ed off
without delay. As I was riding through the front gates to the house, I
heard a shot, and to my amazement the very man I was going to visit rode
past at a furious pace, riding a wretched-looking chestnut with one
white forefoot and a white star on its forehead. Arrived at the house
the butler said:

"'"He has gone, sir; they had to shoot the horse--you would hear the
shot--and at the same moment my master died."

"'He had had this horse sent on approval; whilst riding it, it backed
over a precipice, injuring Mr. L---- fatally, and on being taken to the
stables it was found necessary to shoot it.'--Alpha."

The next case I append (I published it in a weekly journal some years
ago) was related to me by a Captain Beauclerk.

_The White Horse of Eastover_

When I came down to breakfast one morning I found amongst several
letters awaiting me one from Colonel Onslow, the Commanding Officer of
my regiment when I first joined. He had always been rather partial to
me, and the friendship between us continued after his retirement. I
heard from him regularly at more or less prolonged intervals, and either
at Christmas or Easter invariably received an invitation to spend a few
days with him. On this occasion he was most anxious that I should
accept.

"Do come to us for Easter," he wrote. "I am sure this place will
interest you--it is haunted."

The cunning fellow! He knew I was very keen on Psychical Research work,
and would go almost anywhere on the bare chance of seeing a ghost.

At that time I was quite open-minded, I had arrived at no definite
conclusion as to the existence or non-existence of ghosts. But to tell
the truth, I doubted very much if the Colonel's word, in these
circumstances, could be relied upon. I had grave suspicions that this
"haunting" was but an invention for the purpose of getting me to
Eastover. However, as it was just possible that I might be
mistaken--that there really was a ghost, and as I had not seen Colonel
Onslow for a long time, and indulged in feelings of the warmest regard
both for him and his wife, I resolved to go.

Accordingly I set out early in the afternoon of the Good Friday. The
weather, which had been muggy in London, grew colder and colder the
further we advanced along the line, and by the time we reached Eastover
there was every prospect of a storm.

As I expected, a closed carriage had been sent to meet me; for the
Colonel, carrying conservatism--with more conservat