The water rose to his waist, but he plunged on like one fascinated, following, ever following, the ghostly charmer.

Now the water covered his chest--a volley of rifle-shots sounded, the vision disappeared, the youth returned to his senses.

In the stillness of the night and the greater density of the air the reports reached him clearly and distinctly.

He stopped to reflect and found himself in the water--over the peaceful ripples of the lake he could still make out the lights in the fishermen's huts.
He returned to the shore and started toward the town, but for what purpose he himself knew not.

The streets appeared to be deserted, the houses were closed, and even the dogs that were wont to bark through the night had hidden themselves in fear.