not trust him.

The glory of his brow vanished; the light of his eye grew cold; and I
held my peace. The next morning we parted.

But the most dreadful thing of all was, that I now began to feel
something like satisfaction in the presence of the shadow. I began to
be rather vain of my attendant, saying to myself, "In a land like this,
with so many illusions everywhere, I need his aid to disenchant the
things around me. He does away with all appearances, and shows me things
in their true colour and form. And I am not one to be fooled with the
vanities of the common crowd. I will not see beauty where there is
none. I will dare to behold things as they are. And if I live in a waste
instead of a paradise, I will live knowing where I live." But of this
a certain exercise of his power which soon followed quite cured me,
turning my feelings towards him once more into loathing and distrust. It
was thus:

One bright noon, a little maiden joined me, coming through the wood in
a direction at right angles to my path. She came along singing and
dancing, happy as a child, though she seemed almost a woman. In her
hands--now in one, now in another--she carried a small globe, bright and
clear as the purest crystal. This seemed at once her plaything and her
greatest treasure. At one moment, you would have thought her utterly
careless of it, and at another, overwhelmed with anxiety for its safety.
But I believe she was taking care of it all the time, perhaps not least
when least occupied about it. She stopped by me with a smile, and bade
me good day with the sweetest voice. I felt a wonderful liking to the
child--for she produced on me more the impression of a child, though my
understanding told me differently. We talked a little, and then walked
on together in the direction I had been pursuing. I asked her about the
globe she carried, but getting no definite answer, I held out my hand
to take it. She drew back, and said, but smiling almost invitingly the
while, "You must not touch it;"--then, after a moment's pause--"Or if
you do, it must be very gently." I touched it with a finger. A slight
vibratory motion arose in it, accompanied, or perhaps manifested, by
a faint sweet sound. I touched it again, and the sound increased. I
touched it the third time: a tiny torrent of harmony rolled out of the
little globe. She would not let me touch it any more.

We travelled on together all that day. She left me when twilight came
on; but next da