narrowly escaped dashing myself against a tree, in my headlong flight of
fear.

Great drops of rain began to patter on the leaves. Thunder began to
mutter, then growl in the distance. I ran on. The rain fell heavier. At
length the thick leaves could hold it up no longer; and, like a second
firmament, they poured their torrents on the earth. I was soon drenched,
but that was nothing. I came to a small swollen stream that rushed
through the woods. I had a vague hope that if I crossed this stream, I
should be in safety from my pursuer; but I soon found that my hope was
as false as it was vague. I dashed across the stream, ascended a rising
ground, and reached a more open space, where stood only great trees.
Through them I directed my way, holding eastward as nearly as I could
guess, but not at all certain that I was not moving in an opposite
direction. My mind was just reviving a little from its extreme terror,
when, suddenly, a flash of lightning, or rather a cataract of successive
flashes, behind me, seemed to throw on the ground in front of me, but
far more faintly than before, from the extent of the source of the
light, the shadow of the same horrible hand. I sprang forward, stung
to yet wilder speed; but had not run many steps before my foot slipped,
and, vainly attempting to recover myself, I fell at the foot of one
of the large trees. Half-stunned, I yet raised myself, and almost
involuntarily looked back. All I saw was the hand within three feet
of my face. But, at the same moment, I felt two large soft arms thrown
round me from behind; and a voice like a woman's said: "Do not fear the
goblin; he dares not hurt you now." With that, the hand was suddenly
withdrawn as from a fire, and disappeared in the darkness and the rain.
Overcome with the mingling of terror and joy, I lay for some time almost
insensible. The first thing I remember is the sound of a voice above me,
full and low, and strangely reminding me of the sound of a gentle wind
amidst the leaves of a great tree. It murmured over and over again:
"I may love him, I may love him; for he is a man, and I am only a
beech-tree." I found I was seated on the ground, leaning against a human
form, and supported still by the arms around me, which I knew to be
those of a woman who must be rather above the human size, and largely
proportioned. I turned my head, but without moving otherwise, for I
feared lest the arms should untwine themselves; and clear, somewhat
mourn