The mail cart drove out of the town. Now nothing could be seen on either
side of the road but the fences of kitchen gardens and here and there
a solitary willow-tree; everything in front of them was shrouded in
darkness. Here in the open country the half-moon looked bigger and the
stars shone more brightly. Then came a scent of dampness; the postman
shrank further into his collar, the student felt an unpleasant chill
first creeping about his feet, then over the mail bags, over his hands
and his face. The horses moved more slowly; the bell was mute as though
it were frozen. There was the sound of the splash of water, and stars
reflected in the water danced under the horses' feet and round the
wheels.

But ten minutes later it became so dark that neither the stars nor the
moon could be seen. The mail cart had entered the forest. Prickly pine
branches were continually hitting the student on his cap and a spider's
web settled on his face. Wheels and hoofs knocked against huge roots,
and the mail cart swayed from side to side as though it were drunk.

"Keep to the road," said the postman angrily. "Why do you run up the
edge? My face is scratched all over by the twigs! Keep more to the
right!"

But at that point there was nearly an accident. The cart suddenly
bounded as though in the throes of a convulsion, began trembling, and,
with a creak, lurched heavily first to the right and then to the left,
and at a fearful pace dashed along the forest track. The horses had
taken fright at something and bolted.

"Wo! wo!" the driver cried in alarm. "Wo... you devils!"