It remained in this
attitude until I was within two or three feet of it--certainly not
more--when, to my unlimited amazement, it absolutely vanished--melted
away into thin air. "The iron gate leading to the area was closed, so that there was nowhere
for it to have hidden, and, besides, I was almost bending over it at the
time, as I wanted to read the name on its collar. There being no one
near at hand, I could not obtain a second opinion, and so came away
wondering whether what I had seen was actually a phantasm or a mere
hallucination. No. 90, I might add, judging by the brass plate on the
door, was inhabited by a doctor with an unpronounceable foreign name,"
etc. etc. I think one cannot help attaching a great deal of importance to what
this lady says, as her language is strictly moderate throughout, and
because she does not seem to have been biassed by any special views on
the subject of animal futurity. Correspondent No. 2 (who, by the way, is a total stranger to the writer
whose letter I have just quoted) is candidly devoted to dogs, regarding
them as in every way on a par with, if not actually superior to, most
human beings. Still, notwithstanding this partiality, and consequent
profusion of terms of endearment, which will doubtless prove somewhat
nauseating to many, her letter is, in my opinion, valuable, because it
not only refers to the phenomenon I have mentioned, but to a certain
extent furnishes a reason for its occurrence. The lady writes as
follows:--

"I once had a rough-haired dachshund, Robert, whom I loved devotedly. We
were living at the time near H---- Street, which always had a peculiar
attraction for dear Robert, who, I am now obliged to confess, had rather
too much liberty--more, indeed, than eventually proved good for him. The
servants complained that Robert ruled the house, and I believe what they
said was true, for my sister and I idolized him, giving him the very
best of everything and never having the heart to refuse him anything he
wanted. You will probably scarcely credit it, but I have sat up all
night nursing him when he had a cold and was otherwise indisposed. Can
you therefore imagine my feelings when my darling was absent one day
from dinner? Such a thing had never happened before, for, fond of
morning 'constitutionals' as poor Robert was, he was always the soul of
punctuality at meal times. "Neither my sister nor I would hear of eating anything. Whilst he was
missing, not a morsel did we touch, but slipping on our hats, and
bidding the servants do the same, we scoured the neighbourhood instead. The afternoon passed without any sign of Robert, and when bedtime came
(he always slept in our room) and still no signs of our pet, I thought
we should both have gone mad. Of course, we advertised, selecting the
most popular and, accordingly, the most likely papers, and we resorted
to other mediums, too, but, alas! it was hopeless. Our darling little
Robert was irrevocably, irredeemably lost. For days we were utterly
inconsolable, doing nothing but mope morning, noon, and night. I cannot
tell you how forlorn we felt, nor how long we should have remained in
that state but for an incident which, although revealing the terrible
manner of his death, gave us every reason to feel sure we were not
parted from him for all time, but would meet again in the great
hereafter. It happened in this wise: I was walking along W---- Street
one evening when, to my intense joy and surprise, I suddenly saw my
darling standing on the pavement a few feet ahead of me, regarding me
intently from out of his pathetic brown eyes. A sensation of extreme
coldness now stole over me, and I noticed with something akin to a shock
that, in spite of the hot, dry weather, Robert looked as if he had been
in the rain for hours. He wore the bright yellow collar I had bought him
shortly before his disappearance, so that had there been any doubt as to
his identity that would have removed it instantly. On my calling to him,
he turned quickly round and, with a slight gesture of the head as if
bidding me to follow, he glided forward. My natural impulse was to run
after him, pick him up and smother him with kisses; but try as hard as I
could, I could not diminish the distance between us, although he never
appeared to alter his pace. I was quite out of breath by the time we
reached H---- Street, where, to my surprise, he stopped at No. 90 and,
turning round again, gazed at me in the most beseeching manner. I can't
describe that look; suffice it to say that no human eyes could have been
more expressive, but of what beyond the most profound love and sorrow I
cannot, I dare not, attempt to state. I have pondered upon it through
the whole of a mid-summer night, but not even the severest of my mental
efforts have enabled me to solve it to my satisfaction. Could I but do
that, I feel I should have fathomed the greatest of all mysteries--the
mystery of life and death. "I do not know for how long we stood there looking at one another, it
may have been minutes or hours, or, again, but a few paltry seconds. He
took the initiative from me, for, as I leaped forward to raise him in my
arms, he glided through the stone steps into the area. "Convinced now that what I beheld was Robert's apparition, I determined
to see the strange affair through to the bitter end, and entering the
gate, I also went down into the area. The phantom had come to an abrupt
halt by the side of a low wooden box, and as I foolishly made an
abortive attempt to reach it with my hand, it vanished instantaneously. I searched the area thoroughly, and was assured that there was no
outlet, save by the steps I had just descended, and no hole, nor nook,
nor cranny where anything the size of Robert could be completely hidden
from sight. What did it all mean? Ah! I knew Robert had always had a
weakness for exploring areas, especially in H---- Street, and in the box
where his wraith disappeared I espied a piece of raw meat! "Now there are ways in which a piece of raw meat may lie without
arousing suspicion, but the position of this morsel strangely suggested
that it had been placed there carefully, and for assuredly no other
purpose than to entice stray animals. Resolving to interrogate the owner
of the house on the subject, I rapped at the front door, but was
informed by the manservant, obviously a German, that his master never
saw anyone without an appointment. I then did a very unwise thing--I
explained the purpose of my visit to this man, who not only denied any
knowledge of my dog, but declared the meat must have been thrown into
the area by some passer-by. "'No one in dis house trow away gut meat like dat,' he explained, 'we
eat all we can git here, we have nutting for de animals. Please go away
at once, or de master will be very angry. He stand no nonsense from
anyone.' "And as I had no alternative--for, after all, who would regard a ghost
in the light of evidence?--I had to obey. I found out, however, from a
medical friend that No.