“THE BAN DHU”

Manawatu Times, Volume 61, Issue 235, 5 October 1936, Page 9

“THE BAN DHU”

me present. Now we may as well make tracks for home and dinner, unless you want another song before you go, ’ ‘'Good evening, Kathleen, and I hope your finger will be ail right soon.” “ 'Tis all right now nearly, Mr Lionel, thank you, only I’m sorry you tore up your nice clean handkerchief over- it.” They -scrambled up the bank. “Dearest friends must part," said Johanna. “So au revoir but not goodbye.” . She and Lionel made their way to Knockarra house in a not very comfortable mood. Silence had fallen between them, which neither knew best how to break. “That’s an extraordinary child," said Lionel at length. “Nice kid," replied Johanna, and began to whistle. Lionel looked at her anxiously with a quick sidelong glance. Nothing in the girl’s face gave any cluo to her feelings. “I didn’t do very well with my Ashing.” “Three trout and one nice little girl —not too bad for an afternoon,” laughed Johanna. We’ll cook the first mentioned for supper.” Pendulumwise jealousy and good humour swayed backwards and forwards In her mind; everything was going to be all right, and then a chance, quite irresistible, to get in a nice little dig! Johanna was not averse to saying smart 'things, but then who hasn’t some little weaknesses? She was rapidly getting herself in hand again. Still, -she could not help wishing that things had been different that afternoon. Mrs MacMorrough slept longer than she had intended. She was roused by the sound of Kathleen’s return. Slipping the Aask into her pocket she closed the door of the inner room and descended to the kitchen. Kathleen glanced at her anxiously. The afternoon quarrel seemed to have passed altogether from the elder woman’s mind, she was quite her old self again. This did not lull Kathleen’s fears entirely, the old woman was deep, and the girl knew it. A little ruffling of the surface would have been.more natural than this calm. “Well, hero you are, child,” washer smiling greeting. “An’ what were ye at all the time yere old gran was asleep? ’Tis feeble I’m gettln’.” “I was sitting out in the ferns by the trout pool.” “Aye, a nice place on a Ane day. All by yourself, I suppose.” ‘I went out with no one." “That doesn't say you stayed there with no one—what are ye hidin’ from me?” Lynx-like the crone was alert and suspicious in an Instant. “Mr Lionel—Mr O’Hara—was Ashing there part of the time." “Oh, he was, was he? Hirn’s the gentleman they say is goin’ to marry Jonna Preslwich beyant at the big house." The keen' old eyes watched the effect of her words. A slight flush on the girl’s face did not 'escape her. “It must have been rare and hot up there,” went on Mrs MacMorrough, with a slight -sneer in her tone.. “It’s gone and made yere face so red." “Aye, it was - a bit hot. They’ll make a Ane pair, the itwo of them. She was there, too, watching him fishing. He caught three, but two of them were not -much better than pinkeens." .“Oh, so Miss Jonna was there too. Eh, girl, what’s the matter with your hand?" “Mr Lionel's, hook caught in my Anger. ’Tis nothing, he’s not much hand at casting a fly, -I think. Anyone from down 'here-would have caught half-a-dozen; -the way he was throwing the line about would, frighten, a whale, but sure he’s only a city man, I could not -do better myself.” The depreciation of Lionel’s powers Was almost too eager. “I suppose ’twas Miss Jonna -that tied it up for ye. Eh, but -that was kind of her.” “It—it wasn’t Miss Jonna did it,’ stammered Kathleen, -afraid not to tell what -she somehow wished -to conceal. “Mr -OMlara then. That w r as kind of him. You wouldn’t think a gentleman like him would take such notice of you." She took the girl’s hand in her own withered one and examined it. “A piece of a handkerchie, too, a nice white handkerchie." “I told him not to do it, but he wouldn't stop for me.” “An, what did Miss Jonna say to all that?” "She didn’t say anything,” “Only -sat an’ looked at him?” • “She wasn’t there at first.” Mrs MacMorrough certainly would have made a fine cross-examiner. “You didn’t -say that before. I thought she was there all the tlmo from what you said." "You didn’t ask me, gran. She was there a pie-co of the time, nearly all of it." 'One less -clever and deep than the Wise Woman of iKnockarra would have pursued the matter further. “Well; well, 1 it makes no odds; let me see the Anger.” She unwrapped the bandage. “Only a pin-prick you’-d hardly see. A lot of fuss he made about ye for nothin’,” she added contemptuously. Rolling up the rag she threw it towards the Are. Kathleen did not know that her grandmother was Careful that it should fall, not on the smouldering turf, but on the ashes, a bait to catch -the unwaryi “And now you’ll be tlilrstly after all you’ve gone through. Get me some water and we’ll have our tea.” While Kathleen was gone, Mrs MacMorrough put some drops from her flask into the girl’s cup. By the time she returned her -grandmother was busy buttering some -homemade -soones, humming to herself in a quavering voice. “Now my girl, -take your tay. ’Tis' tired and thirsty you’ll be after it all. I doubt but you’ll sleep well. Ye ought to. Are ye sure that the Anger isn’t hurtin’ ye -at all.” ■“l’m all right, gran, sure 'tis nothing at all to -make a fuss about, as you said yourself.” “That’s well, that’s well," They took their tea in silence which was only broken by the clatter of teacups and occasional humming from the old woman. She was seldom in this mood, but this evening, even to Kathleen’s drowsing senses, it was plain that something unusual was on her mind.

