nscious of a swift transition from hell to heaven as my gaze passed
from that embryonic visage to a countenance so refined, so majestic, so
divinely sensitive in its strength, that it was like turning from the
face of a devil to look upon the features of a goddess.

At the same instant I was aware that both beings--the creature and the
woman--were moving rapidly toward me.

A pain like a sharp sword dived deep down into me and twisted horribly
through my heart, for as I saw them coming I realized in one swift
moment of terrible intuition that they had their life in me, that they
were born of my own being, and were indeed _projections of myself_.
They were portions of my consciousness projected outwardly into
objectivity, and their degree of reality was just as great as that of
any other part of me.

With a dreadful swiftness they rushed toward me, and in a single second
had merged themselves into my own being; and I understood in some
marvellous manner beyond the possibility of doubt that they were
symbolic of my own soul: the dull animal part of me that had hitherto
acknowledged nothing beyond its cage of minute sensations, and the
higher part, almost out of reach, and in touch with the stars, that for
the first time had feebly awakened into life during my journey over the
hill.

V

I forget altogether how it was that I escaped, whether by the window or
the door. I only know I found myself a moment later making great speed
over the moor, followed by screaming birds and shouting winds, straight
on the track downhill toward the Manor House. Something must have
guided me, for I went with the instinct of an animal, having no
uncertainties as to turnings, and saw the welcome lights of windows
before I had covered another mile. And all the way I felt as though a
great sluice gate had been opened to let a flood of new perceptions
rush like a sea over my inner being, so that I was half ashamed and
half delighted, partly angry, yet partly happy.

Servants met me at the door, several of them, and I was aware at once
of an atmosphere of commotion in the house. I arrived breathless and
hatless, wet to the skin, my hands scratched and my boots caked with
mud.

"We made sure you were lost, sir," I heard the old butler say, and I
heard my own reply, faintly, like the voice of someone else:

"I thought so too."

A minute later I found myself in the study, with the old folk-lorist
standing opposite. In his hands he held t