[From Shadowland in Ellan Vannin, 1880]

CHAPTER IV.

Different modes adopted to get rid of the changeling, and how this was accomplished — Conclusion.

THE eventful night arrived. Betsey and her coadjutor are seated within the wide open hearth, upon which a turf fire is brightly burning, and over this is suspended a large iron pot, in which is some mysterious decoction, that both the women are watching with great interest, each in turn giving it a stir with a long wooden stick cut for the purpose.

'An' how did ye get them to bed at all, at all?' inquires the 'decent Manx body,' as she slowly works away at the uninviting-looking liquid.

'I toult them that if they'd jus' take a spell of lyin' down, they'd be the betther able to look afther the li'le [little] one, when I would be takin' a bit o' res' meself (I slep' whiles in the day, ye see). Well, wis that the masther, he persuaded the wife, an' says he, "Betsey," says he, when he got her out o' hearin', "I'll slip down to you jus' d'recly," says he; but between you an' me, Mistress Cain, I'd putten something in their supper, jough that 'll keep them quite [quiet] a few hours, I'm thinkin'.'

'You're shockin' claver about herbs, I've heard tell,' responded Mistress Cain, looking with due respect at her companion.

'Well it 'ud be quare if I warn', for my mother was wontherful for them things, an' her mother before her-'deed, there wasn' the likes of her in th' islan' ; they'd be sendin' for her from miles roun' when anything went wrong with man or beas' [beast], an' she'd be curin' them mos'ly. Well, now you're wantin' to know what I put them herbs an' all them eggshells into yonther pot, an' the shovel in the fire heatin' at me an' all. I'll tell ye then, an' lis'en, woman;' and as Betsey lowered her voice to a whisper, her assistant brought her head in close proximity to hear. ' When this here pot stuff begins to boil and to splutther, I'll take yon '-and a slight nod towards the cradle indicated that the unfortunate infant was the 'yon' meant-' an' put it sittin' near where it can see the_ stuff boilin' : you an' me 11 slip to the (]core, an' if then it '11 spake words, we'll do no more than go back, take out the red-hot shovel from th' ashes, put the chile [child] on to it, an' run with it out to the dungheap.

, Oh loss !' shuddered the other woman ; 'that seems terrible cruel.'

, Och, tut ! woman, don't be soft,'said Betsey; 'it's not no mortal babe at all-at all. It's on'y-you know what wis'out my sayin' it; and then we'll get our own chile back again, sure enough.'

I'm not likin' doin' it someway, though,' objected Mrs. Cain.

The two women after awhile became so engrossed in their talk that they were quite unconscious of the faint sound of the door, or even the breath of chilly night air that stole in as it opened. With all her wisdom, Mrs. Criggal had forgotten to fasten out intruders ; for in those days the Manx rarely or ever locked or barred their houses, the door being left ' on the latch' all night.

The two conspirators would have been dismayed could they have seen who had come in so stealthily upon them-the tall figure of the Irishwoman, imperfectly revealed in the dim light. The fire during the cooking of the strange compound had burnt very low, whilst the steam from the pot filled the little kitchen with a dense smoke, through which the faint glimmer of the ' slut,' or light burning in a platter on the table, only indicated its whereabouts, without at all illuminating the surroundings.

Slowly and noiselessly Mrs. Ryley advanced till she had safely ensconced herself in the dark corner at the left-hand side of the hearth, between Mrs. Cain and the cradle where lay the changeling. Her eyes, that glowed and burned beneath her shaggy brows, seemed to emit rays of baleful light, were fixed upon the two women, whilst she listened, scarcely breathing, and with strained attention, to their plans. In this way an

hour may have passed. Betsey ceased her low-spoken

communications, and, bending over the pan, said more audibly in tones of suppressed excitement

Th' eggs is risin', th' eggs is risin'. Now, Misthress Cain, ye'll help me as I tell ye. It won't be minutes till all's ready.'

I'm not likin' it,' whimpered the poor woman. "Ut nonsense-lend us a han', will ye. Don't ye know it's no real child ye've got to do with ? If I'd a'-known ye'd a-been that tenther for nothin', I'd a' got someone else to help me.'

'And if I'd a-known it was the likes o' this ye were wantin' me for to do, I wouldn' a' come a foot o' the road to ye.'

To this Betseygave only a contemptuous sniff, saying: 'Now, ye fool woman, do ye know what I'm wantin' ye to do ? Jus' to give me a lift with this heavy pot, so as I can put it where it will be seen by--well, them as is to see it ; then to come out to the doore wis me. I can do the res' without no help from no one; so you can go your ways home then. Give us a ban', and make haste.'

Just as Mrs. Cain was giving her very unwillinglyrendered assistance, Mistress Ryley turned to the cot and began hastily and most unmercifully pinching and slapping its unfortunate occupant, the poor infant giving noisy protest in the most awful yells.

