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"Why, you fool," cried Toonie, "a moment ago it was! But now you have gone and let go your mouthful of silence!" "To be sure, to be sure so I have!" answered the old man sadly; and turning about, he disappeared among the bushes. As for Toonie, he went on right over the top of Drundle Head, keeping his eyes well to the right; but never a fairy did he see.
"Good evening, your reverence," cried Toonie, and flourished off his cap, so that out fell his capful of moonshine. And though he went on all the way up over the top of Drundle Head, never a fairy did he spy; for he forgot that, in passing what he supposed to be the priest, he had let go both his mouthful of silence and his capful of moonshine.
When a chief magistrate and his people, after flagrant wrong-doing, become thoroughly cowed and frightened, they are apt also to be cruel. Poor Bimsha! On the top of Drundle Head, away to the right side, where the track crossed, it was known that the fairies still came and danced by night.
He had nearly reached to the top of Drundle Head, when up from the ground sprang the same little elderly man of the evening before, and began beating him across the face with a hazel wand. And at that Toonie threw up both hands and let go his courage, and turned and tried to run down the hill. When her husband did not return, Toonie's wife became a kind of a widow.
And so it came that one night, finding the door of his stable unlocked, he ran out into the open world a free man. A soft wind breathed at large, and swung slowly in the black-silver treetops. Over them Little Toonie could see the quiet slopes of Drundle Head, asleep in the moonlight. Before long, following the lead of his eyes, he had come to the bottom of the ascent.
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