“Then suddenly I felt my hair raise the ‘cabbage-tree’ upon my head, and my skin broke into a cold sweat, for there I could see a curious something lying upon the mound, a something that had not been there last evening. Every moment the light grew stronger, and I sat in a helpless state of terror as I became aware of the figure of a man sitting on the grave, with awful, sorrowful face turned towards me, and bright, unearthly eyes looking into mine.
“The apparition was that of a man below the average height, and was apparently wrapped round, as far as I could make out, in a grey, soft, filmy kind of cloak. It was the rotten remains of the blanket in which he had been buried. He moved not, but sat in awful silence gazing into my very soul.
“My horse trembled violently, but remained rooted to the spot. Then the figure rose slowly, and with eyes still fixed on mine began creeping, or rather gliding, noiselessly towards me.
“Oh, horror! I tried to shout; I could not. My tongue was dry and useless. The awful figure came slowly, slowly on. It was crouching now as if to spring upon me. Oh, heavens! Would nothing save me from that fearful, ghastly face, those awful eyes, that came nearer, nearer mine?
“There I sat in a kind of trance, watching the thing as it silently approached.
“Then suddenly an awful cry of agony burst forth close by my side; and from the air above, and from the dark wood behind, moans, groans, and hysterical bursts of laughter, shrill and blood-curdling, came in thick and bewildering succession.
“I nearly fainted. And, as the figure came on, and reached a spot where the early morning light fell upon it, I saw that it was a little, harmless animal of the sloth species, called a bear by Australian settlers. Others of its kind were barking and groaning their curious morning cries all round me upon the branches.”
“The Squire” having terminated his story, Claude expressed his appreciation of its merits, and then the two men cantered their horses the remainder of the way to the station.
Here, after bidding his companion “Good-night,” young Angland discovers that it is long past eleven o’clock; and a black boy, who runs out to take his horse, informs him that the young ladies have retired to rest, also that Mr. Giles has not yet returned home.
So, after partaking of some supper which lies waiting his appearance upon the dining-room table, Angland goes out on to the verandah, feeling somehow more inclined for a thoughtful half-hour with a Manilla, beneath the stars, than to go to bed at once.