oon his dark face seemed even darker; his long,
crisp, curly hair, his hat pressed down over his eyes, his black beard
and moustache, his strongly aquiline nose, all proclaimed his gypsy
origin. He wore a threadbare blue doublet, braided with cords, which
were buttoned here and there at random, and over this was fastened some
tattered lambskin covering.

The rider was really fast asleep: surely he must have travelled at such
a pace that he had no time, or thought for sleep, and now, strangely
enough, he felt at home.

Here, where no one could pursue him, he bowed his head upon his horse's
neck.

And the horse seemed to know that his master was sleeping, for he did
not shake himself once, even to rid himself of the crowds of biting,
sucking insects that preyed upon his skin, knowing that such a motion
would wake his master.

As the mare broke through a clump of marsh-willows, in the darkness of
the willow forest, little dancing fire-flies came before her in scores,
leaping from grass to grass, from tree to tree, dissolving one into the
other, then leaping apart and dancing alone; their flames assumed a
pale, lustreless brilliance in the darkness, like some fire of mystery
or the burning gases of some moldering corpses.

The mare merely snorted at the sight of these flickering midnight
flames; surely she had often met them, in journeys across the marsh, and
already knew their caprices: how they lurked about the living animals,
how they ran after her if she passed before them, how they fluttered
around, how they danced beside her continuously, how they leaped across
above her head, how they strove to lead her astray from the right path.

There they were darting around the heads of horse and horseman as if
they were burning night-moths; one lighted upon the horseman's hat, and
swayed with it, as he nodded his head.

The steed snorted and breathed hard upon those living lights. But the
snorting awakened the rider. He gazed askance at his brilliant
demon-companions, one of which was on the brim of his hat; he dug the
spurs into the mare's flanks, to make her leap more speedily from among
the jeering spirits of the night.

When they came to a turn in the track, the crowd of graveyard
mystery-lights parted in twain: most of them joined the rushing
air-current, while some careful guardians remained constantly about the
rider, now before, now behind him.

Darting from the willows, a cold breeze swept over the plain: be