malady,
committed suicide. At this time the public press had not, as now,
familiarised the minds of the people to that dreadful crime, and it was
consequently looked upon _then_ with an intensity of horror of which we
can scarcely entertain any adequate notion. His farm remained
unoccupied, for while an acre of land could be obtained in any other
quarter, no man would enter upon such unhallowed premises. The house was
locked up, and it was currently reported that Stephenson and the devil
each night repeated the hanging scene in the stable; and that when the
former was committing the "hopeless sin," the halter slipped several
times from the beam of the stable-loft, when Satan came, in the shape of
a dark-complexioned man with a hollow voice, and secured the rope until
Stephenson's end was accomplished.

In this stable did the wanderer take up her residence at night; and when
we consider the belief of the people in the night-scenes which were
supposed to occur in it, we need not be surprised at the new features of
horror which this circumstance superadded to her character. Her presence
and appearance in the parish were dreadful; a public outcry was soon
raised against her, which, were it not from fear of her power over their
lives and cattle, might have ended in her death. None, however, had
courage to grapple with her, or to attempt expelling her by violence,
lest a signal vengeance might be taken on any who dared to injure a
woman that could call in the terrible aid of the _Lianhan Shee_.

In this state of feeling they applied to the parish priest, who, on
hearing the marvellous stories related concerning her, and on
questioning each man closely upon his authority, could perceive that,
like most other reports, they were to be traced principally to the
imagination and fears of the people. He ascertained, however, enough
from Bartley Sullivan to justify a belief that there was something
certainly uncommon about the woman; and being of a cold, phlegmatic
disposition, with some humour, he desired them to go home, if they were
wise--he shook his head mysteriously as he spoke--"and do the woman no
injury, if they didn't wish"--and with this abrupt hint he sent them
about their business.

This, however, did not satisfy them. In the same parish lived a
suspended priest, called Father Philip O'Dallaghy, who supported
himself, as most of them do, by curing certain diseases of the
people--miraculously! He had no other means of