when suddenly I heard, clear, though faint and far away, the sound as of
the iron-shod hoofs of a horse, in furious gallop along an uneven rocky
surface. It was more like a distant echo than an original sound. It
seemed to come from the face of the mountain, where no horse, I knew,
could go at that speed, even if its rider courted certain destruction.
There was a peculiarity, too, in the sound--a certain tinkle, or clank,
which I fancied myself able, by auricular analysis, to distinguish from
the body of the sound. Supposing the sound to be caused by the feet of a
horse, the peculiarity was just such as would result from one of the
shoes being loose. A terror--strange even to my experience--seized me,
and I hastened home. The sounds gradually died away as I descended the
hill. Could they have been an echo from some precipice of the mountain?
I knew of no road lying so that, if a horse were galloping upon it, the
sounds would be reflected from the mountain to me.

The next day, in one of my rambles, I found myself near the cottage of
my old foster-mother, who was distantly related to us, and was a trusted
servant in the family at the time I was born. On the death of my mother,
which took place almost immediately after my birth, she had taken the
entire charge of me, and had brought me up, though with difficulty; for
she used to tell me, I should never be either _folk_ or _fairy_. For
some years she had lived alone in a cottage, at the bottom of a deep
green circular hollow, upon which, in walking over a healthy table-land,
one came with a sudden surprise. I was her frequent visitor. She was a
tall, thin, aged woman, with eager eyes, and well-defined clear-cut
features. Her voice was harsh, but with an undertone of great
tenderness. She was scrupulously careful in her attire, which was rather
above her station. Altogether, she had much the bearing of a
gentle-woman. Her devotion to me was quite motherly. Never having had
any family of her own, although she had been the wife of one of my