they got on shore, an’ made away down South from where the landin’ was made at Killala. But, anyhow, they say that none of them was ever heerd of agin. But they was thraced through Ardnaree an’ Lough Conn, an’ through Castlebar Lake an’ Lough Carra, an’ through Lough Mask an’ Lough Corrib. But they niver kem out through Galway, for the river was watched for thim day an’ night be the sodgers; and how they got along God knows! for ’twas said they suffered quare hardships. They tuk the chist an’ the gun carriage an’ the horses in the boat, an’ whin they couldn’t go no further they dhragged the boat over the land to the next lake, an’ so on. Sure one dhry sayson, when the wathers iv Corrib[Pg 26] was down feet lower nor they was iver known afore, a boat was found up at the Bealanabrack end that had lay there for years; but the min nor the horses nor the treasure was never heerd of from that day to this—so they say,” he added, in a mysterious way, and he renewed his attention to the punch, as if his tale was ended.

[Pg 26]

“But, man alive!” said McGlown, “that’s only a part. Go on, man dear! an’ fenesh the punch after.”

“Oh, oh! Yes, of course, you want to know the end. Well! no wan knows the end. But they used to say that whin the min lift the boat they wint due west, till one night they sthruck the mountain beyant; an’ that there they buried the chist an’ killed the horses, or rode away on them. But anyhow, they wor niver seen again; an’ as sure as you’re alive, the money is there in the hill! For luk at the name iv it! Why did any wan iver call it ‘Knockcalltore’—an’ that’s Irish for ‘the Hill of the Lost Gold’—if the money isn’t there?”

“Thrue for ye!” murmured an old woman with a cutty pipe. “For why, indeed? There’s some people what won’t believe nothin’ altho’ it’s undher their eyes!” and she puffed away in silent rebuke to the spirit of scepticism—which, by the way, had not been manifested by any person present.

There was a long pause, broken only by one of the old women, who occasionally gave a sort of half-grunt, half-sigh, as though unconsciously to fill up the hiatus in the talk. She was a ‘keener’ by profession, and was[Pg 27] evidently well fitted to, and well drilled in, her work. Presently old Moynahan broke the silence:—

[Pg 27]

“Well! it’s a mighty quare thing anyhow that the hill beyant has been singled out for laygends and sthories and gossip iv all kinds consarnin’ shnakes an’ the like. An’ I’m not so sure, 

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