"I carnt see nothing. Just you look, mate, your side." I looked back

too, but could see nothing, and said so. "It's strange," growled Ike.

"Go on, Bony." The horse started again, the baskets creaked, the wheels

ground the gravel, and the cart jolted and jerked in its own particular

springless way, and then all of a sudden: "I've been to Paris and I've been to Dover."

Ike looked sharply round at me, as if he half suspected me of

ventriloquism, and it seemed so comical that I began to laugh.

"Look here," he said in a hoarse whisper, "don't you laugh. There's

something wrong about this here."

He turned the other way, and holding tightly by the ladder looked out

behind, leaning a good way from the side of the cart.

"I can't see nothinct," he grumbled, as he drew back and bent forward to

pat the horse. "Seems rum."

"I've been to Paris and I've been to Dover." There was the song or

rather howl again, sounding curiously distant, and yet, odd as it may

seem, curiously near, and Ike leant towards me.

"I say," he whispered, "did you ever hear of anything being harnted?"

"Yes," I said, "I've heard of haunted houses."

"But you never heerd of a harnted market cart, did yer?"

"No," I said laughing; "never."

"That's right," he whispered.

"I've been to Paris and I've been to Dover."

I burst out laughing, though the next moment I felt a little queer, for

Ike laid his hand on my shoulder.

"Don't laugh, my lad," he whispered; "there's some'at queer 'bout this

here."

"Why, nonsense, Ike!" I said.

"Ah! you may say it's nonsense; but I don't like it."

"I've been to Paris and I've been to Dover."

This came very softly now, and it had such an effect on Ike that he

jumped down from the shaft into the road, and taking his whip from the

staple in which it was stuck, he let the cart pass him, and came round

the back to my side.

"Well?" I said; "is there a cart behind?"

"I can't hear one, and I can't see one," he whispered; "and I says it's

very queer. I don't like it, my lad, so there."

He let the cart pass him, went back behind it again, reached his own

seat, and climbed in under the ladder.

Bump, jolt, creak, on we went, and all at once Basket kicked a flint

stone, and there was a tiny flash of fire.

"I've been to Paris and I've been to Dover."

There it was again, so loud that Ike seized the reins, and by main force

tried to stop the horse, which resisted with all its might, and then

stopped short with the baskets giving a jerk that threatened to send

them over the front ladder, on to the horse's back.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024