He was hearing his own heart-beat, his own life flowing through his veins.

Since nature in him had hurried him out of the synagogue after its own desire, he seemed to have become primitive, conscious of the human creature in him.

Now, though he rode through a bewitching air through an enchanted land, he did not ride in a dream.

All his being was alert and sagacious.

Though the confusion of footprints in the dust showed plainly where men had passed by thousands, he did not follow their lead.