y blessed it.
It looked like diamonds, rubies, emeralds; he could think of nothing
beautiful which it did not resemble. The trees upon the bank were giant
garden plants; he noted a definite order in their arrangement, inhaled the
fragrance of their blooms. A strange, roseate light shone through the
spaces among their trunks, and the wind made in their branches the music
of eolian harps. He had no wish to perfect his escape, he was content to
remain in that enchanting spot until retaken.

A whiz and rattle of grapeshot among the branches high above his head
roused him from his dream. The baffled cannoneer had fired him a random
farewell. He sprang to his feet, rushed up the sloping bank, and plunged
into the forest.

All that day he traveled, laying his course by the rounding sun. The
forest seemed interminable; nowhere did he discover a break in it, not
even a woodman's road. He had not known that he lived in so wild a region.
There was something uncanny in the revelation.

By nightfall he was fatigued, footsore, famishing. The thought of his wife
and children urged him on. At last he found a road which led him in what
he knew to be the right direction. It was as wide and straight as a city
street, yet it seemed untraveled. No fields bordered it, no dwelling
anywhere. Not so much as the barking of a dog suggested human habitation.
The black bodies of the trees formed a straight wall on both sides,
terminating on the horizon in a point, like a diagram in a lesson in
perspective. Overhead, as he looked up through this rift in the wood,
shone great golden stars, looking unfamiliar and grouped in strange
constellations. He was sure they were arranged in some order which had a
secret and malign significance. The wood was full of noises, among which
he distinctly heard whispers in an unknown tongue.

His neck was in pain, and lifting his hand to it, he found it horribly
swollen. He knew that it had a circle of black where the rope had bruised
it. His eyes felt congested; he could no longer close them. His tongue was
swollen with thirst; he relieved its fever by thrusting it forward from
between his teeth into the cool air. How softly the turf had carpeted the
untraveled avenue--he could no longer feel the roadway beneath his feet!

Doubtless, despite his suffering, he had fallen asleep while walking, for
now he sees another scene--perhaps he has merely recovered from a
delirium. He stands at the gate of his own home. All