ten longed to be smaller. And most of all upon
Sundays, when I had to make way up our little church, and the maidens
tittered at me.

The soft white mist came thicker around me, as the evening fell; and the
peat ricks here and there, and the furze-hucks of the summer-time, were
all out of shape in the twist of it. By-and-by, I began to doubt where
I was, or how come there, not having seen a gibbet lately; and then I
heard the draught of the wind up a hollow place with rocks to it; and
for the first time fear broke out (like cold sweat) upon me. And yet I
knew what a fool I was, to fear nothing but a sound! But when I stopped
to listen, there was no sound, more than a beating noise, and that was
all inside me. Therefore I went on again, making company of myself, and
keeping my gun quite ready.

Now when I came to an unknown place, where a stone was set up endwise,
with a faint red cross upon it, and a polish from some conflict, I
gathered my courage to stop and think, having sped on the way too hotly.
Against that stone I set my gun, trying my spirit to leave it so,
but keeping with half a hand for it; and then what to do next was the
wonder. As for finding Uncle Ben that was his own business, or at any
rate his executor's; first I had to find myself, and plentifully would
thank God to find myself at home again, for the sake of all our family.

The volumes of the mist came rolling at me (like great logs of wood,
pillowed out with sleepiness), and between them there was nothing more
than waiting for the next one. Then everything went out of sight, and
glad was I of the stone behind me, and view of mine own shoes. Then a
distant noise went by me, as of many horses galloping, and in my fright
I set my gun and said, "God send something to shoot at." Yet nothing
came, and my gun fell back, without my will to lower it.

But presently, while I was thinking "What a fool I am!" arose as if from
below my feet, so that the great stone trembled, that long, lamenting
lonesome sound, as of an evil spirit not knowing what to do with it. For
the moment I stood like a root, without either hand or foot to help me,
and the hair of my head began to crawl, lifting my hat, as a snail lifts
his house; and my heart like a shuttle went to and fro. But finding
no harm to come of it, neither visible form approaching, I wiped my
forehead, and hoped for the best, and resolved to run every step of the
way, till I drew our own latch behind me.

Y