She was ascending a gentle slope before me, walking straight and steady as one that knew whither, when I became aware that she was increasing the distance between us. I summoned my strength, and it came in full tide. My veins filled with fresh life! My body seemed to become ethereal, and, following like an easy wind, I rapidly overtook her. Not once had she looked behind. Swiftly she moved, like a Greek goddess to rescue, but without haste. I was within three yards of her, when she turned sharply, yet with grace unbroken, and stood. Fatigue or heat she showed none. Her paleness was not a pallor, but a pure whiteness; her breathing was slow and deep. Her eyes seemed to fill the heavens, and give light to the world. It was nearly noon, but the sense was upon me as of a great night in which an invisible dew makes the stars look large. “Why do you follow me?” she asked, quietly but rather sternly, as if she had never before seen me. “I have lived so long,” I answered, “on the mere hope of your eyes, that I must want to see them again!” “You WILL not be spared!” she said coldly. “I command you to stop where you stand.” “Not until I see you in a place of safety will I leave you,” I replied. “Then take the consequences,” she said, and resumed her swift-gliding walk. But as she turned she cast on me a glance, and I stood as if run through with a spear. Her scorn had failed: she would kill me with her beauty! Despair restored my volition; the spell broke; I ran, and overtook her. “Have pity upon me!” I cried. She gave no heed. I followed her like a child whose mother pretends to abandon him. “I will be your slave!” I said, and laid my hand on her arm. She turned as if a serpent had bit her. I cowered before the blaze of her eyes, but could not avert my own. “Pity me,” I cried again. She resumed her walking. The whole day I followed her. The sun climbed the sky, seemed to pause on its summit, went down the other side. Not a moment did she pause, not a moment did I cease to follow. She never turned her head, never relaxed her pace. The sun went below, and the night came up. I kept close to her: if I lost sight of her for a moment, it would be for ever! All day long we had been walking over thick soft grass: abruptly she stopped, and threw herself upon it. There was yet light enough to show that she was utterly weary. I stood behind her, and gazed down on her for a moment. Did I love her? I knew she was not good! Did I hate her? I could not leave her! I knelt beside her. “Begone! Do not dare touch me,” she cried. Her arms lay on the grass by her sides as if paralyzed. Suddenly they closed about my neck, rigid as those of the torture-maiden. She drew down my face to hers, and her lips clung to my cheek. A sting of pain shot somewhere through me, and pulsed. I could not stir a hair’s breadth. Gradually the pain ceased. A slumberous weariness, a dreamy pleasure stole over me, and then I knew nothing.