The night was very dark and there was a little shimmer on her right hand. It was the Turlagh Beg lake. There rose some bird, a curlew or a snipe, from the brink of the lake, letting out mournful cries. Nora was startled on hearing the bird's sudden noise, and the drumming of its wings.

Bhí an oíche an-dubh. Bhí gealadh beag ar thaoibh a láimhe deise. Lochán an Turlaigh Bhig a bhí ann. D'éirigh éan éigin, crothach nó naoscach, de bhruach an locha agus do lig scread bhrónach as. Do baineadh geit as Nóra nuair a chuala sí glór an éin chomh hobann sin agus siabhrán a sciathán.

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