The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-08-26
The WITCH OF YELL.
From MacMnlan,s Magazine.

| Zetlander OF some 40 odd years, with q
| fresh color ana a thick coil of raven black
hair half hidden by her headFear, a
bright blue handkerchief spotted with
white. gave her good morning, and
| asked her if she would give me glass of
water and a hammock of oatcake, as had
been walking for some hours and was
| both hungry and thirsty.
And welcome" she said with the
pretty Shetland courtesy, If you be from
Ireland, mistress"
81 am Irish, =" / said: "but wouldn't you
! give an oatcake to an Englishwoman, my
| friendl Nor" as she shook her head reso-
| lutely. 'And how is that"
mo food of my baking will pass Scots
or Southron lips" she said, harshly. "Sit
We down" pointing to her own stool
''ye're fair tired out, mistress"
| laughed family as ! accepted the seat.
| Il have been trying to walk away from
myself, " / said and though I've tramped
| through a whole forenoon l haven't done
it yet"
/ with her lips, for her eyes kept their
steady sadness. Its far way you have
TO go. mistress; and you must walk by
| night stead o. day. You're married, -
| glancing down at my ungloved hands
| Have We ever borne a child2" l looked
| down at my black dress and nodded
! silently. The woman drew in her breath
| sharply as If she were hurt at heart.
"Ay," she said, 80 have I, and lost it
| too. Poor lass!' and to my intense aston
| ishment she stopped and kissed me once
| again. How old was hel" she went on
gravely, taking no heed at the wonder in
| my face. mine was man grown, but
yours must ha'- been but BARN -ye have
| the look Of BARN yourself"
Have I2' l said with dreary laugh
IAN old BARN I'm afraid. My boy was
| years old"
"Ay; and your mans alive? Do know
| your man2 And what for does he let you
come here to dree your weird alonel'
My man knows it's the kindest thing
he could do l said. And | think. per-
| haps, you know him. l added a little
| proudly. NEARLY every one in the islands
knows Hector MacHenneth."
"Ay do they; he's man, the Witch
| said emphatically, as she came out of the
cottage with plate of bannocks and a
! big cup of milk And there's never a
soul in the islands but he has done q kind
! turn or spoken a kind word to-even to
me"
why even to you'2" I asked My
husband has great respect for you; he
told me you were the wisest woman in
the islands, Lief"
Did he, now And I his brothers.
wife, the Witch said musingly
| started. Whose wife, Not Ronald
Mackenneth's, Ronald that died in Eng
land! n
THAT same Ronald, :" she said quietly
He died in the south, l know, and some
SOuthrOn brought the news to MacKen-
meth himself. But he lies buried away in
Q l,Ag Il NJ
where, Mistress Mackenneth? ?"
NO / wish | could tell you, poor soul, -
l said pItifully Il wish l could help
! you"
My bonny Ronald" she said, looking
out to the blue tumbling waves of the
sound, her eyes grave and sad and her
voice very low. Its little We thought of
! and the day We lay a-dYingn Then she
bent down little and looked sharply into
| my face.
Did ever any one in the islands say to
We that we two were not man and wife Z
| Did ever Machenneth Eimselfl"
Never Mackcnneth" ! said honestly
"Others have, though" She looked
| sharply at NE again; then caught my
| hand in hers, and dragged me up from my
! seat, Come VII me, YOU wife OF the Mac
| Kenneth, and I'll show you what hand
| fasting meaus TO a woman"
| drew my cloak round me with nv free
| hand, and we went slowly together over
! the scattered rocks and sand, and down a
| little grassy slope, till we stood in front
| of an upright stone with a round hold in
! its centre
! There, " said the witch, still holding
! my hand fast in hers, there's where we
were married, my man and l. See We
! here, Eleanor MacKenueth, do YOU love
| your man, or liked We your first lad bestl'
/ cried in my heart to thedead and gone
! Oscar to forgive me, aud then l looked
! the woman fairly IN the eyes, and ans
/ wered: Il love MacHenneth best"
Where were We married? In kirk. of
courset'
In kirk, yes. We were married in a
London church, ! said, the church of
! ST stephen"
.'kirH-Stephen, ay} Well, this is
! klrk-Cdin, where thousands have been
| made man and wife IN their day Go YOU
! nearer TO the stone, wife of MacKenncth,
! and yod shall be married there too, if
! you're no afraid
DO ! look afraid2" | said with a
smile; ana she smiled back at me-
| Put your hand closed, So-through
the hole in the stone" l obeyed with
some dincutlN for the hole was I'M
! evenly cut, and its edges were Jagged.
Now said the Witch, open you hand.
and hold 1t so, and now say after me-
| hesitated a moment, and then re-
peatej after her. In the name of the
one-eyed, the name of Odin, hold thee
and have through this life, and that life.
and all lives to follow. call thee and
keep thee, my hand for the witness. my
lips for thy kissing, my strength for thy
/ weakness, my tears for thy sorrow, my
breast for thy head when thou bound
10 sleeping, my life for thy caliug''--
Then she stopped and looked vaguely at
me and beyond me, and | finished the
oath with words that rose in my mind.
though had never heard them before:
My life for thy calling. my death
for thy living. Hear, Thor, and hear.
Odin, and Hector Macheuneth. " Then |
drew my hand out from the hole and
turned to the Witch; but the next min
ute | saw that her thoughts were not
with me, or with this material world AT
ali, and ! went softly away, leaving her
standing with her back 10 the "a and her
/ eyes on the great stone, listening, listen.
/ ing intently and vainly, with her hand
] against her ear.