Shiana

Front matter

SHIANA

SHIANA

From the Irish

The Three Wishes

SHIANA

CHAPTER I.

THE THREE WISHES.

By the fireside. Peg, Nora, Abbie, little Sheila, and Kate Buckley.

Nora.—Peg, tell us a story.

Peg.—I like that! Tell a story yourself.

Abbie.—She's no good, Peg; we would rather have your story.

Sheila.—Do tell one, Peg; we will be very quiet.

Peg.—How well you kept quiet last night, didn't you? when I was telling "The Dog with the Eight Legs!"

Sheila.—Yes, because Kate Buckley wouldn't stop pinching me.

Kate.—What a story! I wasn't pinching you, you little witch!

Abbie.—Don't mind her, Kate. There was nobody pinching her she is only pretending that there was.

Sheila.—There was, indeed; and if there hadn't been I wouldn't have screamed.

Nora.—Tell Peg that you won't scream now, and she will tell us a story.

Sheila.—I won't scream, Peg, whatever happens to me.

Peg.—Well, then, sit here near me, so that no one can pinch you unknown to me.

Kate.—I'll engage the cat will pinch her. You little hussy, we would be having a fine story but for you and your screeching.

Abbie.—Hush, Kate, or you'll make her cry and we'll have no story. If we make Peg angry she won't tell a story to-night. Now, Peg, everybody's quiet, waiting for a story from you.

Peg.—There was a man long ago, and his name was Shiana, and he was a shoemaker. He had a nice cosy little house at the foot of a hill, on the sheltered side. He had a soogaun chair which he had made for himself, and he used to sit in it in the evening when the day's work was done, and when he sat in it he was very comfortable. He had a malvogue of meal hanging up near the fire, and now and then he used to put his hand into it and take a handful of the meal, and chew it at his leisure. He had an apple-tree growing outside his door, and when he used to be thirsty from chewing the meal he would put his hand into the tree and take one of the apples, and eat it.

Sheila.—Oh, Peg, wasn't it nice!

Peg.—Which was nice, the chair or the meal or the apple?

Sheila.—The apple, to be sure.

Kate.—I would rather have the meal. The apple wouldn't take one's hunger away.

Abbie.—I would rather have the chair, and I would make Peg sit in it and tell stories.

Peg.—You are good at flattery, Abbie.

Abbie.—You are better at stories, Peg. How did it go with Shiana?

Peg.—One day, as he was making shoes, he found that he had no more leather, nor thread, nor wax. He had put on the last patch, and had made the last stitch, and he had to go and get materials before he could make any more shoes. He set out in the morning, with three shillings in his pocket, and he was not more than a mile from the house when he met a poor man asking for alms.

"Give me alms for the Saviour's sake, and for the souls of your dead, and for your health," said the poor man.

Shiana gave him a shilling, and then he had only two shillings. He said to himself that perhaps the two shillings would do for what he wanted. He was only another mile from home when he met a poor woman, who was bare-footed.

"Give me some help," said she, "for the Saviour's sake, and for the souls of your dead, and for your health."

He had pity on her, and gave her a shilling, and she went away. He had only one shilling then, but he went on, trusting that he might meet with some good fortune that would enable him to do his errand. Soon afterwards he met a child crying with cold and hunger.

"For the Saviour's sake," said the child, "give me something to eat."

There was an inn close by, and Shiana went into it and bought a loaf of bread and brought it to the child. When the child received the bread his appearance changed. He grew tall, and a strange light glowed in his eyes and in his features, so that Shiana was terrified.

Sheila.—Oh, dear me, Peg, I suppose poor Shiana fainted.

Peg.—He did not faint, but indeed it was all he could do to keep from it. As soon as he could speak he said,

"What sort of person are you?" And the answer he got was,

"Shiana, God is gracious to you. I am an angel. I am the third angel to whom you have given alms to-day for the Saviour's sake. And now you are to have three wishes from the God of Glory. Ask now of God any three wishes you please, and you will get them. But I have one piece of advice to give you. Don't forget Mercy."

"And do you tell me that I shall get my wish?" said Shiana.

"Certainly I do," said the angel.

"Very well," said Shiana. "I have a nice little soogaun chair at home, and every dalteen that comes in must needs sit in it. The next person that sits in it, except myself, may he stick in it!"

"Oh, fie, fie, Shiana!" said the angel; "there is a beautiful wish gone to waste. You have two more; don't forget Mercy."

"I have," said Shiana, "a little malvogue of meal at home, and every dalteen that comes in must needs push his fist into it. The next person that puts his hand into that malvogue, except myself, may he stick in it!"

