The Highland monthly - National Library of Scotland

A IrtLC Story of the Banshee. 763
reading. " Well, Frank," he said, " Go on ; why
do you
stop ?" Then catching sight of my face— " Why, what's
the matter ; are you ill ?" " I think the heat"—stammered
I, unwilling to alarm my old friend. " I daresay the room
feels close," he said ;
" never mind the paper. Go and get
hold of Tim and amuse yourself. I hope I shall be able
to join you to-morrow." I hurried down stairs, but did
not feel inclined for Tim's society ; the sound of thc-it
dreadful 7cail was still in my ears I took my rod, made
my way to the river, and threw myself on the bank to
think over what had taken place. I tried to persuade
myself that my imagination had played me a trick, but I
knew quite well that it was nothing of the sort, I had
never been of an imaginative temperament, and my sur-
roundings at the time were of the m.ost matter-of-fact
description. My mind was entirely occupied with Parlia-
mentary details at the time when I first heard the sound,
and although it began in a faint distant echo, it became so
loud at last that the whole room seemed filled with it, and
yet, strangest circumstance of all, my friend evidently
heard nothing of it. I retraced my steps towards Kilcorrie,
and as I approached the house saw the doctor's car at the
door. On entering the hall I met the doctor himself
descending the stairs. I found my old friend was seriously
ill.
Proceeding upstairs I met old Molly, the housekeeper,
wringing her hands, while tears streamed down her
wrinkled cheeks. "Why, Molly," said I, "what's the
matter?" "Oh! the master, the poor m^aster," sobbed
Molly. "Oh, yes," I said, "the doctor told me he was not
so well, but I hope he will soon be better. "Mr Frank,''
said Molly, " he will never get better T Then coming clo^e
to me she whispered in an awestruck voice, " Tim he.ud
the Banshee wailing under the bedroom window just at the
time he took the turn." And Molly fell to weeping afresh,
and wringing her hands. Within a week from that niL;'nt
in\' poor old friend breathed his las!, and the Banshee's
j)i"ophec\' was fulfilled.