if I could render
assistance--if she wished to ride? No answer. I drove faster, the horse
blinking, and shying, and trembling the while, his ears laid back in
abject terror. Still the figure maintained its position close to my
horse's head. Then I thought that what I saw was no woman, but perchance
a man disguised for the purpose of robbing me, seeking an opportunity to
seize the bridle and stop the horse. Filled with this idea, I said,
"Good Bose! hi! look at it, boy!" but the dog only shivered as if in
fright. Then we came to a place where four cross-roads meet.

Determined to know the worst, I pulled up the horse. I fetched Bose,
unwilling, out by the ears. He was a good dog at anything from a rat to
a man, but he slunk away that night into the hedge, and lay there, his
head between his paws, whining and howling. I walked straight up to the
figure, still standing by the horse's head. As I walked, the figure
turned, and I saw _Harriet's face_ as plainly as I see you now--white
and calm--placid, as idealised and beautified by death. I must own that,
though not a nervous man, in that instant I felt sick and faint. Harriet
looked me full in the face with a long, eager, silent look. I knew then
it was her spirit, and felt a strange calm come over me, for I knew it
was nothing to harm me. When I could speak, I asked what troubled her.
She looked at me still, never changing that cold fixed stare. Then I
felt in my mind it was her children, and I said:

"Harriet! is it for your children you are troubled?"

No answer.

"Harriet," I continued, "if for these you are troubled, be assured they
shall never want while I have power to help them. Rest in peace!"

Still no answer.

I put up my hand to wipe from my forehead the cold perspiration which
had gathered there. When I took my hand away from shading my eyes, the
figure was gone. I was alone on the bleak snow-covered ground. The
breeze, that had been hushed before, breathed coolly and gratefully on
my face, and the cold stars glimmered and sparkled sharply in the far
blue heavens. My dog crept up to me and furtively licked my hand, as who
would say, "Good master, don't be angry. I have served you in all but
this."

I took the children and brought them up till they could help
themselves.

XXIX

CAPTAIN WHEATCROFT

From DALE OWEN'S "Footfalls"

In the month of September 1857 Captain German Wheatcroft, of the 6th
(Inniskilling) Dragoons, went out to India to