"Oh, Shiana, Shiana, you have not an atom of sense!" said the angel. "Now you have only one wish more. Ask the Mercy of God for your soul."

"Oh, you are right," said Shiana; "I was near forgetting it. I have a little apple-tree beside my door, and every dalteen that comes the way must needs put up his hand and pull an apple and carry it off. The next person, except myself, that puts his hand into that tree, may he stick in it!—Oh, people," said he, as he burst out laughing, "won't I make fun of them!"

When he came out of his laughing-fits, he looked up, and the angel was gone. He thought for a good while of the position he was in. At last he said to himself, "Well now, there isn't a greater fool in Ireland than I! If I had three people stuck by this time, one in the chair, and one in the malvogue, and one in the tree, what good would that do me, far from home, without food or drink or money?"

No sooner had he said it than he saw opposite him, in the place where the angel had been, a tall, slight, black-haired man, who was staring at him, with a sort of electric fire coming out of his eyes like baneful sparks. He had two horns, like those of a he-goat, and a long, coarse, steel-grey "goatee" beard; a tail like a fox's tail, and a hoof like a bull's hoof on one of his feet. Shiana's mouth and eyes opened wide, and he ceased speaking. After a while the Black Man spoke.

"Shiana," said he, "you need not be afraid of me. I do not mean to do you harm. I would like to do you good if you would take my advice. I heard you say just now that you were without food or drink or money. I would give you as much money as you could want, on one small condition only."

"And, be hanged to you!" said Shiana, his speech returning to him, "couldn't you say that without paralysing a man with your staring, whoever you may be?"

"You need not care who I am; but I will give you money enough now to buy as much leather as will keep you working for thirteen years, on this condition—that you will come with me then."

"And if I make the bargain with you, where will we go then?"

"Won't it be time enough for you to ask that question when the leather is used up and we shall be starting?"

"You are sharp-witted. Have your way. Let us see the money."

"You are sharp-witted. Look here!"—the Black Man put his hand into his pocket and drew out a large purse, and from the purse he let out upon his palm a little heap of fine yellow gold.

"Look," said he, and he stretched out his hand and put the heap of beautiful glittering pieces up under the eyes of poor Shiana. Shiana held out both his hands, and the fingers of the hands spread themselves toward the gold.

"Gently!" said the Black Man, drawing the gold back to him; "the bargain is not made yet."

"Let it be a bargain," said Shiana.

"Without fail?" said the Black Man.

"Without fail," said Shiana.

"By the virtue of the Holy Things?" said the Black Man.

"By the virtue of the Holy Things," said Shiana.

mul:Séadna/1

The Bargain Concluded

CHAPTER II.

THE BARGAIN CONCLUDED.

Nora.—Well Peg! We are here—again. I am out of breath I was running. I was afraid—that the story would be going on before I came, and that I should have lost some of it.

Peg.—Indeed, Nora dear, we would wait for you. It is not long since Abbie came.

Abbie.—No, for we were doing a churning, and I had to go west with the butter to Ballinyarra; and when I was coming home by the short cut, the night fell, and I promise you I got a start. I was thinking of Shiana, and of the gold, and of the Black Man and of the sparks that were coming out of his eyes, while I was running, so that I might not be late, when I raised my head, and what should I see but something standing right opposite me—the gollaun! At the first look I gave at it I could have sworn it had horns!

Nora.—Oh, nonsense, Abbie, be quiet, and don't be bothering us with your gollauns and your horns. Horns on a gollaun! Think of it!

Abbie.—Perhaps if you'd been there yourself you wouldn't have been so ready with your fun.

Sheila.—See now, who is stopping the story! Maybe Kate Buckley would say it was I?

Kate.—I won't, Sheila. You are a good girl to-night, and I am very fond of you, my darling, my heart's darling!

Sheila.—Oh, yes indeed! Wait till you are vexed, and maybe then you won't say "my darling!"

Abbie.—Now, now, stop, girls. I and my gollaun are the cause of all this trouble. Put away that stocking, Peg, and let us have the story. Did Shiana get the purse? Many a person has been near getting a purse and then didn't get it.

Peg.—As soon as Shiana said the words: "by the virtue of the Holy Things!" a change came over the appearance of the Black Man. He showed his teeth, both above and below, and they were tightly clenched. A sort of crooning sound came from his mouth, but Shiana could not make out whether he was laughing or growling. But when he looked up into the Black Man's eyes, the same terror was near coming upon him that he had felt at first. He saw well enough that the fellow was not laughing. He had never seen a worse pair of eyes, nor a more malignant look than the look that was in them, nor a brow so hard and forbidding as the brow that was above them; so he did not speak, and he did his best to pretend that he did not notice the growling. At the same time the Black Man let the gold out again upon his hand, and counted it.

