Through my half-opened eyelids, I could see perhaps a square foot of earth and moss in the area encircled by my arm. That earth and that moss were lighted by a pale, trembling, yellowish glow. I understood that someone was waving a light above my head.
At last I did sit up and with a start, as though I had just awakened. And I rose to my feet, drawing back a step in bewilderment.
A man was standing before me, a very very aged man; as I remarked from the long, broad, glistening, snow-white beard that covered his chest and abdomen. That much I could see in spite of the glare from a dark lantern which he was holding with the spotlight up-turned into my face. However, his voice had no huskiness when he addressed me. It was deep and solemn, but without a sign of trembling or of faintness—on the contrary, it seemed resonant with virility and vigor. I was somewhat taken aback, besides, with the curt abruptness with which he questioned me:
“What are you doing here, Monsieur?”
That was not the greeting I had been expecting; and in view of the obvious plight I was in, I found it quite discourteous. But the man was at least three times my age, I judged, and I answered as politely as I could:
“As you see, Sir, I am off the road and quite lost, I fear.”
He kept the spotlight playing on my features, and I observed that his two piercing, extraordinarily luminous eyes were studying me critically.
“Lost, eh? And here! How did you get here, Sir? And where were you going?”