Part 18 (1/2)

”Oh!” replied the stranger, ”I'm an odd kind of good-for-little fellow, one day poor, another day rich, but if you wish to know more about me or my habits, come with me and perhaps I may show you more than you would make out if you went alone.”

”I'm not my own master to go or stay,” said the story-teller, with a sigh.

The stranger put one hand into his wallet and drew out of it before their eyes a well-looking middle-aged man, to whom he spoke as follows:

”By all you heard and saw since I put you into my wallet, take charge of this lady and of the carriage and horses, and have them ready for me whenever I want them.”

Scarcely had he said these words when all vanished, and the story-teller found himself at the Foxes' Ford, near the castle of Red Hugh O'Donnell. He could see all but none could see him.

O'Donnell was in his hall, and heaviness of flesh and weariness of spirit were upon him.

”Go out,” said he to his doorkeeper, ”and see who or what may be coming.”

The doorkeeper went, and what he saw was a lank, grey beggarman; half his sword bared behind his haunch, his two shoes full of cold road-a-wayish water sousing about him, the tips of his two ears out through his old hat, his two shoulders out through his scant, tattered cloak, and in his hand a green wand of holly.

”Save you, O'Donnell,” said the lank, grey beggarman.

”And you likewise,” said O'Donnell. ”Whence come you, and what is your craft?”

”I come from the outmost stream of earth, From the glens where the white swans glide, A night in Islay, a night in Man, A night on the cold hill-side.”

”It's the great traveller you are,” said O'Donnell. ”May be you've learnt something on the road.”

”I am a juggler,” said the lank, grey beggarman, ”and for five pieces of silver you shall see a trick of mine.”

[Ill.u.s.tration:]

”You shall have them,” said O'Donnell; and the lank, grey beggarman took three small straws and placed them in his hand.

”The middle one,” said he, ”I'll blow away; the other two I'll leave.”

”Thou canst not do it,” said one and all.

But the lank, grey beggarman put a finger on either outside straw and, whiff, away he blew the middle one.

”'Tis a good trick,” said O'Donnell; and he paid him his five pieces of silver.

”For half the money,” said one of the chief's lads, ”I'll do the same trick.”

”Take him at his word, O'Donnell.”

The lad put the three straws on his hand, and a finger on either outside straw and he blew; and what happened but that the fist was blown away with the straw.

”Thou art sore, and thou wilt be sorer,” said O'Donnell.

”Six more pieces, O'Donnell, and I'll do another trick for thee,” said the lank, grey beggarman.

”Six shalt thou have.”

”Seest thou my two ears! One I'll move but not t'other.”