The way ahead looked endless, as if they were but treading sand behind them which only returned in front to be trodden over again.

It was to her like the valley of the dead, and she longed to get out of it.

A great fear lest the moon should go down and leave her in this low valley alone in the dark took hold upon her.

She felt she must get away, up higher.

She turned the horse a little more to the right, and he paused, and seemed to survey the new direction and to like it.