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"Your honor won't go," said the less aged of the two, "until you get your fortune tould." "To be sure he won't, Caterine," they all replied; "we'll engage the gentleman will cross your hand wid silver, like his father before him, his heart's not in the money." "Never mind her, sir," said the aged crone, "she's a schemer, and will tell you nothing but what she knows will plaise you.
"Yes," said he, "but the girl that was dearer to me a thousand times than my own life has proved faithless, because there is a stain upon my name a stain, but no crime, Caterine; a stain made by the law, but no crime.
"May God forbid," ejaculated the cook, "for it's herself, the darlin' girl, that 'ud be the bitther loss to the poor and destitute." This kind ejaculation was fervently echoed by all her fellow-servants; and Harry, having finished his pipe, went to see how his brother's wound was progressing. He found him asleep, and Caterine Collins seated knitting a stocking at his bedside.
She said, indeed, some time ago, that it was her father forced her to do it, but that was after she had seen him, for well I know she often told me a different story before the night of the bonfire and the shower of blood. Well, Caterine, that shower of blood was not sent for nothing. It came as the prophecy of his fate, which, if I have life, will be a bloody one."
Weren't you pointed out to me the night o' the divil's bonfire, that your mother, they say, got up for you; and didn't I see you since spakin' to that skamin' blaggard, Caterine Collins, my niece, that takes many a penny out o' my hands; and didn't I know that you couldn't be talkin' to her about anything that was good. Troth, you're not your mother's son or you'll be comin' to me as well as her.
Rody, however, immediately left them to discuss the matter among themselves, and went, thoroughly crestfallen, to give an account of his mission to Caterine Collins, who had employed him, and to reassume his own clothes, which, indeed, were by no means fresh from the tailor. The last individual whose interview with the conjurer we shall notice was no other than Harry Woodward, our hero.
Had Caterine Collins not put the unsuspecting and timid girl on her guard against the influence of the Evil Eye, as possessed by Woodward, for whom she acted as agent in the business, that poor girl would not have felt anything like what this diabolical piece of information occasioned her to experience. From the moment she heard it her active imagination took the alarm.
One evening, about this time, Caterine Collins was on her way home to Rathfillan, I when, on crossing a piece of bleak moor adjacent to the town, a powerful young fellow, dressed in the truis, cloak, and barrad of the period, started up from a clump of furze bushes, and addressed her as follows: "Caterine," said he, "are you in a hurry?"
In a few minutes Harry joined her on the lawn, where she awaited him, and the following dialogue took place between them: "Well, Caterine, Casey tells me that you have something particular to say to me." "And very particular indeed, it is, Mr. Harry." "Well, then, the sooner we have it the better; pray, what is it?" "I'm afeard, Mr.
Naturally courteous, however, and reluctant to give offence, she allowed the woman to advance, especially as she could perceive from the earnestness of her manner that she was anxious to speak with her. "Well, Caterine," said she, "I hope you are not coming to tell my fortune to-day; I am not in spirits to hear much of the future, be it good or bad. Will you not go up to the house?
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