The lass left her cane behind. Broken in two might I add. It would have been such a good laugh if that idiot had not shown up. Now do not be gettin' me wrong, mortal terror tis a wonderful thing, but the boy had ill intent toward the lass, and I did not want her to be truly harmed. O' course, I didn't mean for the boy to die either, but that is what comes about from parading 'round the woods with sharp spines attached everywhere. Not my fault the lad skewered himself. I only intended to guide the lass to the pit she nearly befell earlier. Now mind you that twas a good laugh too, but the girl impresses me. As I said, I only wanted the lad to be contained until later, after I had given him a good lesson in fear, and how to treat a young lass. Twas his own garment that kilt, him. That tis what they get anyway for making such a mockery of me.
I be dressed just as any respectable man, mind ye, but since I have the cape the mortals are of the thought they can dress me like a spined turkey. And the older ones don't even have the decency to believe in me. After all I do for 'em and they still think I'm farce. I oughta be showin' them a thing or two. In fact, I think I will. Who do they think makes the noises for 'em since their wee machines broke? Well, at least the littles believe in me. Now if they would only learn my name. Mortals, show them a load of science blarney and they don't believe in anything.
Still, the lass showed grit. Not everyday a mortal dares enter the woods were a dullahan dwells. 'Course, the mortals don't be believin' in him either, and he be the one they ought to fear. I chased the churl away enough for them, and I don't even be gettin' a thank you. What do they do? They mourn for the lives he took anyway. Hmph. I tell ye, I never be gettin' anything.
O' course, I wager the lass never knew her blindness would save her life. Thrice did the dullahan ride along side her, and thrice did he not extend his whip, nor did he stop. I think the girl be impressin' him too. Enough at any rate that he spared her mate. Had they any idea how close the churl came to claiming the lad's soul, they would already be wearin' the black.
I s'pose I could fix her cane for her. She earned it. She be the first I be showin' my favor to in a long bit o' time. I think it will be a luck-filled life for her, at least most o' the time. Got to have some fun here and there. Now that gives me the thought. I shall just be totterin' up her doorstep tonight, to leave her cane there. Perhaps I will leave a note. O' yes, twill be fun. I should write in it red, yes. Oh, for the look on the old bags' faces when the see. Yes, I should get a jolly laugh out o' this after all.
The lass twill never have a boring life, oho! Now which house is she in...
The far darrig is part of Irish folk lore, it shouldn't be too hard to look up. ;)