After everyone left Mrs. B's teaparty, I noticed that the horse had wandered off. I figured that the children had been playing again. Helen agreed to come with me to look for it. We thought that if the children were involved, they might have ridden it home to the cemetary, so off we went.

Helen feels so for the little ones, so she brought along a basket with some of the candied appricots to leave on their graves. Sure enough, there whe was, nibbleing the rich grass just inside the gate. Helen went in to leave the treats for the bairns, and I saw to the horse.

I heard Helen scream, so I dashed inside the graveyard. I saw something white, and a gout of greenish flame, then the white thing, shaped much like a man with a cape, leapt up and over the cemetary wall and made off into the woods. Helen had fallen into a swoon. As much as I would have liked to give chase, I could not leave Helen defenseless in that place!

I put Helen on the back of the horse, which had gone skittish, and I noticed a queer smell, like vitrol mixed with saltpeter. I led the horse back to the house where Mrs. B. took over seeing to poor Helen. When I asked about her assailent, all I could get out of her was 'Oh it was awful! his terrible eyes!' and then she would breakdown into sobbing. Poor Helen just does not have a properly analytical mind for keen observation.