A few days later the shepherd came to the house and confessed that he was a sorcerer and had persecuted M. Milanges. He had transported his double into the young man's chamber, as well as the phantasmal doubles of his black dogs.
The existence of the living phantom, thus being proved to M. d'Assier's satisfaction, he conceives that a posthumous phantom is merely the continuation, as it were, of the living double. A story of such an animal apparition was given to him by an educated and reliable farmer at St. Croix, Ariège.
"One of my comrades," said the farmer, "was returning home at a late hour of the night. At some distance from his house, which was situated on a lonely farm, he saw an ass browsing in an oat-field by the side of the road. Moved by a feeling of neighbourly interest, natural among farmers, he intended to take the unprofitable guest out of the field, and advanced to seize the ass and lead it to his own stable so that its owner might claim it. The animal allowed him to approach without difficulty and to lead it away without resistance. But at the very door of his stable the ass suddenly disappeared out of his grasp, like a shadow vanishing. In a fright at this uncanny incident, the farmer woke up his brother to tell him what had occurred, and in the morning they went to the oat-field, anxious to see whether much havoc had been done to the crops, but could find no trace of the oats having been touched or trampled upon."
The night was clear and there was no cloud in the sky. The young man, when closely questioned, asserted again and again that he had distinctly seen the ass vanish before his eyes at the door of the stable.
D'Assier's explanation is that the animal's spectre, originating on the same principle as the human spectre, exhibits posthumous manifestations analogous to those observed in the latter cases. The ass of St. Croix was met with at night because, like the posthumous phantom of a human being, he shuns daylight. "He is in an oat-field, pasturing according to the instinctive habit of his race, but in reality browses (as one would naturally infer) but the phantom of grass or grain. He follows his leader whilst they are upon the road, but refuses to enter the stable, which is for him a prison, and vanishes in order to escape it. Here we have the essential features of posthumous manifestations: and if the young man had inquired among his neighbours, he would have learned, in all probability, that some time previously a beast of burden had died and been buried on a neighbouring farm."[169]
A similar story was told by a Customs officer, and is equally authentic.
"One evening when I happened to be on guard, with one of my comrades," said the officer, "we perceived not far from the village where I lived, a mule which grazed before us and seemed as though laden. Supposing that he was carrying contraband goods, and that his master had fled on seeing us, we ran after the animal. The mule dashed into a meadow and after having made different bolts to escape us, he entered the village, and here we separated. Whilst my companion continued to follow him, I took a cross road so as to head him off. Seeing himself closely pressed, the animal quickened his pace, and several of the inhabitants were awakened by the noise of his hoofs clattering on the pavement. I got in front of him to the crossing, at the end of the street, through which he was fleeing, and at the moment when, seeing him close to me, I put out my hand to seize his halter, he disappeared like a shade, and I saw nothing but my comrade, who was as amazed as myself."
"Are you quite sure that he hadn't turned aside into another road?" asked d'Assier of the Customs officer who told him the story.
"That would have been quite impossible: the place where we were had no outlet, and the only way he could get away was by passing over my body: and, besides, the night was clear enough for us to see all his movements. Next morning the inhabitants of the village were cross-questioning each other about the racket they had heard in the night."
"Like the ass of St. Croix," continues d'Assier, "and like all posthumous phantoms, our mule shows himself at night. He is met in a pasture all absorbed in his favourite occupation, that is to say, browsing imaginary grass. As soon as he finds himself tracked by the Customs officers he takes flight, as though he were really carrying contraband goods in his panniers, and he vanishes when he sees himself about to be captured—all things which characterise the post-sepulchral Spectre."