'In spite of myself terror crept over me. Again I plunged my spurs
into my horse's sides, and it dashed madly off into the midst of the
forest.

'When at length the flight ended, the evening lay cool and quiet
around me. A white footpath seemed to point out the way which led back
to the city. But each time I tried to approach it a face peered at me
from between the trees. I turned to escape from this new phantom, but
in vain, for whichever way I turned there was the face still staring
at me.

'I grew angry and urged my horse in the direction of the shadowy face,
only however to find myself drenched by a stream of white foam.

'Thus I was driven away from the white footpath, and only one way,
rough and tangled, was left open to me. As soon as I began to follow
it, the face, though it kept close behind, did me no further harm.

'Yet again and again I turned, hoping to find that the face had
disappeared. Instead I found it closer than before, and now I could
see that it belonged to a tall white man. It was true that at times
the long white figure seemed to be but a wandering stream, but of this
I was never sure.

I was weary now and my horse was exhausted. It seemed useless to try
any longer to force my way past the white face, so I went on riding
quietly along the one path left open to me. The head of the tall man
then began to nod, as though to say that at length I was doing as he
wished.