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Take all, keep all. My soul walks with me, form of forms. So in the moon's midwatches I pace the path above the rocks, in sable silvered, hearing Elsinore's tempting flood. The flood is following me. I can watch it flow past from here. Get back then by the Poolbeg road to the strand there. He climbed over the sedge and eely oarweeds and sat on a stool of rock, resting his ashplant in a grike.
"His feyace was long, but weel-faured, and darker nor a gipsy; and his clothes were black and grand, and made o' velvet, and he said he was the young lord himsel'; and he lukt like it." "That will be the same fella I sid at Deadman's Grike," said Mall Carke, with an anxious frown. "Hoot, mudder! how cud that be?" cried the lass, with a toss of her pretty head and a smile of scorn.
"Agoy!" exclaims the girl, "who's lookin' after me?" "A big black fella, as high as the kipples, came out o' the wood near Deadman's Grike, just after the sun gaed down yester e'en; I knew weel what he was, for his feet ne'er touched the road while he made as if he walked beside me.
It was the same grimy giant who had accosted her on the lonely road near Deadman's Grike. But she feels that she "must go through with it" now, and she follows him into the house. Two rushlights were burning in the large and miserable room, and on a coarse ragged bed lay a woman groaning piteously.