Two of them are easily recognised, as Zeb Stump and Cassius Calhoun. The third still more easily: for far as eye can see, that fantastic form cannot be mistaken.
The first cry of the crowd, which but signalled the return of the two men, is followed by another, yet more significant—when it is seen that they are accompanied by a creature, so long the theme of weird thoughts, and strange conjecturings.
Though its nature is now known, and its cause understood still is it regarded with feelings akin to awe.
The shout is succeeded by an interregnum of silence—unbroken, till the three horsemen have come close up; and then only by a hum of whisperings, as if the thoughts of the spectators are too solemn to be spoken aloud.
Many go forward to meet the approaching cortège; and with wondering gaze accompany it back upon the ground.
The trio of equestrians comes to a halt outside the circle of spectators; which soon changes centre, closing excitedly around them.
Two of them dismount; the third remains seated in the saddle.
Calhoun, leading his horse to one side, becomes commingled with the crowd. In the presence of such a companion, he is no longer thought of. All eyes, as well as thoughts, dwell upon the Headless Horseman.
Zeb Stump, abandoning the old mare, takes hold of his bridle-rein, and conducts him under the tree—into the presence of the Court.
“Now, judge!” says he, speaking as one who has command of the situation, “an’ you twelve o’ the jury! hyur’s a witness as air likely to let a glimp o’ daylight into yur dulliberashuns. What say ye to examinin’ him?”