At Ballisodare an event happened that brought me back to the superstitions of my childhood.  I do not know when it was, for the events of this period have as little sequence as those of childhood.  I was staying with cousins at Avena house, a young man a few years older and a girl of my own age and perhaps her sister who was a good deal older.  My girl cousin had often told me of strange sights she had seen at Ballisodare or Rosses.  An old woman three or four feet in height and leaning on a stick had once come to the window and looked in at her, and sometimes she would meet people on the road who would say “how is so-and-so,” naming some member of her family, and she would know, though she could not explain how, that they were not people of this world.  Once she had lost her way in a familiar field, and when she found it again the silver mounting on a walking-stick belonging to her brother which she carried had vanished.  An old woman in the village said afterwards “you have good friends amongst them, and the silver was taken instead of you.”

Though it was all years ago, what I am going to tell now must be accurate, for no great while ago she wrote out her unprompted memory of it all and it was the same as mine.  She was sitting under an old-fashioned mirror reading and I was reading in another part of the room.  Suddenly I heard a sound as if somebody was throwing a shower of peas at the mirror.  I got her to go into the next room and rap with her knuckles on the other side of the wall to see if the sound could come from there, and while I was alone a great thump came close to my head upon the wainscot and on a different wall of the room.  Later in the day a servant heard a heavy footstep going through the empty house, and that night, when I and my two cousins went for a walk, she saw the ground under some trees all in a blaze of light.  I saw nothing, but presently we crossed the river and went along its edge where, they say, there was a village destroyed, I think in the wars of the 17th century, and near an old grave-yard.  Suddenly we all saw light moving over the river where there is a great rush of waters.  It was like a very brilliant torch.  A moment later the girl saw a man coming towards us who disappeared in the water.  I kept asking myself if I could be deceived.  Perhaps after all, though it seemed impossible, somebody was walking in the water with a torch.  But we could see a small light low down on Knock-na-rea seven miles off, and it began to move upward over the mountain slope.  I timed it on my watch and in five minutes it reached the summit, and I, who had often climbed the mountain, knew that no human footstep was so speedy.

From that on I wandered about raths and faery hills and questioned old women and old men and, when I was tired out or unhappy, began to long for some such end as True Thomas found.  I did not believe with my intellect that you could be carried away body and soul, but I believed with my emotions and the belief of the country people made that easy.  Once when I had crawled into the stone passage in some rath of the third Rosses, the pilot who had come with me called down the passage:  “are you all right, sir?”

And one night as I came near the village of Rosses on the road from Sligo, a fire blazed up on a green bank at my right side seven or eight feet above me, and another fire suddenly answered from Knock-na-rea.  I hurried on doubting, and yet hardly doubting in my heart that I saw again the fires that I had seen by the river at Ballisodare.  I began occasionally telling people that one should believe whatever had been believed in all countries and periods, and only reject any part of it after much evidence, instead of starting all over afresh and only believing what one could prove.  But I was always ready to deny or turn into a joke what was for all that my secret fanaticism.  When I had read Darwin and Huxley and believed as they did, I had wanted, because an established authority was upon my side, to argue with everybody.