mbled his sods with
practised skill, and set them alight in well-chosen places. But he
stayed only for a minute or so, till the little fluttering flames had
fairly taken a hold, and were sending golden threads running along the
netted fibres. Then he groped his way out again, and returned to his
seat on the bank. Presently, as he watched, he saw a red light
beginning to flicker through window and door, and growing steadier and
stronger. When it was at its brightest, he got up and turned away.
"That's the very way it would be shinin'," he said, "and I comin' along
the road to see Herself and Himself and the childer--God be good to them
all, wherever they may be. And that's the notion of it I'll keep in me
mind."

And Con the Quare One came no more to Lisconnel.

CHAPTER XI

MAD BELL

Not so very long before the sound of Con the Quare One's fiddle ceased
to enliven Lisconnel any more, Mad Bell's singing had begun to be heard
there occasionally, as it has been at intervals ever since she arrived
with her two housemates, Big Anne and the Dummy, and took up her abode
in the last of the cabins that you pass on the left hand, going towards
Sallinbeg. Perhaps Lisconnel should not reckon her among its residents,
so much of her time is spent on the tramp as an absentee. Still, she
sometimes has tarried with us for a long while, and she is understood to
have some property in the house-furniture, so it seems natural to
consider the place her home.

From the first it appeared obvious to all that the dementedness which
characterised the little wizened yellow-faced woman was of a much more
pronounced type than Con the Quare One's. Any attempt to spare people's
feelings by ignoring the fact would have been very futile, and it was
therefore lucky that the three new-comers, Mad Bell herself included,
were quite content to accept the situation. The neighbours were at first
inclined to commiserate Big Anne, who was pronounced to be "a dacint,
sinsible, poor woman," for the oddities of her household, the
incalculable flightiness of Mad Bell, and the impenetrable silence of
the Dummy. But to their condoling remarks she was wont to reply in
effect--"Ah sure, ma'am, that's the way I'm used to them, the crathurs.
Why, if Mad Bell said anythin' over-sinsible, or poor Winnie said
anythin' at all, it's wond'rin' I'd be what was goin' to happin us
next." And Big Anne evidently looked upon this as an uncomfortable frame
of mind. At fi