s! when he lifted it, shivering and stunned, he saw the form he
longed to see on the other side of the Pond; but not, as he had longed
to see it, gazing at him with the love and glory of seven nights ago.
Now she stood on the turf, half turned from him, and the wave of her
hair blew to and fro like a cloud, now revealing her white side, now
concealing it. And he looked, but she would not look. So he knelt on
his side and she remained on hers, both motionless. And suddenly the
impulse to sneeze arose within him, and at that instant she began to
move--not towards him, as before, but away from him, downhill.

At that he could bear no more, and quelling the impulse with a mighty
effort, he got upon his feet crying, "Beloved, stay! Beloved, stay,
beloved!"

And he staggered round the Pound as quickly as his shaking knees would
let him; but quicker still she slid away, and when he came where she
had been the place was as empty as the sky in its moonless season. He
called and ran about and called again; but he got no answer, nor found
what he sought. All that night he spent in calling and running to and
fro. What he did on Sunday you may know, and I may know, but he did
not. On Sunday night he stayed beside the Pond, but whatever his hopes
were they received no fulfillment. On Monday night he was there again,
and on Tuesday, and on Wednesday; and between the mornings and the
nights he went from hill to hill, seeking her hiding-place who came to
bathe in the lake. There was not a hill within a day's march that did
not know him, from Duncton to Mount Harry. But on none of them he found
the Woman. How he lived is a puzzle. Perhaps upon wild raspberries.

After the sun had set on Chanctonbury on Saturday night, he came
exhausted to the Ring again, and stood on that high hill gazing
earthward. But there was no light above or below, and he said:

"I have lost all. For the earth is swallowed in blackness, and the
Woman has disappeared into space, and I myself have cast away my
spiritual initiation. I will sit by the Pond till midnight, and if the
bird sings then I will still hope, but if it does not I will dip my
head in the water and not lift it again."

So he went and lay down by the Pond in the darkness, and the hours wore
away. But as the time of the bird's song drew near he clasped his hands
and prayed. But the bird did not sing; and when he judged that midnight
was come, he got upon his knees and prepared to put his head un