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2, 1863.] tolerably well for a time. We had cleared London, and were proceeding quietly between hedgerows, when, to my infinite disgust, an awkward shot fired by some boys, who were out sparrow-shooting I suppose, not only frightened my horses, but rendered them almost mad, by peppering very sharply my two leaders, who had before shown signs of freshness and uneasiness. They were off in a moment at a furious gallop, with the blood streaming down their sides. Nothing that I or any man could have done, would restrain them. Frantically they dashed on. I fully retained my presence of mind, and guided them in a certain manner.

“After galloping for some distance, I saw a long rise before me, and thought I should succeed in stopping my impetuous steeds at the top if I could tire them a little bit. I began now to lash, and up the hill we flew at a pace if possible more furious than ever. I really believe that I should have been able to pull up ere long, had I not become frightened. To my horror, I heard sounds of a human voice issuing apparently from the hearse. I listened attentively, and most distinctly heard, amid the clatter of hoofs and rattle of wheels sounds of fear mingled with very emphatic unadulterated Saxon language, which I cannot and need not repeat, coming from inside the hearse behind me. I hardly know what I thought. The corpse was swearing horribly. And no wonder, too, in one sense of the word. I was paralysed with fear. Whether the reins dropped from my hands I cannot tell. Certainly I lost all power over them. I had urged the horses up the rise. I could not check them in time, they thundered down the corresponding descent the other side. We ran against a tree. A crash. I was hurled off my seat. The hearse was smashed. Its broken bits and the mad horses disappeared I know not where. I and the shattered coffin rolled down a steep bank. Whether I was in my senses or not I cannot tell, but in a ditch opposite to me there sat up a bloody corpse, with soiled and torn grave-clothes, speaking or trying to speak to me. There floated through my mind horrible thoughts of men buried alive, supposed to be dead. Evidently this was such a case. I had brought the supposed dead man to life. I had also done that which would cause his real death. My brain reeled. No doubt I showed all the signs of fear my friend Colonel Moreton has described; but little did I imagine that he was in the neighbourhood, looking on as an eye-witness. Coroner’s inquest—murder—homicide—gallows—disgrace flitted in a confused tangle through my mind. I picked myself up at once and tore off at my utmost speed, I cared not whither, across the country.

“After going four or five miles, as near as I can guess, I espied a small, solitary public-house by the road-side. I entered, drank something very strong, lay down in the bar and fell into an uneasy sleep. Towards evening I awoke. I had heard voices in my sleep. I asked the landlady who had been there.

‘Only two policemen,’ she said, ‘have looked in. They mostly come at night, and will be here again by-and-by.’

“That was enough for me. I was off again in a few moments. I reached my lodgings eventually, how or when I cannot tell. I recollect nothing more until I opened my eyes and found myself in bed, very weak, room darkened, doctor and nurse bending over me, temples peppered over with leech bites, persons speaking in a whisper, and a disinclination on my part to do anything but sleep. After waking again from my sleep, my mind I found was very confused; gradually, however, I recollected what had taken place. The nurse told me that I had had a brain fever, and at one time had been given up. I kept my own counsel, merely inventing a story to account for a severe fall I had had, which I said was the cause of the wild, haggard, feverish state in which I was told I had appeared at my lodgings. From that time to this I have neither said nor heard a word on the subject. I never understood the matter. I never comprehended clearly what had brought the dead man partly to life. I never could learn. I dared not inquire what had eventually become of him or his body. At last I could only imagine that the fever must have been on me before I started for my drive; that the sounds I heard from the inside of the hearse must have proceeded from men whom we flew by from time to time on the road; that my illness coming on had made me a little light-headed; that the roll in a ditch with a clattering, broken coffin, and summersaults innumerable down a bank with a dead body, had made me, in a moment of agonising terror, fancy that the corpse had spoken, and foolishly imagine that jaws stiff in death were trying to articulate. One thing puzzled me not a little. I sent to the undertakers and to the owner of the hearse an ample apology, begging that the man who ought to have driven might not be blamed, entreating that secrecy might as much as possible be observed, and I enclosed to both all the money I could spare, promising to send them, as soon as I could, the remainder of the sum which I fairly owed them, and requesting they would let me know how much they thought I ought to pay. I did not sign my name, but told them to direct ‘A. B., Post-office, Charing Cross, till called for.’

“By the next post I received letters from them, more truthful than complimentary. I was told that money could not make up for the loss and injury I had occasioned; that nothing could excuse my conduct; that they were not at all surprised at my concealing my real name, nor were they astonished that one who could do such things as I had done, should seem to care nothing about the feelings of the relations and friends of the dear departed one whose mangled remains and mutilated corpse I had, through my wicked folly, exposed to the gaze of public curiosity, &c. &c. They begged to return my money.

“Now all this was pleasant to me. I felt going mad again. I left London directly. My commission was soon procured. Ere very long I had departed from England, nor did I return to these shores till after I had seen much service in India, the Crimea, and China. I really believe that many an act I have performed—which has obtained for me my sobriquet—has been the consequence of a mad feeling within, engendered by that terrible roll with death, which made me perfectly reckless.