Some rushed out of it.

Those who stayed longest went raving mad, and died a terrible death.

Such as walked straight on, and did not spend a night there, got through well and were nothing the worse.

But those who slept even a single night in it were sure to meet with something they could never forget, and which often left a mark everybody could read.

And that old hawthorn Might have been enough for a warning--it looked so like a human being dried up and distorted with age and suffering, with cares instead of loves, and things instead of thoughts.