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Billy removed the coat he was wearing and passed it over to his mother. She turned it inside out, and inspected it closely. Erie was waving to him from the kitchen door. "Where's Maurice?" she called. "Look ye," he cried, holding it aloft. "The fairies' magic arrer, ut is, an' ut niver fails t' fall on the spot where the treasure lies hidden. Foind Scroggie's buried money ut would have long ago if ut wasn't fer the ould man's spirrut that roams the grove. As I told ye afore, ut's no charm ag'in the spirruts av the departed, as yon grave-yard rabbit's fut is.".

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Billy's gaze followed hers. High above the trees a black speck came speeding toward them, a speck which grew quickly into a bird, a big, black bird, who knew, apparently, just where he was going. All sail was immediately made on the schooner. And with a fine dancing motion thrown into her by the swell, her coppered sides slipped nimbly through the water, graced by the frolic of foam sheared out of the feathering ripples by the sharp stem. Maurice gave the tired horse a feed of oats, tossed a bundle of timothy into the manger, slapped the bay flank once again and went up the path to his breakfast. She made no sign. He repeated her name as though startled by her immobility in which an element of tragedy might have been found in the singular, unwinking fixity of her stare upon her hands. He stepped to her side, and peered closely into her face and listened to hear if she breathed. Oh yes: she breathed, she was alive. But though he put his face so close to her's that she might have felt his breath upon her cheek, her form did not move by so much as might indicate the passage of a thrill, her eyes remained as steadfast in their gaze as though they were painted..