"
"Plase your honor," said Bandy, "all that I know about the
_Shan-dhinne-dhuv_, or the Black Spectre, as the larned call him, won't
require many words to tell you. It's not generally known what I'm goin'
to say now. The haunted house, as your honor, maybe, remimbers, was
an inn--a carman's inn chiefly--and one night, it seems, there came a
stranger to stop in it. He was dressed in black, and when he thought it
time to go to bed he called the landlord, Antony McMurt, and placed in
his hands a big purse o' goold to keep for him till he should start at
daybreak, as he intended, the next morning. Antony--
"Ay," said Lindsay, interrupting him, "that accounts for the nature of
the villain's death. I remember him well, Bandy, although I was only
a boy at the time; go on--he was always a dishonest scoundrel it was
said--proceed."
"Well it seems, Antony, sir, mistook him for a Protestant parson; and
as he had a hankerin' afther the goold, he opened a gusset in the man's
throat that same night, when the unsuspectin' traveller was sound in
that sleep that he never woke from in this world.
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