But Bettina was not listening.
While her grandfather had gone on with his talk, her little hand had grown cold in his clasp, her tongue had become dry, and her back felt as if water were running down it.
It was the Erl King that was coming, Ach Himmel! she knew it.
There were his two eyes, blazing like great stars through the fog.
Nearer they came, and nearer, and she heard the tramp of his steed, and, oh, if he called her, not even her grandfather could hold her, Willy had said so.
Brighter grew the eyes, and brighter.
"Grandfather," she tried to call, but her throat would not move. Nearer the Erl King came, and between the eyes she saw something great, and tall, and white, and dreadful. Nearer it came. Nearer! Nearer!
"Ach Himmel!" Her grandfather's voice broke the spell. "But who are coming?"
Then the two great eyes suddenly turned into torches, and one was held by the Postmaster of Jena, and the other by a French officer, and between them the lights showed a white horse, and on its back sat a man whose eyes seemed to pierce right through the fog and the darkness.
Bettina shrank against her grandfather. The one on the horse frightened her even as much as if he were the Erl King. Never had she seen such piercing eyes nor felt so terrified. He was small and stout, and he wore an overcoat of green with white facings. His hat was folded up front and back, and his mouth was as beautiful as the rest of his face was hard and terrifying. But even his beautiful lips seemed to say, "Keep out of my way, or I shall ride over you."