And soon high hedges hid utterly the "World's End" behind us,
out of sight and sound.
I observed when the trees had laid their burdened branches overhead,
and the thick-flowered bushes begun to straiten our way, that this Mr.
Superstition who had desired to accompany us was of a very different
courage from that his manner at the inn seemed to profess.
He walked with almost as much caution and ungainliness as Mistrust,
his deep and shining eyes busily searching the gloom to left and right
of him. Indeed, those same dark eyes of his reminded me not a little
of Mrs. Nature's, they were so full of what they could not tell.
He was on foot; my new friend Reverie, like myself, led his horse, a
pale, lovely creature with delicate nostrils and deep-smouldering
eyes.
"You must think me very bold to force my company on you," said
Superstition awkwardly, turning to Reverie, "but my house is never so
mute with horror as in these moody summer nights when thunder is in
the air. See there!" he cried.
As if the distant sky had opened, the large, bright, harmless
lightning quivered and was gone, revealing on the opposing hills
forest above forest unutterably dark and still.
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