antagonist. His teeth were clenched and he was breathing hard. This
matter was soon set right, and as his muscles relaxed and he drew a
long breath he felt keenly enough the ludicrousness of the incident.
It affected him to laughter. Heavens! what sound was that? what
mindless devil was uttering an unholy glee in mockery of human
merriment? He sprang to his feet and looked about him, not
recognizing his own laugh.

He could no longer conceal from himself the horrible fact of his
cowardice; he was thoroughly frightened! He would have run from the
spot, but his legs refused their office; they gave way beneath him
and he sat again upon the log, violently trembling. His face was
wet, his whole body bathed in a chill perspiration. He could not
even cry out. Distinctly he heard behind him a stealthy tread, as of
some wild animal, and dared not look over his shoulder. Had the
soulless living joined forces with the soulless dead?--was it an
animal? Ah, if he could but be assured of that! But by no effort of
will could he now unfix his gaze from the face of the dead man.

I repeat that Lieutenant Byring was a brave and intelligent man. But
what would you have? Shall a man cope, single-handed, with so
monstrous an alliance as that of night and solitude and silence and
the dead,--while an incalculable host of his own ancestors shriek
into the ear of his spirit their coward counsel, sing their doleful
death-songs in his heart, and disarm his very blood of all its iron?
The odds are too great--courage was not made for so rough use as
that.

One sole conviction now had the man in possession: that the body had
moved. It lay nearer to the edge of its plot of light--there could