"Here," said he. "Shiana, there are a hundred pounds for you for the first shilling you gave away to-day. Are you paid?"

"It is a big return," said Shiana. "It is only right that I should be."

"Right or wrong," said the Black Man, "are you paid?" and the growling became sharper and quicker.

"Oh, I am paid, I am paid," said Shiana, "my thanks to you."

"Here, then," said he. "There is another hundred for you, for the second shilling you gave away today."

"That is the shilling I gave to the woman who was bare-footed."

"That is the shilling you gave to the same lady."

"If she was a lady, how did she come to be bare-footed? And what made her take my shilling from me, when I had only one other shilling left?"

"If she was a lady! If you only knew! She is the Lady that ruined me!"

While he was saying those words he began to tremble, hand and foot. The growling ceased. His head fell back upon his neck. He gazed up into the sky. A death-like appearance came over him, and the look of a corpse upon his face.

When Shiana saw this change of colour he was very much surprised.

"This," said he, carelessly, "cannot be the first time that you have heard tell of that Lady."

The Black Man jumped. He struck a blow with his hoof upon the ground, so that the sod under Shiana's foot trembled.

"Maiming to you!" said he. "Shut your mouth or you will be hurt!"

"I beg your pardon, sir," said Shiana, meekly.

"I thought that perhaps you had taken a little drop, seeing that you gave me a hundred pounds in exchange for a shilling."

"I would give you that, and seven hundred, if I could take away anything from the good that that same shilling did; but since you gave it away for the Saviour's sake, it is for ever impossible to spoil the good it has done."

"And," said Shiana, "what need is there to spoil the good? May you not as well leave alone the good that was done by that shilling?"

"You talk too much; too much altogether. I told you to shut your mouth. Here! There is the whole purse for you," said the Black Man.

"I suppose there is no fear, sir," said Shiana, "that there wouldn't be enough in it to last the time? There is many a day in thirteen years. A man would have made many a shoe during that length of time, and there's many a way in which he would need a shilling."

"Don't be uneasy," said the Black Man, giving a little laugh. "Draw out of it as hard as ever you can. It will be as plump the last day as it is to-day. After that you won't have much use for it."

Shiana was satisfied.

"Thirteen years!" he said to himself. "And power to draw out of it as hard as I can. He made me swear by the virtue of the Holy Things, but I swear by every oath and vow to you, little purse, that you will be made to play music!—Good-bye to you," said he to the Black Man.

He turned on his heel to go home, but when he turned, on went the Black Man beside him. He quickened his pace. The other quickened his too.

"What shall I do?" said Shiana to himself. "The neighbours will see him."

"Never fear," said the Black Man. "Nobody will see me but yourself. I must escort you home, and learn the way there, and get a look at that soogaun chair of yours, and at the malvogue and at the apples."

"Bad luck to them for a chair and a malvogue and an apple-tree! Three beautiful things have been spoilt for me to-day because of them," said Shiana.

"That is not the worst part of the story," said the Black Man; "but if a neighbour comes in and sits in the chair, you will have to give him house-room, free of rent, because you won't be able to put him out when you have got him stuck in the chair."

"Good gracious me! What shall I do if there are three people stuck at home before me now?" said Shiana. "Perhaps, sir, you would be able to release them. Come along. You are welcome a thousand times."

"Patience, patience, Shiana!" said the Black Man. "There is nobody stuck yet. You were churlish a while ago, and now 'I am welcome a thousand times.' Ah! Shiana, that is a welcome for your own good."

"Well, the way the case stands, sir" said Shiana, and he looked up at the horns and down at the hoof.

"Oh, I see," said the Black Man. "You don't like the make of this shoe, nor the kind of ornament that is on my head. Never mind that. When you get used to them you will find no fault with them at all."

"Why, indeed and indeed now, sir," said Shiana, "believe me, I was not thinking of them. But if the neighbours were to see you they would be frightened, and harm might be done perhaps."

"The very thing! Haven't I just told you there was no fear that anybody would see me but yourself?" said the Black Man.

"Very well," said Shiana. "Come along."

Sheila.—Oh, goodness, Peg! I think if I were to see him the life would go out of me there and then.

Kate.—What's the good of your talking like that? Didn't he say that no one could see him but Shiana himself?

Sheila.—Ah, Kate dear, how do you know he was telling the truth? I wouldn't believe a word from the rogue.

Kate.—Didn't he give the money to Shiana all right?

