The Amateur Gentleman

"Hush, sir!" said the Imp, staring away to where the stable

buildings loomed up before them, shadowy and indistinct in the dawn.

"Hush, sir!" he repeated, and Barnabas saw that he was creeping

forward on tip-toe, and, though scarce knowing why, he himself did

the same.

They found the great swing doors fast, bolted from within, and, in

this still dead hour, save for their own soft breathing, not a sound

reached them. Then Barnabas laughed suddenly, and clapped Master

Milo upon his small, rigid shoulder.

"There, Imp,--you see it's all right!" said he, and then paused, and

held his breath.

"Did ye hear anythink?" whispered the boy.

"A chain--rattled, I think."

"And 't was in The Terror's' stall,--there? didn't ye hear somethink

else, sir?"

"No!"

"I did,--it sounded like--" the boy's voice tailed off suddenly and,

upon the silence, a low whistle sounded; then a thud, as of some one

dropping from a height, quickly followed by another,--and thus two

figures darted away, impalpable as ghosts in the dawn, but the alley

was filled with the rush and patter of their flight. Instantly

Barnabas turned in pursuit, then stopped and stood utterly still,

his head turned, his eyes wide, glaring back towards the gloom of

the stables. For, in that moment, above the sudden harsh jangling of

chains from within, above the pattering footsteps of the fugitives

without, was an appalling sound rising high and ever higher--shrill,

unearthly, and full of horror and torment unspeakable. And now,

sudden as it had come, it was gone, but in its place was another

sound,--a sound dull and muffled, but continuous, and pierced, all

at once, by the loud, hideous whinnying of a horse. Then Barnabas

sprang back to the doors, beating upon them with his fists and

calling wildly for some one to open.

And, in a while, a key grated, a bolt shrieked; the doors swung back,

revealing Martin, half-dressed and with a lantern in his hand, while

three or four undergrooms hovered, pale-faced, in the shadows behind.

"My horse!" said Barnabas, and snatched the lantern.

"'The Terror'!" cried Milo, "this way, sir!"

Coming to a certain shadowy corner, Barnabas unfastened and threw

open the half-door; and there, rising from the gloom of the stall,

was a fiendish, black head with ears laid back, eyes rolling, and

teeth laid bare,--cruel teeth, whose gleaming white was hatefully

splotched,--strong teeth, in whose vicious grip something yet dangled.

"Why--what's he got there!" cried Martin suddenly, and then--

"Oh, my God! sir,--look yonder!" and, covering his eyes, he pointed

towards a corner of the stall where the light of the lantern fell.

And--twisted and contorted,--something lay there; something

hideously battered, and torn, and trampled; something that now lay

so very quiet and still, but which had left dark splashes and stains

on walls and flooring; something that yet clutched the knife which

was to have hamstrung and ended the career of Four-legs once and for

all; something that had once been a man.