"How do you know that she is a Dutch woman?" inquired I, anxious to
learn anything whatever that might throw a light upon the history
of this person, who seemed to have resolved to mix herself up in my
fortunes.
"Why, my lady," answered Martha, "the master often calls her the Dutch
hag, and other names you would not like to hear, and I am sure she
is neither English nor Irish; for, whenever they talk together, they
speak some queer foreign lingo, and fast enough, I'll be bound; but I
ought not to talk about her at all; it might be as much as my place is
worth to mention her--only you saw her first yourself, so there can be
no great harm in speaking of her now."
"How long has this lady been here?" continued I.
"She came early on the morning after your ladyship's arrival,"
answered she; "but do not ask me any more, for the master would think
nothing of turning me out of doors for daring to speak of her at all,
much less to _you_, my lady."
I did not like to press the poor woman further; for her reluctance to
speak on this topic was evident and strong. You will readily believe
that upon the very slight grounds which my information afforded,
contradicted as it was by the solemn oath of my husband, and derived
from what was, at best, a very questionable source, I could not
take any very decisive measure whatever; and as to the menace of the
strange woman who had thus unaccountably twice intruded herself into
my chamber, although, at the moment, it occasioned me some uneasiness,
it was not, even in my eyes, sufficiently formidable to induce my
departure from Cahergillagh.
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