260 SPORTING REMINISCENCES 



had to stop him, and drop down in a dead faint in 

 the kitchen. 



! When he was brought to he stammered out a 

 story of how, as he came along the banks of the 

 river, he saw a woman in white sitting on the bank 

 crying aloud and wringing her hands. 



Believing it to be one of the maids come out to 

 frighten him, he stole to a stack for a sod of turf, 

 crept on and threw it. It passed through the figure 

 which disappeared. 



" An* Miss Anne is dead," he wailed, *' for it 

 was the Banshee. God forgive me for cruisting 

 her." 



The letters which he had brought said that Miss 

 Anne was so much better that she had gone for 

 a long drive. 



But — two days later — came different news. My 

 Aunt Anne had died at eight o'clock on the evening 

 when the man had been frightened and just at 

 the hour when he had seen the woman sitting 

 by the river. 



There is a more curious and more incredible 

 story of Castle Fergus. One of a hare. 



As in all old Irish yards an archway for washing 

 carriages under leads to the outer yards and in 

 this two of my uncles and James Conlon, one of 

 the men, were standing one morning when a hare 

 came dashing into it. The place was full of hares 

 so they only turned to see which of the dogs was 

 in pursuit, but instead of running back she seemed 



