“Will you drink it?” asked her companion.  “If it does hurt or harm to you or yours, or anything but good, may what is hanging over me be fulfilled!” and she extended a thin, but, considering her years, not ungraceful arm, in the act of holding out the bottle to her kind entertainer.

“For the sake of all that’s good and gracious, take it without scruple—­it is not hurtful, a child might drink every drop that’s in it.  Oh, for the sake of all you love, and of all that love you, take it!” and as she urged her the tears streamed down her cheeks.

“No, no,” replied Mrs Sullivan, “it’ll never cross my lips; not if it made me as rich as ould Hendherson, that airs his guineas in the sun, for fraid they’d get light by lyin’ past.”

“I entreat you to take it,” said the strange woman.

“Never, never!—­once for all—­I say, I won’t; so spare your breath.”

The firmness of the good housewife was not, in fact, to be shaken; so, after exhausting all the motives and arguments with which she could urge the accomplishment of her design, the strange woman, having again put the bottle into her bosom, prepared to depart.

She had now once more become calm, and resumed her seat with the languid air of one who has suffered much exhaustion and excitement.  She put her hand upon her forehead for a few moments, as if collecting her faculties, or endeavouring to remember the purport of their previous conversation.  A slight moisture had broken through her skin, and altogether, notwithstanding her avowed criminality in entering into an unholy bond, she appeared an object of deep compassion.

In a moment her manner changed again, and her eyes blazed out once more, as she asked her alarmed hostess,—­

“Again, Mary Sullivan, will you take the gift that I have it in my power to give you? ay or no? speak, poor mortal, if you know what is for your own good.”

Mrs Sullivan’s fears, however, had overcome her love of money, particularly as she thought that wealth obtained in such a manner could not prosper; her only objection being to the means of acquiring it.

“Oh!” said the stranger, “am I doomed never to meet with anyone who will take the promise off me by drinking of this bottle.  Oh! but I am unhappy!  What it is to fear—­ah! ah!—­and keep His commandments.  Had I done so in my youthful time, I wouldn’t now—­ah—­merciful mother, is there no relief? kill me, tormentor; kill me outright, for surely the pangs of eternity cannot be greater than those you now make me suffer.  Woman,” said she, and her muscles stood out in extraordinary energy—­“woman, Mary Sullivan—­ay, if you should kill me—­blast me—­where I stand, I will say the word—­woman—­you have daughters—­teach them—­to fear——­” Having got so far, she stopped—­her bosom heaved up and down—­her frame shook dreadfully—­her eyeballs became lurid and fiery—­her hands were clenched, and the spasmodic throes of inward convulsion worked the white froth up to her mouth; at length she suddenly became like a statue, with this wild supernatural expression intense upon her, and with an awful calmness, by far more dreadful than excitement could be, concluded by pronouncing in deep husky tones the name of God.