There were moments when a straying sun-ray would break through the clouds, casting a sudden light upon them, transforming them into mother-of-pearl; and sometimes the shaft of light ran straight along the white mist as if a finger of a god were pointing downwards to the dwellings of men. Then out of the wall of mist a shadow rose and stood before him. It was faintly outlined against the whiteness that was about him, and the shadow was that of a man. And as he looked, full of surprise, another was at his side, and then a third, and these three shades pointed down the road he had been ascending. Eric turned, and there, behind him, was a whole procession of diaphanous figures all following his footsteps. They seemed transparent, yet all of them had personality; their faces although blurred and indistinct were full of different expressions. Some were old and bent, others strong, stalwart, upright. Several of the female figures were young and fair; there were even small children amongst them, and all appeared waiting for him to lead the way. He moved on, passing the three forms he had first seen, and with a shudder he realized that when he tried to touch them his fingers met nothing but space--his hand passed right through! And each time he turned his head there they were, all of them, pressing close on his heels, silent, persistent. Truly it was a gruesome company to be wandering with in this wilderness of rocks and clouds. Eric wondered how long it would last, and if they meant to go with him all the way. Who were they? And what did they want of him? Although many of them were beautiful, Eric thought them horrible and uncanny, and kept wondering in what way he could relieve himself of their presence; indeed he had not reckoned with such companions on his road. Should he turn back? But if he did he would have to pass them all, and he remembered with a shudder how his hand had gone right through those bodiless shapes when he had tried to touch them, so it was better to go forward instead of retracing his footsteps. Eric came now to a turn of the path where a great rock jutted out, barring his way in such a fashion that to pass it he would have to put one foot before the other on a ledge so narrow that the sight alone made him feel giddy and faint. Beneath him gaped the great sea of clouds covering unknown depths he could not penetrate; but forwards he must go! Was he not like a hunted animal with this procession of ghosts so remorselessly tracking him? He bravely set his face to the dangerous pass, and very carefully, his hands clutching at the rough surface of the rock, he managed to turn the dreaded corner; as he did so, there, right in the middle of his path, blocking his way, was a very old man. He sat with head bent, his long grey beard dragging on the ground; within his clasped hands he grasped a thick stick against which he was leaning.