"Well, the Black Officer got better again, and went about among his
friends; and once he was driving home from a dinner-party, and Shamus was
with him. It was just the last night of the hundred. And on the road
they met a man, and Shamus knew him--for it was him they had seen by the
fire on the march, as I told you at the beginning. The Black Officer got
down from his carriage and joined the man, and they walked a bit apart;
but Shamus--he was so curious--whatever happened he must see them. And
he came within hearing just as they were parting, and he heard the
stranger say, 'This is the night.'

"'No,' said the Black Officer, 'this night next year.'

"So he came back, and they drove home. A year went by, and the Black
Officer was seeking through the country for the twelve best men he could
find to accompany him to some deer-hunt or the like. And he asked
Shamus, but he pretended he was ill--Oh, he was very unwell!--and he
could not go, but stayed in bed at home. So the Black Officer chose
another man, and he and the twelve set out--the thirteen of them. But
they were never seen again."

"Never seen again? Were they lost in the snow?"

"It did come on a heavy fall, sir."

"But their bodies were found?"

"No, sir--though they searched high and low; they are not found, indeed,
till this day. It was thought the Black Officer had sold himself and
twelve other men, sir."