to Helena itself, as far in that direction as the coach was going.  The driver made no reply, but with his hand motioned my uncle to get in.  The latter did not need a second bidding, and the moment he was seated, the vehicle started off.  It was a large, roomy conveyance, but had a stifling atmosphere about it that struck my uncle as most unpleasant; and although he could see no one, he intuitively felt he was not alone, and that more than one pair of eyes were watching him.

“The coach did not go as fast as my uncle expected, but moved with a curious gliding motion, and the wheels made no noise whatever.  This added to my uncle’s apprehensions, and he almost made up his mind to open the carriage door and jump out.  Something, however, which he could not account for restrained him, and he maintained his seat.  Outside, all was still profoundly dark.  The trees were scarcely distinguishable as deeper masses of shadow, and were recognizable only by the resinous odour, that, from time to time, sluggishly flowed in at the open window as the coach rolled on.

“At length they overtook some other vehicle, and for the first time for some hours my uncle heard the sound of solid wheels, which were as welcome to him as any joy bells.  Just as they were passing the conveyance—­a small wagonette drawn by a pair of horses, the latter took fright; there were loud shouts and a great stampede, and my uncle, who leaned out of the coach window, caught a glimpse of the vehicle dashing along ahead of them at a frightful speed.  The driver of the coach, apparently totally unconcerned, continued his journey at the same regular, mechanical pace.

“Presently my uncle heard the sound of rushing water, and knew they must be nearing the Usk, a tributary of the Battle, which was only five miles from his house.

“The forest now ceased, and they crossed the road over the bridge in a brilliant burst of moonlight.  About a mile or so further on the coach halted, and, to my uncle’s surprise, he found himself in front of a house he had no recollection of seeing before.  He got out, and to his horror saw that instead of riding in a coach he had been riding in a hearse, and that the horses had on their heads gigantic sable plumes.

“While he was standing gazing at the extraordinary equipage, the door of the house slowly opened, and two figures came out carrying a small coffin, which they placed inside the vehicle.  He then heard loud peals of mad, hilarious laughter, and coach and horses immediately vanished.  My uncle arrived home safely, but the shock of what he had experienced kept him in bed for some days.  He learned that a phantom coach similar to the one he had ridden in had been seen in the forest twenty years previously, and that it was supposed to be a prognostication of some great misfortune, which supposition, in my uncle’s case at least, proved true, as his wife died of apoplexy a few days after this adventure.”