Abbie.—How do you know it was really money? I heard somebody say that old Michael Redmond was in a public-house one day in Millstreet, and that he owed the landlady two and eightpence, and that she was keeping his hat in pledge for the money. Michael went out into the yard and picked up four or five little bits of slate, and after doing some sort of devilment over them, he took them in to her, and when she looked at them she thought they were lawful money, and she gave him his hat. They used to say that Michael learned "Freemashun" from the Knight, and that he could make a goat of you, but that if the wind changed while you were a goat, he could not turn you back.

James Buckley.—God save you all here!

Peg.—Oh, God and Mary be with you, James. It is your sister you want, I suppose.

James.—Yes, she is told to come home at once. Nell has come.

Kate.—Oh, nonsense, James! When did she come?

James.—Just a little while ago.

Kate.—God give a good night to you, Peg, and to you all.

Peg.—May you go safe, Kate.

Kate.—You won't tell any more to-night, Peg?

Peg.—Very well, I won't, Kate.

The Black Man Disappears

CHAPTER III.

THE BLACK MAN DISAPPEARS.

Peg.—Welcome, Kate!

Kate.—Long life to you, Peg! I fancy I am the first to-night.

Peg.—Indeed you are; you are first of them all, except little Sheila.

Kate.—How could I be before Sheila, who is always here with you?

Sheila.—She will be before everybody now since her sister has a little son.

Peg.—Hush, you little hussy. How is Nell, Kate?

Kate.—She is very well, Peg, and the baby is well, too. And, oh! indeed and indeed, Peg, he is the nicest and prettiest and fairest baby you ever set eyes upon, and I am his mother.

Peg.—You! I thought Nell was his mother.

Kate.—Ah, what nonsense I am talking! Of course, so she is. But it was I that baptized him.

Peg.—What? Kate, my dear, what was the need for that when he wasn't going to die? Wasn't the priest there?

Kate.—Ach, what is that I am saying? Why, of course, it was the priest that baptized him, and it was I that stood for him for the baptism, myself and James. But what put it into your head that he should be going to die, Peg? There are no signs of dying about him, God bless him!—never you fear.

Peg.—Why, you said first that you were his mother, and then that it was you that had baptized him; and the Catechism says that nobody but the priest could baptize him, unless he were dying and that there was no priest there.

Sheila.—I think the way it is with Kate just now is that her foot doesn't know what her hand is going to do.

Kate.—I declare, Sheila, you are right! My foot doesn't know what my hand will do, and I myself don't know what my foot or my hand will do! If you saw him, Sheila, you would be very fond of him. I am so fond of him myself that I think I shall eat him!

Abbie (coming in).—Why, Kate, what is that you are saying? I shouldn't like you to be very fond of me, if that is what you would do to me!

Peg.—Welcome, Abbie! Have you seen Nora coming?

Abbie.—She is just coming to the door. She was beckoning to me to wait for her, but I was afraid that I would lose some of that story of Shiana.

Nora (coming in).—You see now, Abbie, it wasn't worth your while not to wait for me.

Peg.—Welcome, Nora! You haven't done badly; you are not far behind her. Now, girls, move up here near the fire. The evening is a little bit chilly. There! Now I think we are pretty snug.

Abbie.—See how well Sheila settles herself near Kate without being afraid that she will be pinched!

Sheila.—Whisper, Kate! What is his name?

Kate.—It is Edmund.

Peg.—And his father is Edmund. This is young Edmund—Edmund ōg O'Flynn. It is a fine name, Kate. I congratulate you.

Nora.—And I congratulate Shiana, Peg, because he got the purse, with leave to draw out of it. But how did he part with the vagabond? Or did he part with him at all?

Sheila.—I'm afraid he didn't part well with him.

Peg.—He didn't part with him until they reached Shiana's house. They had hardly turned their faces homeward when Shiana saw the child again with the loaf under his arm, and he was in the same childish form as when he saw him first. He looked very gratefully at Shiana, and then fled out of his sight.

Not long after that, Shiana saw the barefooted woman, and she also looked at him very thankfully, and she opened her right hand so that he saw the shilling there in the middle of her palm, and then she fled from his sight just as the child had done.

After another while Shiana saw, walking on the road out before him, the poor man to whom he had given the first shilling. The poor man's back was turned to him, but even so he knew him quite well.

"I wonder," said Shiana to himself, "if he has kept the shilling I gave him, as the woman kept hers, and as the child kept the loaf."

No sooner had he thought that, than the poor man turned on his heel and faced them. There were two large tears falling from his eyes. He stretched out his two hands, wide open, so that Shiana could see his two palms, and they were both empty. When Shiana saw that, he gave a side look at the Black Man, but though he did, he took no notice of it. He did not pretend to have seen the poor man. When Shiana looked back again, the poor man was gone.

