ountry-side
could have produced such an assemblage puzzled me beyond belief. And my
second emotion--if there was any division at all in the wave of wonder
that fairly drenched me--was feeling a sort of glory in the presence of
such an atmosphere of splendid and vital _youth_. Everything vibrated,
quivered, shook about me, and I almost felt myself as an aged and
decrepit man by comparison.

I know my heart gave a great fiery leap as I saw them, for the faces
that met me were fine, vigourous, and comely, while burning everywhere
through their ripe maturity shone the ardours of youth and a kind of
deathless enthusiasm. Old, yet eternally young they were, as rivers and
mountains count their years by thousands, yet remain ever youthful; and
the first effect of all those pairs of eyes lifted to meet my own was
to send a whirlwind of unknown thrills about my heart and make me catch
my breath with mingled terror and delight. A fear of death, and at the
same time a sensation of touching something vast and eternal that could
never die, surged through me.

A deep hush followed my entrance as all turned to look at me. They
stood, men and women, grouped about a table, and something about
them--not their size alone--conveyed the impression of being
_gigantic_, giving me strangely novel realisations of freedom, power,
and immense existence more or less than human.

I can only record my thoughts and impressions as they came to me and as
I dimly now remember them. I had expected to see old Tom Bassett
crouching half asleep over a peat fire, a dim lamp on the table beside
him, and instead this assembly of tall and splendid men and women stood
there to greet me, and stood in silence. It was little wonder that at
first the ready question died upon my lips, and I almost forgot the
words of my own language.

"I thought this was Tom Bassett's cottage!" I managed to ask at length,
and looked straight at the man nearest me across the table. He had wild
hair falling about his shoulders and a face of clear beauty. His eyes,
too, like all the rest, seemed shrouded by something veil-like that
reminded me of the shadowy man of whom I had first inquired the way.
They were _shaded_--and for some reason I was glad they were.

At the sound of my voice, unreal and thin, there was a general movement
throughout the room, as though everyone changed places, passing each
other like those shapes of fluid sort I had seen outside in the mist.
But no answer