivan, “to have anything to do wid it—­neither act nor part”; and she crossed herself devoutly, on contemplating such an unholy alliance as that at which her companion hinted.

“Mary Sullivan,” replied the other, “I can put good fortune and happiness in the way of you and yours.  It is for you the good is intended; if you don’t get both, no other can,” and her eyes kindled as she spoke like those of the Pyrhoness in the moment of inspiration.

Mrs Sullivan looked at her with awe, fear, and a strong mixture of curiosity; she had often heard that the Lianhan Shee had, through means of the person to whom it was bound, conferred wealth upon several, although it could never render this important service to those who exercised direct authority over it.  She therefore experienced something like a conflict between her fears and a love of that wealth, the possession of which was so plainly intimated to her.

“The money,” said she, “would be one thing, but to have the Lianhan Shee planted over a body’s shouldher—­och! the saints preserve us!—­no, not for oceans of hard goold would I have it in my company one minnit.  But in regard to the money—­hem!—­why, if it could be managed without havin’ act or part wid that thing, people would do anything in reason and fairity.”