Halting in the grove at one side of the ruin, he listened to the elfin revelry, and the laughter and singing made him all the more determined to proceed.
Numbers of little people, the largest about the size of a child of five years old, were dancing to the music of flutes and fiddles, while others drank and feasted.
“Welcome, Jamie Freel! welcome, welcome, Jamie!” cried the company, perceiving their visitor. The word “Welcome” was caught up and repeated by every voice in the castle.
Time flew, and Jamie was enjoying himself very much, when his hosts said, “We’re going to ride to Dublin tonight to steal a young lady. Will you come too, Jamie Freel?”
“Aye, that will I!” cried the rash youth, thirsting for adventure.
A troop of horses stood at the door. Jamie mounted and his steed rose with him into the air. He was presently flying over his mother’s cottage, surrounded by the elfin troop, and on and on they went, over bold mountains, over little hills, over the deep Lough Swilley, over towns and cottages, where people were burning nuts, and eating apples, and keeping merry Halloween. It seemed to Jamie that they flew all round Ireland before they got to Dublin.
“This is Derry,” said the fairies, flying over the cathedral spire; and what was said by one voice was repeated by all the rest, till fifty little voices were crying out, “Derry! Derry! Derry!”
In like manner was Jamie informed as they passed over each town on the route, and at length he heard the silvery voices cry, “Dublin! Dublin!”
It was no mean dwelling that was to be honoured by the fairy visit, but one of the finest houses in Stephen’s Green.
The troop dismounted near a window, and Jamie saw a beautiful face, on a pillow in a splendid bed. He saw the young lady lifted and carried away, while the stick which was dropped in her place on the bed took her exact form.
The lady was placed before one rider and carried a short way, then given to another, and the names of the towns were cried out as before.
They were approaching home. Jamie heard “Rathmullan”, “Milford”, “Tamney”, and then he knew they were near his own house.
“You’ve all had your turn at carrying the young lady,” said he. “Why wouldn’t I get her for a wee piece?”
“Ay, Jamie,” replied they, pleasantly, “you may take your turn at carrying her, to be sure.”
Holding his prize very tightly, he dropped down near his mother’s door.
“Jamie Freel, Jamie Freel! is that the way you treat us?” cried they, and they too dropped down near the door.
Jamie held fast, though he knew not what he was holding, for the little folk turned the lady into all sorts of strange shapes. At one moment she was a black dog, barking and trying to bite; at another, a glowing bar of iron, which yet had no heat; then, again, a sack of wool.
But still Jamie held her, and the baffled elves were turning away, when a tiny woman, the smallest of the party, exclaimed, “Jamie Freel has her awa’ frae us, but he sall hae nae gude o’ her, for I’ll mak’ her deaf and dumb,” and she threw something over the young girl.
While they rode off disappointed, Jamie lifted the latch and went in.
“Jamie, man!” cried his mother, “you’ve been awa’ all night; what have they done on you?”
“Naething bad, mother; I ha’ the very best of gude luck. Here’s a beautiful young lady I ha’ brought you for company.”
“Bless us an’ save us!” exclaimed the mother, and for some minutes she was so astonished that she could not think of anything else to say.
Jamie told his story of the night’s adventure, ending by saying, “Surely you wouldna have allowed me to let her gang with them to be lost forever?”
“But a lady, Jamie! How can a lady eat we’er poor diet, and live in we’er poor way? I ax you that, you foolitch fellow?”
“Weel, mother, sure it’s better for her to be here nor over yonder,” and he pointed in the direction of the castle.
Meanwhile, the deaf and dumb girl shivered in her light clothing, stepping close to the humble turf fire.
“Poor creature, she’s quare and handsome! Nae wonder they set their hearts on her,” said the old woman, gazing at her guest with pity and admiration. “We maun dress her first; but what, in the name o’ fortune, hae I fit for the likes o’ her to wear?”
She went to her press in “the room”, and took out her Sunday gown of brown drugget; she then opened a drawer and drew forth a pair of white stockings, a long snowy garment of fine linen, and a cap, her “dead dress”, as she called it.
These articles of attire had long been ready for a certain triste ceremony, in which she would some day fill the chief part, and only saw the light occasionally, when they were hung out to air; but she was willing to give even these to the fair trembling visitor, who was turning in dumb sorrow and wonder from her to Jamie, and from Jamie back to her.
The poor girl suffered herself to be dressed, and then sat down on a “creepie” in the chimney corner, and buried her face in her hands.
“What’ll we do to keep up a lady like thou?” cried the old woman.
“I’ll work for you both, mother,” replied the son.
“An’ how could a lady live on we’er poor diet?” she repeated.
“I’ll work for her,” was all Jamie’s answer.
He kept his word. The young lady was very sad for a long time, and tears stole down her cheeks many an evening while the old woman spun by the fire, and Jamie made salmon nets, an accomplishment lately acquired by him, in hopes of adding to the comfort of his guest.
But she was always gentle, and tried to smile when she perceived them looking at her; and by degrees she adapted herself to their ways and mode of life. It was not very long before she began to feed the pig, mash potatoes and meal for the fowls, and knit blue worsted socks.
So a year passed, and Halloween came round again. “Mother,” said Jamie, taking down his cap, “I’m off to the ould castle to seek my fortune.”
“Are you mad, Jamie?” cried his mother, in terror; “sure they’ll kill you this time for what you done on them last year.”
Jamie made light of her fears and went his way.
As he reached the crabtree grove, he saw bright lights in the castle windows as before, and heard loud talking. Creeping under the window, he heard the wee folk say, “That was a poor trick Jamie Freel played us this night last year, when he stole the nice young lady from us.”
“Ay,” said the tiny woman, “an’ I punished him for it, for there she sits, a dumb image by his hearth; but he does na’ know that three drops out o’ this glass I hold in my hand wad gie her her hearing and her speeches back again.”
Jamie’s heart beat fast as he entered the hall. Again he was greeted by a chorus of welcomes from the company – “Here comes Jamie Freel! welcome, welcome, Jamie!”
As soon as the tumult subsided, the little woman said, “You be to drink our health, Jamie, out o’ this glass in my hand.”
Jamie snatched the glass from her and darted to the door. He never knew how he reached his cabin, but he arrived there breathless, and sank on a stove by the fire.
“You’re kilt surely this time, my poor boy,” said