I related my adventure to the Colonel, and he told me that the cave was
generally deemed to be the most haunted spot in the grounds, that no one
cared to venture there alone after dark. "I have myself many times visited the cave at night--in the company of
others," he said, "and we have invariably experienced sensations of the
utmost horror and repulsion, though we have seen nothing. It must be a
devil." I thought so, too, and exclaimed with some vehemence that the proper
course for him to pursue was to have the cave filled in or blasted. That
night I awoke at about one o'clock with the feeling very strong on me
that something was prowling about under my window. For some time I
fought against the impulse to get out of bed and look, but at last I
yielded. It was bright moonlight--every obstacle in the grounds stood
out with wonderful clearness--and directly beneath the window, peering
up at me, were the eyes--red, lurid, satanical. A dog barked, and they
vanished. I did not sleep again that night, not until the daylight
broke, when I had barely shut my eyes before I was aroused by decidedly
material bangings on the doors and hyper-boisterous Easter greetings. After breakfast a few of the party went to church, a few into the
nursery to romp with the children, whilst the rest dispersed in
different directions. At luncheon all met again, and there was much
merry-making over the tansy cakes--very foolish, no doubt, but to me at
least very delightful, and perhaps a wise practice, at times, even for
the most prosaic. In the afternoon the Colonel took me for a drive to a
charmingly picturesque village in the Chilterns, whence we did not set
out on our way back till it was twilight. The Colonel was a good whip, and the horse, though young and rather
high-spirited, was, he said, very dependable on the whole, and had never
caused him any trouble. We spun along at a brisk trot--the last village
separating us from the Hall was past, and we were on a high eminence,
almost within sight of home, when a startling change in the atmosphere
suddenly became apparent--it turned icy cold. I made some sort of
comment to the Colonel, and as I did so the horse shied. "Hulloa!" I exclaimed. "Does she often do this?" "No, not often, only when we are on this road about this time," was the
grim rejoinder. "Keep your eyes open and sit tight." We were now amid scenery of the same desolate type that had so impressed
me the day of my arrival. Gaunt, barren hills, wild, uncultivated
levels, sombre valleys, inhabited only by grotesque enigmatical shadows
that came from Heaven knows where, and hemmed us in on all sides. A large quarry, half full of water and partly overgrown with brambles,
riveted my attention, and as I gazed fixedly at it I saw, or fancied I
saw, the shape of something large and white--vividly white--rise from
the bottom. The glimpse I caught of it was, however, only momentary, for we were
moving along at a great pace, and I had hardly seen the last of it
before the quarry was left behind and we were descending a long and
gradual declivity. There was but little wind, but the cold was
benumbing; neither of us spoke, and the silence was unbroken save by the
monotonous patter, patter of the horse's hoofs on the hard road. We were, I should say, about half-way down the hill, when away in our
rear, from the direction of the quarry, came a loud protracted neigh. I
at once looked round, and saw standing on the crest of the eminence we
had just quitted, and most vividly outlined against the enveloping
darkness, a gigantic horse, white and luminous. At that moment our own mare took fright; we were abruptly swung forward,
and, had I not--mindful of the Colonel's warning--been "sitting tight,"
I should undoubtedly have been thrown out. We dashed downhill at a
terrific rate, our mare mad with terror, and on peering over my shoulder
I saw, to my horror, the white steed tearing along not fifty yards
behind us. I was now able to get a vivid impression of the monstrous
beast. Although the night was dark, a strong, lurid glow, which seemed
to emanate from all over it, enabled me to see distinctly its broad,
muscular breast; its panting, steaming flanks; its long, graceful legs
with their hairy fetlocks and shoeless, shining hoofs; its powerful but
arched back; its lofty, colossal head with waving forelock and broad,
massive forehead; its snorting nostrils; its distended, foaming jaws;
its huge, glistening teeth; and its lips, wreathed in a savage grin. On
and on it raced, its strides prodigious, its mighty mane rising and
falling, and blowing all around it in unrestrained confusion. A slip--a single slip, and we should be entirely at its mercy. Our own horse was now out of control. A series of violent plunges, which
nearly succeeded in unseating me, had enabled her to get the check of
the bit between her teeth so as to render it utterly useless; and she
had then started off at a speed I can only liken to flying. Fortunately
we were now on a more or less level ground, and the road, every inch of
which our horse knew, was smooth and broad. I glanced at the Colonel convulsively clutching the reins; he was
clinging to his seat for dear life, his hat gone. I wanted to speak, but
I knew it was useless--the shrieking of the air as it roared past us
deadened all sounds. Once or twice I glanced over the side of the trap. The rapidity with which we were moving caused a hideous delusion--the
ground appeared to be gliding from beneath us; and I experienced the
sensation of resting on nothing. Despite our danger, however, from
natural causes--a danger which, I knew, could not have been more
acute--my fears were wholly of the superphysical. It was not the horror
of being dashed to pieces I dreaded--it was the horror of the phantom
horse--of its sinister, hostile appearance--of its unknown powers. What
would it do if it overtook us? With each successive breath I drew I
felt sure the fateful event--the long-anticipated crisis--had come. At last my expectations were realized. The teeth of the gigantic steed
closed down on me, its nostrils hissed resistance out of me--I swerved,
tottered, fell; and as I sank on the ground my senses left me. On coming to I found myself in a propped-up position on the floor of a
tiny room with someone pouring brandy down my throat. Happily, beyond a
severe shock, I had sustained no injury--a sufficiently miraculous
circumstance, as the trap had come to grief in failing to clear the
lodge gates, the horse had skinned its knees, and the Colonel had
fractured his shoulder. Of the phantom horse not a glimpse had been
seen. Even the Colonel, strange to relate, though he had managed to peep
round, had not seen it. He had heard and felt a Presence, that was all;
and after listening to my experience, he owned he was truly thankful he
was only clair-audient. "A gift like yours," he said, with more candour than kindness, "is a
curse, not a blessing.