that it would never visit me again; that I had outgrown it; that I might
almost bid defiance to it; and I had even begun to think of it without
horror, as we are in the habit of doing of horrors of which we conceive
we run no danger; and lo! when least thought of, it had seized me again.
Every moment I felt it gathering force, and making me more wholly its
own. What should I do?--resist, of course; and I did resist. I grasped,
I tore, and strove to fling it from me; but of what avail were my
efforts? I could only have got rid of it by getting rid of myself; it
was a part of myself, or rather it was all myself. I rushed among the
trees, and struck at them with my bare fists, and dashed my head against
them, but I felt no pain. How could I feel pain with that horror upon
me! and then I flung myself on the ground, gnawed the earth, and
swallowed it; and then I looked round; it was almost total darkness in
the dingle, and the darkness added to my horror. I could no longer stay
there; up I rose from the ground, and attempted to escape; at the bottom
of the winding path which led up the acclivity I fell over something
which was lying on the ground; the something moved, and gave a kind of
whine. It was my little horse, which had made that place its lair; my
little horse; my only companion and friend, in that now awful solitude. I
reached the mouth of the dingle; the sun was just sinking in the far
west, behind me; the fields were flooded with his last gleams. How
beautiful everything looked in the last gleams of the sun! I felt
relieved for a moment; I was no longer in the horrid dingle; in another
minute the sun was gone, and a big cloud occupied the place where he had
been; in a little time it was almost as dark as it had previously been in
the open part of the dingle. My horror increased; what was I to do?--it
was of no use fighting against the horror; that I saw; the more I fought
against it, the stronger it became. What should I do: say my prayers?
Ah! why not? So I knelt down under the hedge, and said, 'Our father';
but that was of no use; and now I could no longer repress cries; the
horror was too great to be borne. What should I do: run to the nearest
town or village, and request the assistance of my fellow-men? No! that I
was ashamed to do; notwithstanding the horror was upon me, I was ashamed
to do that. I knew they would consider me a maniac, if I went screaming
amongst them; and I did not wish to be