"And what are your deductions of the case?"
"The same as everyone else's," Mr. Marsden whispered, "only, like everyone else, I dare not say."
"Had Mr. Dance any dogs?"
"Yes—two poodles, of which, much to Mr. Baldwin's annoyance (everyone noticed this), he used to make the most ridiculous fuss."
"Humph!" I observed. "That settles it! Ghosts! And to think I never believed in them before! Well, I am going to try."
"Try what?" Mr. Marsden said, a note of alarm in his voice.
"Try laying it. I have an idea I may succeed."
"I wish you luck, then. May I come with you?"
"Thanks, no!" I rejoined. "I would rather go there alone."
I said this in a well-lighted room, with the hum of a crowded thoroughfare in my ears. Twenty minutes later, when I had left all that behind, and was fast approaching the darkest part of an exceptionally dark road, I wished I had not. At the very spot, where I had previously seen the figures, I saw them now. They suddenly appeared by my side, and though I was going at a great rate—for the horse took fright—they kept easy pace with me. Twice I essayed to speak to them, but could not ejaculate a syllable through sheer horror, and it was only by nerving myself to the utmost, and forcing my eyes away from them, that I was able to stick to my seat and hold on to the reins. On and on we dashed, until trees, road, sky, universe were obliterated in one blinding whirlwind that got up my nostrils, choked my ears, and deadened me to everything, save the all-terrorizing, instinctive knowledge, that the figures by my side, were still there, stalking along as quietly and leisurely as if the horse had been going at a snail's pace.