I sprang to my feet, and
sped I knew not whither, only away from the spectre. I thought
no longer of the path, and often narrowly escaped dashing myself
against a tree, in my headlong flight of fear.
Great drops of rain began to patter on the leaves. Thunder began
to mutter, then growl in the distance. I ran on. The rain fell
heavier. At length the thick leaves could hold it up no longer;
and, like a second firmament, they poured their torrents on the
earth. I was soon drenched, but that was nothing. I came to a
small swollen stream that rushed through the woods. I had a
vague hope that if I crossed this stream, I should be in safety
from my pursuer; but I soon found that my hope was as false as it
was vague. I dashed across the stream, ascended a rising ground,
and reached a more open space, where stood only great trees.
Through them I directed my way, holding eastward as nearly as I
could guess, but not at all certain that I was not moving in an
opposite direction. My mind was just reviving a little from its
extreme terror, when, suddenly, a flash of lightning, or rather a
cataract of successive flashes, behind me, seemed to throw on the
ground in front of me, but far more faintly than before, from the
extent of the source of the light, the shadow of the same
horrible hand. I sprang forward, stung to yet wilder speed; but
had not run many steps before my foot slipped, and, vainly
attempting to recover myself, I fell at the foot of one of the
large trees.
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