The Ypres Times.
65
interior was exactly as depicted in my dream, and
there was the pile of loose bricks Yes, and oh,
heavens Some had been pulled out of the
loosened wall, and heaped up just as if some person
had been endeavouring to cover himself with
bricks. And there, too, was the peculiar red patch
on one of the casements
Tired with my day's labour, meeting several
people, I had forgotten all incidents which had so
puzzled me, until my henchman, bringing in my
tea, remarked, I remember my dream of last
night, sir 1 I knew I would."
Dream dream Oh, yes What did you
dream I asked without any wish to know
particularly. Of all things in the world, I
dreamt of a cat." A catI said, starting up,
but just checking myself in time.
I was born and bred on a farm, sir, and I've
never dreamt of cats before," he added, much to
my miser}-.
After he had gone from me I tried to console
myself with the thought that it was only a coinci
dence, or even to take it further perhaps it was the
usual case of thought transference.
I had been thinking with my mind concentrated
on the idea of a cat. It was merely the power of a
strong mind over a weak one.
By a super-tactfulness employed by those
conscious of a nether world, I came to know that
no cat had been seen in the neighbourhood of my
sandbagged fort during my day's absence. I was
now fully convinced that the cat had met its doom
in that shell-hole. It was now after six in the
evening when there was a general lull in the
hostilities on both sides. I do not know what
prompted me, except that I was restless in my
dug-out. I must gaze on that thin ribbon of a road
if only for a moment. What are these peculiar
forces which drive us onward against all reason
I turned to go with a passing glance at the
village made holy by the torment it had suffered.
Lo, in that passing glance I saw something
white emanate from the ruins, and leisurely work
its way down the thin ribbon of a road which
passed my dug-out. I stood transfixed. Slowly it
came towards me with the same unconcernthe
same uncanny walk
It was within fifty yards of me, and I mustered
strength to shout Sergeant urged by the
thought that another human should experience
this supernatural creature
No sooner had I shouted when the white thing
went to the right of the road, and passed behind a
tall tree whose top had been decapitated. I saw
it no more.
You called me, sir," said the sergeant. In the
peculiar mystery of the evening's glow I felt inclined
to embrace him. Something crude and practical
had come to me from a mundane world he would
teach me to master this elementary phenomenon.
You see that isolated tree, Sergeant, just
Keep down, sir, keep down, sir he suddenly
shouted, interrupting me. Had he, too, seen the
White Cat I asked myself.
Get up, you coward," I shoutedalmost
screamed, Get up
He made no reply except to pull me to the
ground by the ends of my coat. I fell tumbling
over a duckboard into mud and water.
Scarcely had I touched the ground before a
terrible explosion followed.
I scrambled to my feet to see that the isolated
tree had been blown to bits.
The tree the tree you mentioned, sir. How
did you know that the shell would drop there-
how did you know
The White Cat of Moulenstraat," I simply
replied, and he looked at me in blank amazement,
not knowing what I knew.
I came out from my dug-out next morning to
greet a day of ice and snow. I was reminded that
it was but three days to Christmas-for one knows
not the date or day of the week in the trenches-
one only knows that the sun is hot and the winter
cold.
Heavy clouds hung overhead, casting a daylight
darkness over the earth. It was late afternoon
when I was about to set out on a duty. I suddenly
espied the white creation on the thin ribbon of a
road, going leisurely towards the village. It
appeared to have "come from the spot where the
isolated tree had stood.
Heavens had this cat nine lives I asked.
I will solve this mystery here and now," I said,
resolutely, and sped after the creature. As I
hastened towards it, it got further from me, but
yet it did not seem to hasten its pace—it had still
the same uncanny unconcern about its walk.
At a sharp walk, I passed the old grindstone on
the side of the road, and I was almost running by
the time I reached the blacksmith's shop, now
looking like a relic of a prehistoric craftsmanship.
The cat by this time was opposite the ruined
estaminet, once, no doubt, prosperous under the
white aproned leadership of one Engel, as the sign
upon the roadway recorded. The white thing
passed carefully over it, turning to the left at the
cross roads. I ran to the corner, and was in time
to keep the thing in view though I was tripped up
by the railway which led to an ill-fated city
(Ypres). The iron warning post, Beware of the
Trains," seemed to gaze at me in grim irony. It is
extraordinary how one notes little things in passing
during critical times.
I tumbled and stumbled, it seemed, a hundred
times along the village street, but always keeping
the white thing in view. At the end building it
stopped, and looked about. Then it seemed to
see me coming. A second later it made towards
me. Within ten paces it stopped quite still, and
the expression in its black eyes seemed to say,
Go back Go back
I was compelled to halt, overcome by I know
not what. Then it turned round suddenly, ran
down the road, and disappeared into a building,
the last building in the street, the Brasserie.
I ran, fell over some broken rafters, and was
just scrambling to my feet when the whole world
seemed shaken by a terrible explosion, and I
remembered no more.
The End.
