"It was not a dream."

It gave me a shock, and I began to feel afraid again.

"Not a dream?" I said, "how can you know about it, Joan?"

"Are you dreaming now?"

"I--I suppose not. I think I am not."

"Indeed you are not. I know you are not. And yow were not dreaming when
you cut the mark in the tree."

I felt myself turning cold with fright, for now I knew of a certainty
that I had not been dreaming, but had really been in the presence of a
dread something not of this world. Then I remembered that my sinful feet
were upon holy ground--the ground where that celestial shadow had rested.
I moved quickly away, smitten to the bones with fear. Joan followed, and
said:

"Do not be afraid; indeed there is no need. Come with me. We will sit by
the spring and I will tell you all my secret."

When she was ready to begin, I checked her and said:

"First tell me this. You could not see me in the wood; how did you know I
cut a mark in the tree?"

"Wait a little; I will soon come to that; then you will see."