Yet, despite the thought, his eyes turned again towards the distant road. An’ he were sure of shelter beyond the summit of the climb he might risk the storm which very certainly would break upon him. For the space of some moments he hesitated. Then common sense won the day. The white road might lead him but on some fool’s errand. Before him lay obvious cover from the oncoming deluge. He stepped out across the coarse grass, now hastening his steps somewhat. Nearing the forest the grass became shorter and smoother, but here the bog began to show itself.
“I bargained not for this,” said Peregrine, as his feet sank into the slush. Even as he spoke heavy drops began to fall; thunder muttered very ominously. A third time he glanced towards the distant road.
“Bah!” he said, “’tis too far off. A sharp transit, and shelter will be gained.” He made quick strides forward. The atmosphere, which had been windless, was suddenly rent by a heavy blast. “Now it comes,” said Peregrine, as the storm beat upon him, and the rain sluiced down on the sodden earth.
“A very miry way,” muttered Peregrine breathless as he gained the margin of the forest, looked ruefully down at his feet. Turning, he looked behind him. Where had been spongey earth were now wide pools, stung by falling rain, whipped by slashing wind. The further landscape was blotted out by mist and quick-gathering dusk.
“A most villainous storm,” said Peregrine, “and it is well I have found cover from it. Here I must bide for a while at least. There is no re-crossing that morass.”
Now he must think what to do. To sit quiet where he was, and watch the rain were dull and dismal work. For all that the forest was very dark it might be well to explore somewhat further. He turned down a winding path. In spite of the first sense of darkness he was now aware of a curious light glimmering through the place. This came, he saw, from some strange fungus on the trunks of the trees, which gave forth an uncanny illumination. It was faint truly, but sufficed to show the path before him.
As he walked, the odour of the forest struck upon his nostrils, heavy, sickly-sweet. Passing to his brain it dulled his senses somewhat, like the odour of a powerful drug. He found himself pursuing his way after the manner of a man half-dreaming, heedless now of where his path might lead. Half drowsed though he was he noted now and again the orchids that grew among the trees, saw their spotted hue, their twisted reptile-like form. Despite his drowsiness he felt some slight repulsion at the sight of them, thought momentarily on sun-kissed flowers in open meadows. By contrast the orchids fared ill in his mind. But sleep clutching at his eyelids made thought an effort.
He stumbled onward very heavily. How long he walked he knew not. It might have been an hour, two hours; yet, time perchance being as leaden-footed as he, it might have been a bare ten minutes.
Suddenly, with no volition on his own part, his brain swung from dulness, roused itself to action; and strange action truly. It awakened, it would seem, from stupor to fantastic delirium. He felt himself vividly alive, and utterly alone. Alone he was verily in that forest devoid of living creatures. Yet the loneliness was of spirit rather than of body. In that moment his spirit was caught up into space. Knowing the earth beneath him, solid, material, around and above him were vast distances, deep silences. In the furthest distance, in the deepest silence, at so great an altitude that his brain seeing it reeled, gleamed a great star. Now here was the fuller fantasy. Within the depth of his own soul he was conscious of a like spot of light, a glowing star, yet very tiny. And he knew that between the star within him and the star above him was a strange attraction.
In space then his spirit hung, poised on nothingness, so it seemed. And here he was aware that he himself held his soul thus poised. By will he could clutch at the earth beneath him, draw himself down to it; by relinquishment of will he could be drawn, by virtue of the star within him, into the distance to the other star, infinitely remote. Deep silence lay around him, a hush as of expectation and waiting. To him like a breath of wind from far-off places came the words, “Excelsus super omnes gentes Dominus, et super cælus gloria ejus.” He knew now what it meant; saw in a lightning flash where the choice lay. Yet the vastness above him filled him with terror. A strange cowardice seized upon him; a frantic desire for the material, the solid. Madly his will clutched at the earth beneath him....