They went on. Neither of them spoke a word. One of the neighbours met them, and saluted Shiana.

"God and Mary with you, Shiana," said he.

"How early in the day you have come home from the town, and you alone too!"

"I hadn't much to do," said he, and he gave another side-look at the Black Man. The Black Man took no notice of him, and then Shiana understood that the neighbour had not seen him.

They went into the house. The chair was there near the fireplace, and it had not stirred since Shiana had left it in the morning. The malvogue was hanging there, just as he had seen it in the morning when he had taken the last handful of meal out of it. The Black Man looked at the chair and at the malvogue. Then he looked at Shiana.

"Move that," said he.

Shiana went over and put his hand on the back of the chair.

"Oh!" said he. "It has stuck!"

He put both hands on it. He failed to make it bend or turn.

"Good gracious!" said he. "It is as firm as the handle in a mallet!"

"Move the malvogue" said the Black Man. He went up and put his hand on the malvogue. It was stuck as tightly to the side of the wall as a stone would stick to the ice.

Shiana paused and bent his head.

"Well," said he, "I am done for now, if I never was before. I don't know in the world nor in all creation what I am to do! I don't know from the five heights of Heaven what I shall do! No matter what care I take about it, somebody will come, and in spite of my utmost efforts to prevent him, he'll sit in it, and the whole countryside will be in red war round me! I shall be killed on my own hearthstone without pity or remorse!—Perhaps, sir, that you would be able to take the curse off them?"

"'Perhaps I would be able to take the curse off them,' after he himself had put it upon them with all his heart," said the Black Man, bitterly. "'Wouldn't he make fun of them!'—Where is the fun now?"

"The fun is in a bad way, I admit," said Shiana, "but even if it is, it is not right for you to throw it in my face. I suppose you never made a bad blunder yourself. Who is that lady that ruined you?"

"Stop! Stop, Shiana! Let us drop it, blunder as it is. I will take the curse off these things for you, on condition that you will never speak to anyone, living or dead, about the bargain that you and I have made with one another."

"Have your condition and welcome," said Shiana.

"I assure you that I have no desire to speak of it to anyone. The fact is, I was afraid that you would be chattering about it to somebody. But if you wish us both to keep it secret, I am quite satisfied."

The Black Man went up and bent down near the chair, and with the thumb of his right hand he made a ring on the ground round about it, and Shiana noticed that out of the place where his thumb was drawn along the ground there arose a vapour like the vapour of fire, and that the thumb made a mark upon the ground such as a bar of red-hot iron would make.

Then Shiana looked out at the apple-tree, in dread lest perhaps he might see a boy stuck high up in it. He went out, and the Black Man went with him. Shiana did not see any person in the tree, but he saw what appeared to be a bird on the topmost branch. The bird was shaking its wings as if it were trying to rise from the tree and were not able. They came near to the tree. Shiana looked at the Black Map. The Black Man was looking up at the bird.

"He is stuck in the tree, sir," said Shiana.

The Black Man did not speak. He went over to the tree, and he bent down and put the thumb of his right hand on the ground at the foot of the tree. Then he drew the thumb along the ground round about the tree. Shiana saw a smoky vapour coming out of the ground in the part where the thumb touched it. A red ring remained on the grass at the foot of the tree after the thumb, just as it would if a red-hot iron had been drawn along it. The Black Man stood up when he had done that. Shiana looked up at the top of the tree. The bird was gone. Shiana was surprised that he had not heard it going. He heard no sound of wings, but the bird was gone.

Then they went in again. The Black Man went up to the malvogue and made a ring round it on the wall, and the same vapour came out of the wall, and the same trace remained afterwards upon it. While he was stooping Shiana looked sharply at the tail, as he had the opportunity. He saw, out at the very tip of it, a great long, crooked, thick claw, with a dangerous-looking point upon it, and it kept swaying from side to side continually, as a cat's tail does when he is watching for a mouse.

"By the deer, my lad," said Shiana, in his own mind, "if you get an itching, you will have no lack of nails!"

Just as if Shiana had spoken aloud, the Black Man raised his head and looked at him.

"Beware of that nail," said he, "for fear that it might take the itch off you and give you pain instead of the itch. Go up now and move the chair."

Shiana went up, and he was trembling very much. He put his hand gently on the chair, and when he did, it moved to his touch as easily as ever. He put his hand on the malvogue, and no sooner did he touch it than it moved back and forward along the wall. He looked at the Black Man.

"Oh, sir," he said, "I am very thankful to you! Oh, oh, oh! may God prosper you greatly, and His Blessed Mother!"