'It's seen th' eggs! It's seen th' eggs !' cried Mistress Criggal triumphantly. ' Didn' ye hear it call out "Take me away!"-as plain as plain?'

' I don' know-oh loss, safe us ! this is terrible uncommon!'

' Didn' ye hear it call out " Take me away," I ax ye ?' Betsey again indignantly cried, to her trembling companion.

I Thë, thë [Yes, yes], mebbe I did. Oh loss? 'Hoult on to the pot, then, wis me, while I-' But what further Mistress Criggal was going to say is lost to the world; for, to her and Mrs. Cain's dismay, Clague rushed into the room carrying the kiern rod that had before befriended him.

' Help me, woman ! help me, for God's sake!' shrieked Betsey, 'or all will be spoilt;' and, throwing the pot down, both women ran forwards and seized upon Richard, but not before he had time to place the rod over the cradle, from whence these dreadful cries still issued, accompanied by a sound of struggling. While this is going on, a tall figure seems to rise suddenly from the ground, and Madam Ry ley stands before the bewildered Clague, who is endeavouring to release himself from the detaining hands of the women.

'Stand still, Richard Clague !' commanded the madwoman ; ' I will restore you your lost babe. Be quiet and patient.'

'Quite an' patient, indeed, an' three women holtin' on to me like this ;' for the Irishwoman had given her powerful aid to the other two, from whom Clague would have soon freed himself. 'Who are ye ?' he demanded. ' I'm thinkin' I've seen ye before, some-

where-wheere I cannot call to mind jus' now, I'm that worritted with all this throuble about the child.' 'As I said before, I will restore you your child.' 'Yon, indeed!' panted Betsey; 'if on'y I'd a-got it out safe-t on the dung-heap, ugh ! ugh !'

Meanwhile a dense and blinding smoke was rapidly filling the room ; and while the whole party paused in their hostilities in the endeavour to breathe, a scream, louder and more piercing than any of its predecessors, rang through the room, and Clague's struggles again became violent to free himself.

Let me go, will ye ! let me go, ye devils ! Lord!

that I should be held in by a pack o' women ! I tell ye But whatever he was going to say died on his lips. There is heard the tread of numerous tiny pattering feet. Some figure at the same time softly brushes past the listening group. The cries of

the infant suddenly cease. Again hundreds of light footsteps are heard, accompanied by a sound like the twittering of innumerable birds in spring, followed presently by the same heavier footsteps. The outer door opens for a second, letting in a faint peep of gray morning light. Then succeeds a dead stillness, till broken by a gentle murmur as of a baby just awaking out of sleep.

'Let go o' me, will ye !' again shouts Clague. 'Let me go to my baby!'

The spell that had influenced the whole party is broken. Richard is released, and all simultaneously

rush to the cradle, and then Betsey turns to rouse the decaying fire. When light is obtained, who could describe the joy of the parents to see their darling restored to them (Mrs. Clague had now joined the rest). We leave that to the imagination of the reader.

All the various actors in the last scene took unto themselves the credit of having brought about this happy result with their spells. Betsey and her friend, the 'decent Manx body,' each averred that it was the sight of their extraordinary brew that had frightened the changeling away ; whilst Mistress Ryley affirms that had it not been for her timely beating and pinching, the 'good people' would never have resumed possession of their fairy child, or restored the Clagues' their offspring.

Lastly, Richard positively asserts that he it was, and no other, that worked the charm by placing the kiern rod on the cradle ; and his wife, of course, as in duty bound, seconds him in this as in all else.

Where are there not to be found unbelievers ? and there were some sceptics, even in those days, who were inclined to give credence to a story said to be told by a girl called 'mad Chrissie,' who it was stated gave the following version of the affair

' She had been carrying her sister's baby, who had been left in her care, the mother having gone to Castletown to her husband's father, who was supposed to be dying. The husband himself was away at sea.

Chrissie, on the night in question, passed the Clagues', and seeing the door open, and Betsey fast asleep, the idea crossed her mind of substituting her puny sickly niece for the fine healthy baby within, " to spite Masther Clague, who was always dhrivin' her off the farm." She afterwards was " longin' tarrible for her own chile," and watching her opportunity, stole in and again effected an exchange, whilst the confusion of the struggle was going on, and the kitchen filled with the smoke which so completely hid her from view She was so fond of the little niece, that her sister had always hitherto been able with an easy mind to trust it to her care.'

This story did not get out till months had passed, and Chrissie's charge was dead. When sent for and questioned by Clague, the girl denied all knowledge of the matter.

Of course all right-minded Manx folk knew that it was the work of the fairies, and Clague maintained to his dying day that what had upset their wicked scheme, and restored to him and his now happy wife their beautiful babe, was the magic kiern rod.