The gloom was here profound, being increased by the dense masses of
foliage beneath which he was riding. By the time, however, that he
reached the summit of Snow Hill the moon struggled through the
clouds, and threw a wan glimmer over the leafy wilderness around. The
deep slumber of the woods was unbroken by any sound save that of the
frenzied rider bursting through them.
Well acquainted with the forest, Wyat held on a direct course. His brain
was on fire, and the fury of his career increased his fearful excitement.
Heedless of all impediments, he pressed forward--now dashing beneath
overhanging boughs at the risk of his neck--now skirting the edge of a
glen where a false step might have proved fatal.
On--on he went, his frenzy increasing each moment.
At length he reached the woody height overlooking the marshy tract
that formed the limit of his ride. Once more the moon had withdrawn
her lustre, and a huge indistinct black mass alone pointed out the
position of the haunted tree. Around it wheeled a large white owl,
distinguishable by its ghostly plumage through the gloom, like a sea-
bird in a storm, and hooting bodingly as it winged its mystic flight.
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