(By Desmond Lough)

Instalment 15,

Her eyes were bright and a red spot burned on each withered cheek. “You don’t often sing, gran,” Kathleen commented. "Is it pleased you are at anything?” “I’m well enough, why shouldn t I be? There, now go to bed. I’ll wash U P" "I do feel sleepy then, thanks, gran. Katlficn rose and almost staggered to her room. The old woman -smiled. “She’ll sleep well," she muttered, “an’ she w'on’-t hear my cornin’ or goin’ now.” Waiting until all -movement had ceased in the girl’s room, Mrs Mac-Morroug-h took something from her pocket. It was a curious carved knife, sheathed in black leather. She passed her thumb lightly over the edge and was satisfied. CHAPTER XV. That afternoon Munroe tossed restlessly on his bed. It was not from tha wound in his shoulder; that was ‘doing nicely’ according to Dr. O’Behan, and it was not owing to the heat, although the clay was more than warm; his head throbbed, partly from the blow, but still more on account of worry over what he had lost when he was attacked. With maddening reiteration ho went over the events of that night, lie had had the paper in his hand when lie started. When he woke up in his -bed, it w r as gone. That was natural enough, of course he had dropped -it when he had fallen before the blow' of the Ban Dlvu, or whatever it was that had struck him. The more he tried to think -out his problem, the more certain he w : as that the creature that had flashed from bush to hush in the shadows w'as a crouohing man and not a black dog, as he had at first imagined. He was an obstinate rnan, was Munroe, and nothing w'ould induce him to tell anyone, not even his wife, of his loss. He had his own theory as to what the paper was. It had come into his possession strangely enough. Down in the village, a few weeks before, he had bought an old book for a shilling from Cathal Hession, who repaired the clocks and watches of the neighbourhood when they needed his services. The window of this olcl man’s shop was dull with the dust of months, if not years. On the yellow newspaper which served as a cloth on which to display his wares, were a few tarnished and battered teaspoons, a couple of grimy nickel watches, a rosary or two, a clock that showed the time was a quarter to eleven for many months, some tattered magazines, and a worn old book, bound in frayed leather. Munroe knew very little about old books except that he had read of wonderful bargains picked up now' and then in barrow's and second-hand shops, shops almost like old Ilession’s. Hessjon had a mania for going to the very few auctions that ever took place in the neighbourhood. He generally returned with a bundle of trash that nobody else w : anted. Occasionally he resold his purchases to some rare customer at a profit—or loss-—of a few -shillings or pence. He never remembered where he got anything. When the dirty newspaper got so depleted of occupants that he noticed It, lie grubbed in the chaos that -cluttered a back room and filled the gaps with whatever came handy. And so a quite out-of-date ‘Physical Geography of Munster, MDGCIX’ saw the light, or as much of it as could struggle through the window', once more. Munroe, hoping for such a bargain as had always eluded him, often prowded round .to see Hession. Thus •it was that, after mucli haggling, ho bought the book for a shilling. The faded name on the fly leaf told him that it had, at one time, belonged to the Rev. Ambrose Curtin, P.P. That the good priest -shared his books with his .parishioners—keeping a check on them, however, —was evident from notes .on the inside of . the cover. ‘Lent to J.P. ‘such a date,’ ‘Returned such a date,’ ‘Lent to M.O’L’ etc., etc. There must have been a dozen entries of this sort. But nobody cared for the Rev. Ambrose Curtin now, nor, for the matter of that, the physical features of Munster, and so Munroo could not effect a resale at a profit -or otherwise. Going through it one evening in -the hope of discovering something 'that might interest a possible, buyer, a paper, the one he now wanted -so greatly, came ungummed from where it had evidently been inserted. It altered Munroe’s opinon as to the possible value -of his purchase, but lie was au optimist in such things. Mrs Munroe broke in on his thoughts with a cup of tea. (Munroe hated afternoon tea, but his wife, like many another excellent woman, believed. in ‘feeding the brute’ whether ho would or not. “ I won’t have it, lass, I tell ye,” he cried peevishly. “Ye ken w'eel I hate to spoil ma supper wi’ fal-lals like yon, every few minutes." “It would be good for you, Alec, you’re not a well man remember." “I’m well enough, I don’t want it. Oh, weel, here, lass," he saw' disappointment in her comely face, “I’ll tak it as ye brought it.” “ That’s a -good man." “But you’re no to do it again, lass; d’ye ken that?” “Yes, yes, Alec,” replied his wife, who had no intention of disobeying him—until the morrow. “ You look hot and tired, Alec; is it your poor head.” . “My heid is all right, woman. I wish to goodness that you’d leave a body alone sometimes." “ You are getting better," said his wife with unruffled equanimity, “people always get a bit cross when they’re getting better I’ve heard say.” “ Have the police found out anything yet?” “ The Garda haven't found out anything yet that I’ve heard of,” corrected Mrs Munroe. •'Call them what you like, I call them fools.” “Theyire doing Itfteir best, I’m sure. Nobody can do more than that. There wasn’t a thing found that I heard of. The only thing we have is that stone and the bit of paper with the blood on It. I was so bothered about you, I forgot all about if. I don’t suppose it matters anyway."- j.