d the wood. Horse's hoofs just the same as before. The
same galloping, the same figure, the same EYES! the same mad,
panic-stricken flight home, and, early in the succeeding afternoon, a
similar cablegram--this time from Sicily. 'Dick died at midnight.
Dysentery.--Andrews.'

"Jack Andrews was Dick's pal--his bosom friend. So once again the
phantom rider had brought its grisly message--played its ghoulish role.
My brothers were both dead now, and only Beryl remained. Another year
sped by and the last night in October--a Monday--saw me, impelled by a
fascination I could not resist, once again in the wood. Up to a point
everything happened as before. As the monotonous church clock struck
twelve, from afar came the sound of hoofs. Nearer, nearer, nearer, and
then with startling abruptness the rider shot into view. And now, mixed
with the awful, indescribable terror the figure always conveyed with it,
came a feeling of intense rage and indignation. Should Beryl--Beryl whom
I loved next best to my wife--be torn from me even as Dick and Hal had
been? No! Ten thousand times no! Sooner than that I would risk anything.
A sudden inspiration, coming maybe from the whispering leaves, or from
the elm, or from the mysterious flickering moonbeams, flashed through
me. Could I not intercept the figures, drive them back? By doing so
something told me Beryl might be saved. A terrible struggle at once took
place within me, and it was only after the most desperate efforts that I
at length succeeded in fighting back my terror and flung myself out into
the middle of the drive. No words of mine can describe all I went
through as I stood there anticipating the arrival of the phantoms. At
length they came, right up to me; and as, with frantic resolution, I
screwed up courage to plant myself directly in their path, and stared up
into the rider's eyes, the huge steed halted, gave one shrill neigh, and
turning round, galloped back again, disappearing whither it had
emerged.

"Two days afterwards I received a letter from my brother-in-law.

"'I have been having an awful time,' he wrote. 'My darling Beryl has
been frightfully ill. On Monday night we gave up all hope of her
recovery, but at twelve o'clock, when the doctor bid us prepare for the
end, the most extraordinary thing happened. Turning over in bed, she
distinctly called out your name, and rallied. And now, thank God, she is
completely out of danger. The doctor says it is the most astonishin