Yet another case of haunting by the phantasms of a horse comes to me from a gentleman in Marseilles, who told it me thus:—­

“It was 9 p.m. when I left my friend Maitland’s hotel in Chateauborne, and, facing north, set out on my way to Liffre, where my headquarters had been for the past fortnight.  Liffre is in the hills, and the road which separated it from Chateauborne, wild and lonely enough in daylight and when the weather is fair, is almost untraversable in winter.  The night in question was Christmas Eve; the snow had fallen heavily during the day, and with the wind blowing in icy draughts from the north-east, there was every prospect of another downfall.  Maitland pressed me to stay in his hotel.  ‘It is sheer folly,’ he said, ’for you to attempt to get home in weather like this.  It is pitch dark, you are not familiar with the route, and if you don’t wander off the track and tumble over a precipice, you will walk into a snowdrift.  Be sensible—­sleep here!’

“Much, however, as I should have liked to follow his counsel, I did not feel justified in doing so, as I had a lot of correspondence to attend to, and I realized it was most necessary for me to get back to Liffre without any further delay.

“It was true the night was inky black; but, with the aid of a lamp, I hadn’t the slightest doubt I could find my way.  Maitland bartered for a candle lantern with his host, and armed with this, a flagon of brandy and water and a thick stick, I said good-bye to Chateauborne.

“A couple of hundred yards saw me beyond the outskirts of the town, wherein I was the sole pedestrian, and silence reigned supreme.  On and on I plodded, the feeble, yellow light of my lantern just preventing me—­but only just—­from wandering from the track.  The road, which for the first mile or so was tolerably level, gradually began to rise, and, as it did so, I noticed for the first time indistinct images of gigantic, naked trees that becoming more and more numerous, and closer and closer together, at length united their long and grotesquely shaped branches overhead, and I found myself in the depths of a vast forest.  The snow, which had up to the present held off, now recommenced to fall, and presently the wind, which had for some time been slowly acquiring strength, came howling through the trees with the utmost fury, the first blast swishing the lantern out of my hands and hurling me with considerable force into an undergrowth of thorns and brambles, out of which I extricated myself with no little difficulty.

“I was now in the sorriest of plights—­enveloped on all sides in Stygian darkness I was unable to discover my lantern, and was thus totally at the mercy of the ruthless elements.  There were only two courses before me—­either I must remain where I was and be frozen to death, or, making a guess at the route, I must push on ahead and run the risk of ending my life at the bottom of a ravine.  I chose the latter.  Groping about with my feet, until