wo hours ago Ajax was lying
here in the courtyard; suddenly he sprang to his feet with a savage
growl. His hair stood straight upon his back, his tail was stiff, and
his lips were drawn back, showing his great teeth. I turned to see what
had enraged him, but there was absolutely nothing, sir,--nothing in the
world. And never did I see Ajax so angry. But this lasted only for an
instant. Ajax suddenly backed, his tail dropped between his legs, his
head hung down, and with a dreadful howl he turned, and, leaping the
wall of the courtyard, he disappeared. I have since been watching for
his return. The gate is open, and as soon as he enters I shall chain
him, for I fear the dog is mad.'

"I did not dare to utter the thoughts that were in my mind, but, bidding
the man inform me the moment Ajax returned, I reentered the castle and
sat down in the great hall.

"The dog was beside me; his head again lay upon my knees. With a feeling
of awe, yet strangely enough without fear, I carefully passed my hand
over the animal's head. I felt his ears, his nose, his jaws, and his
neck. They were not the head, the ears, the nose, the jaws, or the neck
of Ajax!

"I had heard of animals, and even human beings, who were totally
invisible, but who still retained their form, their palpability, and all
the powers and functions of life. I had heard of houses haunted by
invisible animals; I had read De Kay's story of the maiden Manmat'ha,
whose coming her lover perceived by the parting of the tall grain in the
field of ripe wheat through which she passed, but whose form, although
it might be folded in his arms, was yet as invisible to his sight as the
summer air. I did not doubt for a moment that the animal that had come
to me was one of those strange beings. I lifted his head; it was heavy.
I took hold of a paw which he readily gave me; he had every attribute of
a real dog, except that he could not be seen."

"I call that perfectly horrible," said Aunt Martha with a sort of a
gasp.

"Perhaps," said the young man, "you would prefer that I should not
continue."

At this both my wife and Aunt Martha declared that he must go on, and
even I did not object to hearing the rest of the story.

"Well," said the young man, "Ajax never came back. It is generally
believed that dogs can see things which are invisible to us, and I am
afraid that my faithful hound was frightened, perhaps to death, when he
found that the animal whose entrance into the cou