I am, however, inclined to believe that Mrs.Herne's cake had quite as much to do with the matter as insufficient nourishment.

I had never entirely recovered from the effects of its poison, but had occasionally, especially at night, been visited by a grinding pain in the stomach, and my whole body had been suffused with cold sweat; and indeed these memorials of the drow {71} have never entirely disappeared--even at the present time they display themselves in my system, especially after much fatigue of body and excitement of mind.

So there I sat in the dingle upon my stone, nerveless and hopeless, by whatever cause or causes that state had been produced--there I sat with my head leaning upon my hand, and so I continued a long, long time.

At last I lifted my head from my hand, and began to cast anxious, unquiet looks about the dingle--the entire hollow was now enveloped in deep shade--I cast my eyes up; there was a golden gleam on the tops of the trees which grew towards the upper parts of the dingle; but lower down, all was gloom and twilight--yet, when I first sat down on my stone, the sun was right above the dingle, illuminating all its depths by the rays which it cast perpendicularly down--so I must have sat a long, long time upon my stone.
And now, once more, I rested my head upon my hand, but almost instantly lifted it again in a kind of fear, and began looking at the objects before me--the forge, the tools, the branches of the trees, endeavouring to follow their rows, till they were lost in the darkness of the dingle.
And now I found my right hand grasping convulsively three forefingers of the left, first collectively, and then successively, wringing them till the joints cracked; then I became quiet, but not for long.
Suddenly I started up, and could scarcely repress the shriek which was rising to my lips.

Was it possible?
Yes, all too certain: the evil one was upon me; the inscrutable horror which I had felt in my boyhood had once more taken possession of me.