ancied that there might be some dangerous gulf or
precipice just at his feet, and that the faithful animal was unwilling
to plunge himself and his rider into immediate destruction. I
dismounted, and with the bridal at arm's length, carefully stepped
forward a few paces, but I could find no intimation of danger; the same
deep and level bed of sand seemed to continue onwards, without any
shelving or declivity whatever. Was the animal possessed? He still
refused to proceed, but the cause remained inscrutable. A sharp and
hasty snort, with a snuffing of the wind in the direction of the sea,
now pointed out the quarter towards which his attention was excited. His
terror seemed to increase, and with it my own. I knew not what to
anticipate. He evidently began to tremble, and again I listened. Fancy
plays strange freaks, or I could have imagined there was something
audible through the heavy booming of the sea--a more distinct, and as it
were, articulate sound--though manifestly at a considerable distance.
There was nothing unusual in this--perhaps the voice of the fisherman
hauling out his boat, or of some mariner heaving the anchor. But why
such terror betrayed by the irrational brute, and apparently proceeding
from this source? for it was manifest that some connection existed
between the impulses of the sound now undulating on the wind, and the
alarm of my steed. The cause of all this apprehension soon grew more
unequivocal--it was evidently approaching. From the sea there seemed to
come, at short intervals, a low and lengthened shout, like the voice of
one crying out for help or succour. Presently the sounds assumed a more
distinct and definite articulation. "Murder!--Murder!" were the only
words that were uttered, but in a tone and with an expression of agony I
shall never forget. It was not like anything akin to humanity, but an
unearthly, and, if I may so express it, a sepulchral shriek--like a
voice from the grave.

I crept closer to my steed: nature, recoiling from contact with the
approaching phantom, prompted me thus intuitively to cling to anything
that had life. I felt a temporary relief, even from the presence of the
terrified beast, though I could distinctly perceive him shuddering, yet
fixed to the spot. The voice now came on rapidly; it was but a few paces
distant. I felt as though I was the sport and prey of thoughts too
horrible for utterance. Alone, I had to cope with the Evil One;--or I
was already, perhaps