The mare's hoofs sank deep into the soft sand; she soon allowed herself to fall into a lazy pace, and Reimers did not press her. Dorothy stretched out her neck and drew the bridle through her rider's fingers; he let it hang loose.
Reimers now became aware for the first time that the glasses and half-glasses in which he had answered his friends' congratulations must have amounted to a considerable number. If he tried to concentrate his thoughts on any particular subject, they slipped away from him in the most perverse manner. He reflected vaguely that this was the kind of mood in which he had of old committed all manner of pleasant follies and youthful indiscretions. And why not? Was he not young, and a free man?
How delightful was this solitude after the noise and smoke of the mess-room! It was now about six o'clock, and a heavenly June evening. The sun was still high, but the heat was no longer oppressive; the air felt soft and caressing. The dense forest on either hand was wrapped in stillness; no sound penetrated between the slender stems of the trees; the horse's tread in the soft sand made only a slight swishing noise.
At a crossing of the ways the mare came to a standstill, stretching out her nose towards a narrower lane, and snuffing the air. Finally she turned off the sandy road on to a grassy bridle-path. Reimers gave her her head; this was probably a short cut to the neighbouring village.
Now the wood became thinner. Cleared patches or young plantations alternated with the groups of tall pine-trees, and presently a fairly large meadow appeared on the left. The hay had already been carried; but in one corner the last remains of the crop had been collected and heaped together. This little haycock exhaled a penetrating fragrance, the essence of forest, grass, and sunshine, which the mare sniffed at longingly.
Suddenly there came over Reimers an irresistible desire to stretch himself out in the hay and rest there for a little. Without further thought he dismounted, pushed some hay to the mare with his foot, passed the bridle round the trunk of a pine that stood solitary at the edge of the field, and threw himself down on the soft grass. He pillowed his head on his cap, and buried himself deep in his rustling couch. He drew out along stalk and chewed at it; it still retained the sweet grassy taste. Thin wisps fell across his face, and between them he looked up into the blue sky, lazy and contented. Perfect stillness reigned around him; only as from time to time he turned his head the dry grass crackled and rustled, sounding in his ears like the snapping of twigs and branches.
At last his eyes became painful from staring so long into the dazzling blue of heaven. He shut them; all now was red instead of blue, and to lie with closed lids was grateful and delicious after the blinding light. He cast one sleepy glance at the mare. She stood there flicking her sides with her tail, and kept trying vainly to get some hay from the ground into her bit-encumbered mouth. He thought of slackening the curb for the poor beast, but was too lazy to stir.
While he was dozing off it seemed to him as if something light and fluttering passed him by; and for a moment he became aware of another perfume added to the scent of the hay--something faint, yet distinct. But he kept his eyes closed; nothing external mattered to him.
Reimers was awakened by a gentle pricking and tickling. It felt as though a wisp of hay were passing lightly over his mouth, backwards and forwards. He snatched at it, and a long stalk remained in his hand. His eyes were slightly dazzled; he was gazing straight at the sun, already considerably lower in the sky.
Lazily he looked around him. Thank goodness, the mare was still there, her head turned towards him, her ears pricked attentively.