LITMIR.BIZ

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      "'Je ne sais pas mon, Colonel,' he answered, smiling too.

      "On the same evening at mess, I heard one of the subalterns say to the officer who sat next him, 'It's a fact, I assure you, and they call him Mungo.'

      "'That's a new name they've got for Schnapps, isn't it?' I said.

      "'No, sir; it's the name of a dog,' replied the young man, laughing.

      "'A black Newfoundland, with a large white streak on his flank?'

      "'Yes, sir, I believe that is the description,' replied he, tittering still.

      "'I have seen that dog two or three times,' said I. 'I saw him this evening—who does he belong to?'

      "'Well, sir, that is a difficult question,' answered the lad; and I heard his companion say, 'To Old Nick, I should think.'

      "'Do you mean to say you've really seen Mungo?' said somebody at the table.

      "'If Mungo is a large Newfoundland—black, with a white streak on its side—I saw him just now. Who does he belong to?'

      "By this time, the whole mess table was in a titter, with the exception of one old captain, a man who had been years in the regiment. He was of very humble extraction, and had risen by merit to his present position.

      "'I believe Captain T. is better acquainted with Mungo than anybody present,' answered Major R., with a sneer. 'Perhaps he can tell you who he belongs to.'

      "The laughter increased, and I saw there was some joke, but not understanding what it meant, I said to Captain G., 'Does the dog belong to Jokel Falck?'

      "'No, sir,' he replied, 'the dog belongs to nobody now. He once belonged to an officer called Joseph Atveld.'

      "'Belonging to this regiment?'

      "'Yes, sir.'

      "'He is dead, I suppose?'

      "'Yes, sir, he is.'

      "'And the dog has attached himself to the regiment?'

      "'Yes, sir.'

      "During this conversation, the suppressed laughter continued, and every eye was fixed on Captain T., who answered me shortly, but with the utmost gravity.

      "'In fact,' said the major, contemptuously, 'according to Captain T., Mungo is the ghost of a deceased dog.'

      "This announcement was received with shouts of laughter, in which I confess I joined, whilst Captain T. still retained an unmoved gravity.

      "'It is easier to laugh at such a thing than to believe it, sir,' said he. 'I believe it, because I know it.'

      "I smiled, and turned the conversation.

      "If anybody at the table except Captain T. had made such an assertion as this, I should have ridiculed them without mercy; but he was an old man, and from the circumstances I have mentioned regarding his origin, we were careful not to offend him; so no more was said about Mungo, and in the hurry of events that followed. I never thought of it again. We marched on to Brussels the next day; and after that, had enough to do till we went to Antwerp, where we were besieged by the French the following year.

      "During the siege, I sometimes heard the name of Mungo again; and, one night, when I was visiting the guards and sentries as grand rounds, I caught a glimpse of him, and I felt sure that the man he was approaching when I observed him, had been asleep; but he was screened by an angle of the bastion, and by the time I turned the corner, he was moving about.

      "This brought to my mind all I had heard about the dog; and as the circumstance was curious, in any point of view, I mentioned what I had seen to Captain T. the next day, saying, 'I saw your friend Mungo, last night.'

      "'Did you, sir?' said he. 'It's a strange thing! No doubt, the man was asleep!'

      "'But do you seriously mean to say, that you believe this to be a visionary dog, and not a dog of flesh and blood?'

      "'I do, sir; I have been quizzed enough about it; and, once or twice, have nearly got into a quarrel, because people will persist in laughing at what they know nothing about; but as sure as that is a sword you hold in your hand, so sure is that dog a spectre, or ghost—if such a word is applicable to a fourfooted beast!'

      "'But, it's impossible!' I said. 'What reason have you for such an extraordinary belief?'

      "'Why, you know, sir, man-and-boy, I have been in the regiment all my life. I was born in it. My father was pay-serjeant of No. 3 company, when he died; and I have seen Mungo myself, perhaps twenty times, and known, positively, of others seeing him twice as many more.'

      "'Very possibly; but that is no proof, that it is not some dog that has attached himself to the regiment.'

      "'But I have seen and heard of the dog for fifty years, sir; and my father before me, had seen and heard of him as long!'

      "'Well, certainly, that is extraordinary,—if you are sure of it, and that it's the same dog!'

      "'It's a remarkable dog, sir. You won't see another like it with that large white streak on his flank. He won't let one of our sentries be found asleep, if he can help; unless, indeed, the fellow is drunk. He seems to have less care of drunkards, but Mungo has saved many a man from punishment. I was once, not a little indebted to him myself. My sister was married out of the regiment, and we had had a bit of a festivity, and drank rather too freely at the wedding, so that when I mounted guard that night—I wasn't to say, drunk, but my head was a little gone, or so; and I should have been caught nodding; but Mungo, knowing, I suppose, that I was not an habitual drunkard, woke me just in time.'

      "'How did he wake you?' I asked.

      "'I was roused by a short, sharp bark, that sounded close to my ears. I started up, and had just time to catch a glimpse of Mungo before he vanished!'

      "'Is that the way he always wakes the men?'

      "'So they say; and, as they wake, he disappears.'

      "I recollected now, that on each occasion when I had observed the dog, I had, somehow, lost sight of him in an instant; and, my curiosity being awakened, I asked Captain T., if ours were the only men he took charge of, or, whether he showed the same attention to those of other regiments?

      "'Only the 20th, sir; the tradition is, that after the battle of Fontenoy, a large black mastiff was found lying beside a dead officer. Although he had a dreadful wound from a sabre cut on his flank, and was much exhausted from loss of blood, he would not leave the body; and even after we buried it, he could not be enticed from the spot. The men, interested by the fidelity and attachment of the animal, bound up his wounds, and fed and tended him; and he became the dog of the regiment. It is said, that they had taught him to go his rounds before the guards and sentries were visited, and to wake any men that slept. How this may be, I cannot say; but he remained with the regiment till his death, and was buried with all the respect they could show him. Since that, he has shown his gratitude in the way I tell you, and of which you have seen some instances.'

      "'I suppose the white streak is the mark of the sabre cut. I wonder you never fired at him.'

      "'God forbid sir, I should do such a thing,' said Captain T., looking sharp round at me. 'It's said that a man did so once, and that he never had any luck afterwards; that may be a superstition, but I confess I wouldn't take a good deal to do it.'

      "'If, as you believe, it's a spectre, it could not be hurt, you know; I imagine ghostly dogs are impervious to bullets.'

      "'No doubt, sir; but I shouldn't like to try the experiment. Besides, it would be useless, as I am convinced already.'

      "I pondered a good deal upon this conversation with the old captain. I had never for a moment entertained the idea that such a thing was possible. I should have as much expected to meet the minotaur or a flying dragon as a ghost of any sort, especially the ghost of a dog; but the evidence here was certainly startling. I had never observed anything like weakness and credulity about T.; moreover, he was a man of known courage, and very much respected in the regiment. In short,

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