_They say it is the rain from leaf to leaf Doth slip and roll into the thirsting ground, That where the corn is trampled sheaf by sheaf The heavy sorrow of the storm is found._

_Ah no, ah no, it is repentant tears, By those let fall who make their direful flight, And drop by drop the anguish of their fears Comes down around us all the awful night._

_They say that in the lightning-flash, and roar Of clashing clouds, the tempest is about; And draw their chairs the glowing hearth before, And cas.e.m.e.nt close to shut the danger out._

_Ah no! the doors of Paradise they swing A moment open for a soul nigh spent, Then come together till the thunder's ring Leaves us half blinded by G.o.d's element._

Now, the spirit of the young bride was not yet called upon to join their terrible flight, for until her body was laid beneath the clay the soul had power to stay beside it. So stayed the spirit of the young bride by her dead body till her ghostly eyes grew accustomed to the change which had come to her. And when she found she could see the brown earth again and the things thereon, she rose to her feet, and ran down the mountains to the castle of Black Roderick, and there called thrice beside the gate, and for her it was opened by the little brother, who gazed affrighted and ran from her.

"What hath come to thee?" quoth she, and came upon him in his fear.

And he looked not to her, but spake to a knight-at-arms, saying thus:

"Three times cried the voice of my brother's wife at the gates, and when I opened for her there was none outside."

So the little bride, hearing, cried out in her despair, for she had forgotten that she was no longer as these others.

And when the two heard the cry, they were affrighted, and made the cross upon their foreheads.

"It is the banshee," quoth the knight, "who weeps for some death."

Seeing they feared her, the little bride pa.s.sed sadly into the castle, and timidly sought the chamber where the Black Earl was gone to crouch by the glowing fire.

Now, when Black Roderick looked up and saw her, he sprang towards her so she was afraid, and flitted before him like a shadow. And when he followed up the stair and into his own chamber, she faded like a shadow in the sunshine that came through the window, and the wind, coming down from the mountains and pa.s.sing through the cas.e.m.e.nt, drew her out upon its breast, and bore her back to the hills where her body lay awaiting its burial.

And seeing it there, a misery fell upon her, so she raised her head and wept.

"Ahone!" quoth she, "poor body that hath no one to weep over thy loneliness, that must lie uncoffined and unprayed for, who wast so tenderly cared for in thy life! Where art thou, my father, where art thou, my mother, that this should be? And where is he to whom this poor body was given to cherish and to love?"

And again she went to the castle of Black Roderick, and stood beside his door, the tears undried upon her cheek. And again sprang he towards her, so she was afraid, and flew before him down the winding stair and out into the night, so he could no longer see her.

And again the spirit of the young bride went back to the dead upon the hill-side, and, seeing it unburied and uncoffined, fell into tears.

"Never," saith she, "shall I now reach heaven, if my body lieth without a grave!"

And so sad was her soul at the thought that she went in her despair to the castle of the Black Earl, and stood again upon his threshold full of tears.

And when he looked up and saw her he was no longer fierce, but spake to her gently.

"Come hither," quoth he, "my sad-faced bride. I would but ask thee one question. Come beside my chair."

But she answered him not at all, but withdrew from his presence, as though bidding him follow.

Out into the night he followed, and pursued her without rest, till she almost reached the high hill where her body lay uncoffined.

And when they came in the morning to the little grove upon the side of the mountain, she felt a hand touch the poor, unmourned-for dead, and, with a great fear upon her, vanished from his eyes; so he fell upon the moss in his disappointment and weariness.

But the spirit of the little bride flew to the side of her uncoffined body to protect it from desecration ere her lord had looked upon it. And there she saw the little brother playing by the dead.

And as she came he turned and ran down the mountain, for he had heard the voice of Black Roderick calling; so the spirit of the little bride knew her task was done. And of how the Black Earl found her, and of what he said and did, have I told thee; but of how the spirit of the young bride enwrapped herself about the dead I have not spoken, nor of how she thrilled beneath the embraces of her lord, whose love she had at the last.

When he stood beside her deep grave, that was dug in the little church-yard nigh to the castle, her spirit rose again from her body, and knew her hour of trial had come.

And when the grave was closed and the mourners gone, the spirit stayed by the grave, afraid.

When evening came, the spirits of the dead rose in a white mist, each above his grave, and all prepared for their swift and dangerous flight towards the dark heavens.

"Now," saith she, "my body can no longer protect me with its earthly presence. I am separated from the world, and am no more of it. I must arise and meet death alone."

The first thing she knew of the great presence was a loud whirring of wings; she raised her head, and saw around her a crowd of evil birds. So afraid was she that she gave a loud and sudden cry, and at the sound the ill birds rose and hovered in the air between her and heaven.

"My sins have discovered me," she cried, "and now I fear death!"

And because she knew that before dawn she would have to account for her evil deeds, she lifted up her voice in loud keening. So sad was her cry that the pitying wind bore it down upon his wings into the little village at the foot of the mountain, that the people might hear and pray for a soul in its pa.s.sing.

But the people in the village were busy even so late with the harvest, and did not hear; only in one house where a mother sat with her sick child did the cry come, and she closed the shutter and fell to prayer.

"'Tis the banshee who crieth," she whispered, "and my Conneen so ill! 'Tis the banshee, and Sheila with the cheek of snow. G.o.d bid the fairy pa.s.s, and set the angels at my door! Whisht!" she cried to the playing young ones, "come beside my chair and pray."

And of her fear shall I sing, lest thou grow weary of my prose:

_Oh, whisht! I hear the banshee keen, All woful is her cry.

She comes along the gray boreen-- Pray G.o.d she pa.s.s us by._

_My wee Conneen is pale and weak, I hold him to my side; The rose is white on Sheila's cheek Since her young lover died._

_The little children from their play Creep to me full of fear; "Oh, whisht! the banshee comes," they say: "Whom does she weep for here?"_

_But Sheila leaves my chair to go, And flings the shutter wide; "Be it for me," she whispers low, "The banshee keened and cried."_

_G.o.d be between our house and harm, For trouble comes full fleet.

I hold the babe close in my arm; The fairy in the street._

But the wind that blew from the hill-side carried the keening of the little bride past the village, and blew it about the windows of the castle wherein Black Roderick dwelt. And as the cry keened and called, so did the sleepers turn in their beds and moan uneasily in their dreaming.

When the cry pa.s.sed the windows of the east, it went to the windows of the west, and there it tapped softly with fingers of the wind and called three times:

"Roderick! Roderick! Roderick!"

And at the first call Black Roderick turned in his bed and groaned. And at the second call he rose from his couch and said, in his anger:

"Who calleth, and will not let me rest?"

But at the third call he rose and went to the window in wonder, and seeing nothing he crept cold and trembling to his bed, muttering the half-forgotten prayers of his childhood; so long he lay in fear and amazement that he did not sleep till the lark hung singing in the heavens, and then he knew the night was gone and with it the ghosts that hide in the darkness. So he turned his face to the wall and slept. But the spirit of the little bride was speeding on her swift and terrible race to Paradise, and round her whirled three great black birds seeking for her destruction. And as she flew, one caught her by the long hair that swept behind her in the wind and drew her backward.

"Now," quoth she with a cry, "I can fly upward no longer; some evil thing draws me back from heaven."

And as she spoke a voice came out of the dark skies, and said: