However, hearing voices in the quadrangle, he pulled himself
together, approached the window on tiptoe, and, peering through the
glass, perceived to his utmost joy two of his friends directly beneath
him. 'I say, you fellows,' he called in low tones, 'come up here
quickly--Brady's rooms. I've seen the phantom dog. There's been another
tragedy, and the murderer is close at hand. Come quietly and we may
catch him!' "He then retraced his steps to the centre of the room and listened. Again there came the laugh--subtle, protracted, hellish--and it seemed
to him as if it must originate in the room overhead. "A noise in the direction of the hearth made him look round. Some loose
plaster had fallen, and whilst he still gazed, more fell. The truth of
the whole thing then dawned on him. The murderer was in the chimney. "Hartnoll was a creature of impulse. In the excitement of the moment he
forgot danger, and the dastardly nature of the crimes gave him more than
his usual amount of courage. He rushed at the chimney, and, regardless
of soot and darkness, began an impromptu ascent. "Half-way up something struck him--once, twice, thrice,--sharply, and
there was a soft, malevolent chuckle. "At this juncture the two undergraduates arrived in Brady's room. No one
was there--nothing save a hunched-up figure on a chair. "'Hartnoll!' they whispered. 'Hartnoll!' No reply. They called
again--still no reply. Again and again they called, until at length,
through sheer fatigue, they desisted, and seized with a sudden panic
fled precipitately downstairs and out into the quadrangle. "Once more the alarm was given, and once again the whole College, wild
with excitement, hastened to the scene of the outrage. "This time there was a double mystery. Brady had been murdered--Hartnoll
had disappeared. The police were summoned and the whole building
ransacked; but no one thought of the chimney till the search was nearly
over, and half the throng--overcome with fatigue--had retired. O'Farroll
was the discoverer. Happening to glance at the hearth he saw something
drop. "'For Heaven's sake, you fellows!' he shouted. 'Look! Blood! You may
take it from me there's a corpse in the chimney.' "A dozen candles invaded the hearth, and a herculean policeman undertook
the ascent. In breathless silence the crowd below waited, and, after a
few seconds of intense suspense, two helpless legs appeared on the hob. Bit by bit, the rest of the body followed, until, at length, the whole
figure of Hartnoll, black, bleeding, bloodstained, was disclosed to
view. "At first it was thought that he was dead; but the surgeon who had
hurried to the scene pronouncing him still alive, there arose a
tremendous cheer. The murderer had at all events been foiled this time. "'Begorrah!' cried O'Farroll, 'Hartnoll was after the murderer when he
was struck, and shure I'll be after him the same way myself.' And before
anyone could prevent him O'Farroll was up the chimney. Up, up, up, until
he found himself going down, down, down; and then--bedad--he stepped
right out on to the floor of Belton's room. "'Hulloa!' the latter exclaimed, looking not a bit disconcerted, 'that's
a curious mode of making your entrance into my domain! Why didn't you
come by the door?' "'Because,' O'Farroll replied, pointing to a patch of soot near the
washstand, 'I followed you. Own up, Dicky Belton. You're the
culprit--you did for them all.' And Belton laughed. *       *       *       *       *

"Yes, it was true; overwork had turned Belton's brain, and he was
subsequently sent to a Criminal Lunatic Asylum for the rest of his life. But there were moments when he was comparatively sane, and in these
interims he confessed everything. Anderson had told him that he was
going to hoax the Dean, and filled with indignation at the idea of such
a trick being played on a College official--for he, Belton, was a great
favourite with the 'Beaks'--he had accompanied Anderson on the plea of
helping him, intending, in reality, to frustrate him. It was not till he
was in the chimney, crouching behind Anderson, that the thought of
killing his fellow-students had entered his mind. The heat of his
hiding-place, acting on an already overworked brain, hastened on the
madness; and his fingers closing on a clasped knife in one of his
pockets, inspired him with a desire to kill. "The work once begun, he had argued with himself, would have to be
continued, and he had then and there decided that all unruly
undergraduates should be exterminated. "With what measure of success this determination was carried out need
not be recapitulated here; but with regard to the phantom dog a few
words may be added. Since it appeared immediately before the committal
of each of the three murders I have just recorded (it was seen by Mr.
Kelly before the death of Bob Anderson; by Brady, before the murder of
Maguire; and by Hartnoll, before Brady was murdered), I think there can
neither be doubts as to its existence nor as to the purport of its
visits. "Moreover, its latest appearance in the University, reported to me quite
recently, preceded a serious outbreak of fire." _National Ghosts in the form of Dogs_

One of the most notorious dog ghosts is the Gwyllgi in Wales. This
apparition, which is of a particularly terrifying appearance, chiefly
haunts the lane leading from Mousiad to Lisworney Crossways. Belief in a spectral dog, however, is common all over the British Isles. The apparition does not belong to any one breed, but appears equally
often as a hound, setter, terrier, shepherd dog, Newfoundland and
retriever. In Lancashire it is called the "Trash" or "Striker"; Trash,
because the sound of its tread is thought to resemble a person walking
along a miry, sloppy road, with heavy shoes; Striker, because it is said
to utter a curious screech which may be taken as a warning of the
approaching death of some relative or friend. When followed the phantom
retreats, glaring at its pursuer, and either sinks into the ground with
a harrowing shriek, or disappears in some equally mysterious manner. In Norfolk and Cambridgeshire this spectre is named the "Shuck," the
local name for Shag--and is reported to haunt churchyards and other
dreary spots. In the parish of Overstrand, there used to be a lane called "Shuck's
Lane," named after this phantasm. Round about Leeds the spectre dog is called "Padfoot," and is about the
size of a donkey, with shaggy hair and large eyes like saucers. My
friend Mr. Barker tells me there was, at one time, a ghost in the
Hebrides called the Lamper, which was like a very big, white dog with no
tail. It ran sometimes straight ahead, but usually in circles, and to
see it was a prognostication of death. Mr. Barker, going home by the
sea-coast, saw the Lamper in the hedge. He struck at it, and his stick
passed right through it. The Lamper rushed away, whining and howling
alternately, and disappeared. Mr. Barker was so scared that he ran all
the way home.