ed, and Reor felt
under foot velvet like turf. Over the green carpet trembled flower
clusters, light as down, on bending stems, and between the long,
narrow leaves could he seen the half-opened blossoms of the red
gillyflower. It was only a little spot, and over it spread the
gnarled, red-brown branches of the lofty pines, with bunches of
close-growing needles. Through these the sun's rays could find many
paths to the ground, and there was suffocating heat.

In the midst of the little meadow a cliff rose perpendicularly out
of the ground. It lay in sharp sunshine, and the mossy stones were
plainly visible, and in the fresh fractures, where the winter's
frost had last loosened some mighty blocks, the long stalks of
ferns clung with their brown roots in the earth-filled cracks, and
on the inch-wide projections a grass-green moss lifted on needle-like
stems the little, grey caps, which concealed its spores.

The cliff seemed in all ways like every other cliff, but Reor
noticed instantly that he had come upon the gable-wall of a giant's
house, and he discovered under moss and lichen the great hinges on
which the mountain's granite door swung.

He now believed that the snake had crept in, in the grass to hide
there, until it could come in among the rocks unnoticed, and he
gave up all hope of catching it. He perceived now again the
honey-sweet fragrance of the longing flowers and noticed that here
under the cliff the heat was suffocating. It was also marvellously
quiet; not a bird moved, not a leaf played in the wind; it was as
if everything held its breath, waiting and listening in unspeakable
tension. It was as if he had come into a room where he was not
alone, although he saw no one. He thought that some one was
watching him, he felt as if he had been expected. He knew no alarm,
but was thrilled by a pleasant shiver, as if he were soon to see
something above-the-common beautiful.

In that moment he again became aware of the snake. It had not
hidden itself, it had instead crawled up on one of the blocks which
the frost had broken from the cliff. And just below the white snake
he saw the bright body of a girl, who lay asleep in the soft grass.
She lay without any other covering than a light, web-like veil,
just as if she had thrown herself down there after having taken
part the whole night in some elfin dance; but the long blades of
grass and the trembling flower-clusters stood high over the
sleeper, so that Reor could