“‘Nonsense,’ I answered, ‘a boy ought never to be frightened——.’ I got so far when, to my horror, I saw, coming out of the dark wood, a tall white figure, which came walking slowly towards us. As it approached slowly, slowly, a cold shiver ran down my back, my eyes seemed starting from my head, and shrieking out, ‘The ghost, the ghost!’ I ran back towards the cottage. Pierrette—in consequence perhaps of what I had just said—stood his ground boldly; at least for the moment.
“For my part I thought of nothing but myself, and rushed screaming into the house. Pierrette’s father, Pierre, ran to the door, hearing my cries, and could himself see the terrible ghost at a distance. He at once took down an old gun from above the chimney-piece—one which, I believe, had figured in Napoleon’s campaigns—and hastily loading it with deer-shot, marched out in the direction of the phantom. Walking a few steps, he called out in a voice which he strove in vain to make firm,—
“‘Who goes there?’
“The ghost made no answer, but waved his arms about in the air.
“‘Who goes there?’ again cried Pierre. ‘If you do not answer, I shall fire.’
“Again the ghost only waved his long arms—arms which appeared to me to reach the sky. Pierre put the gun to his shoulder, he pulled the trigger, but it did not go off; it was old and out of order. Then a shout of diabolical laughter broke the quiet night, echoing all around. And I regret to say my nurse’s husband fled—positively fled; caught his foot against a stone, tumbled on his nose, picked himself up again, and ran into the cottage—though I must do him the justice to say that he caught me by the hand, and dragged me in along with him.
“Once safe inside, we both thought of Pierrette,—where was he? And I told how he had stood still when I ran away. Then a happy thought occurred to me: I called Tiger from his kennel; and as, on looking out, we could no longer see the ghost, we all—father, mother, I, and Tiger—went out to look about for the boy.
“After searching a little while in vain, we returned to the cottage, where, at the door, we found Tiger and Pierrette lying down together waiting for our return—the little boy having fallen asleep with his head comfortably resting on the dog’s body, just as you see them in the picture.
“The next evening, as soon as it began to grow dark, we watched for the ghost, and saw it appear again almost at the same hour in the same place. But this time the brave Tiger was let loose upon him at once.