As he advanced, the lights began to disappear. He seemed to have passed beyond the limits of the inhabited country, and nothing was to be seen but an uncertain road before him, and darkness on every side. The storm grew wilder, and the doubtful path, which he had previously pursued, terminated in a number of little tracks, which diverged in all directions among the furze, as if they had been formed by a flock of sheep scattered over the hill in search of their pasture. He tried to retrace his steps, in the supposition that he had taken the wrong road; but a blinding shower of snow came driving with the wind, and concealed every object which might have guided him in his return. He became completely bewildered, and every moment increased his confusion. The snow began to drift; and all the stories that he had ever heard of benighted travellers lost among the hills rushed into his mind with painful distinctness. He began to run in the direction, as he supposed, of the little hamlets which he had passed in the afternoon; but his feet got entangled among the gorse and broom which covered the hill, and he fell several times at full length among the snow. He stood still and listened, with the faint expectation that he might hear some sound which would lead him to the abodes of men. Something tinkled at a distance, between the gusts of the storm, like the ringing of a bell. He immediately shaped his course by the sound, and was glad to hear that it grew louder as he advanced. Though he could not conjecture the purpose of a bell in that deserted region, yet such it certainly was; and, as no bell will ring without motion, he trusted to find some one who would be able to direct him to a place of shelter. But, after he had walked for a considerable time, at his utmost speed, he found himself very little nearer the object of his pursuit, which seemed to retire as fast as he advanced. He again began to run, and soon had the satisfaction to find himself within a very few yards of the sound; but still he could not perceive the object from which it proceeded. The mysterious bellringer seemed to increase his speed, as if he had discovered a pursuer, and determined to elude his grasp. The stranger was out of breath; he paused to listen. The bell still rung, and still retired, though at a less rapid rate. He had never believed in ghosts nor fairies; but this mysterious phenomenon seemed to confirm his nurse's tales, and make "chimeras true." He was not one, however, who would shrink from phantoms without evidence of their existence. "Honest, honest, Iago!" said he, quoting Shakspere, 'If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee.' But, devil or ghost, I will hunt thee to thy den, and if I can overtake thee, I will tread thee under my feet."