over the bare meadows, sending the dead leaves rustling over
the heath and moaning through the leafless oaks. What a sad day it
was, he thought, as he faced the biting wind: sad as was his life and
a fitting one for the deed on which he had determined! Long since he
had left the city and was on the country road. He ascended a steep
hill. From its highest point he looked back toward the city he was
leaving forever. Faint it lay in the distance, only a few of its white
spires shining out dimly from the purple haze.

What was that dark shadow? Far down the winding road he discerned an
object moving slowly up the hill. Closer he looked, and trembled. An
old woman with flowing black robes was laboriously climbing the hill.
Whirling, he placed his hand on his breast, firmly grasped something
there, and then strode onward. Soon he glanced over his shoulder. Yes,
there she came, hobbling over the crest, her bent form and long
crooked staff clearly silhouetted against the gray background. She
raised the long staff and pointed it at him.

Now it seemed the day was waning; deep shadows lay in the valleys, and
night already enveloped the forest. Through rents in the broken clouds
a few pale stars twinkled fitfully. Soon dark cloud curtains scurried
across these spaces shutting out the light.

He plunged into the forest. His footsteps made no sound on the soft
moss as he glided through wooded aisles and under giant trees. Once
well into the deep woods, he turned to look behind him. He saw a
shadow, blacker than the forest-gloom, stealthily slipping from tree
to tree. He looked no more. For hours he traveled on and on, never
stopping, never looking backward, never listening, intent only on
placing a great distance between him and his pursuer.

He came upon a swamp where his feet sank in the soft earth, and
through all the night, with tireless strength and fateful resolve, he
toiled into this dreamy waste of woods and waters, until at length a
huge black rock loomed up in his way. He ascended to its summit and
looked beyond.

It seemed now that he had reached his destination. Wood spirits and
phantoms of night would mourn over him, but they would keep his
secret. He peered across a shining lake, and tried to pierce the
gloom. No living thing moved before his vision. Silver rippling waves
shimmered under that starlit sky; tall weird pines waved gently in the
night breeze; slender cedars, resembling spectres, reared their heads
t