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Weather
had
battered
it
,
and
one
corner
of
the
top
had
been
broken
by
some
old
storm
,
but
it
still
stood
foursquare
to
the
seasons
.
One
side
was
very
clear
in
the
moon
,
and
on
it
David
thought
he
could
detect
a
half
-
obliterated
legend
.
He
knelt
down
,
and
though
the
lower
part
was
obscured
beyond
hope
,
the
upper
letters
stood
out
plain
.
I
.
O
.
M
.
-
-
he
read
:
"
Jovi
Optimo
Maximo
.
"
This
uncouth
thing
had
once
been
an
altar
.
He
tiptoed
away
from
it
with
a
sudden
sense
of
awe
.
Others
had
known
this
wood
-
-
mailed
Romans
clanking
up
the
long
roads
from
the
south
,
white
-
robed
priests
who
had
once
sacrificed
here
to
their
dead
gods
.
He
was
scholar
enough
to
feel
the
magic
of
this
sudden
window
opened
into
the
past
.
But
there
was
that
in
the
discovery
which
disquieted
as
well
as
charmed
him
.
The
mysteries
of
the
heathen
had
been
here
,
and
he
felt
the
simplicity
of
the
woodland
violated
and
its
peace
ravished
.
Once
there
had
been
wild
tongues
in
the
air
,
and
he
almost
seemed
to
hear
their
echo
.
He
hurried
off
into
the
dark
undergrowth
.
.
.
.
But
now
his
mood
had
changed
.
He
felt
fatigue
,
his
eyes
were
drowsy
,
and
he
thought
of
the
anxious
Isobel
sitting
up
for
him
.
He
realized
that
this
was
the
night
of
Rood
-
Mass
-
-
pagan
and
papistical
folly
,
but
his
reason
could
not
altogether
curb
his
fancy
.
The
old
folk
said
-
-
folly
,
no
doubt
,
but
still
-
-
He
had
an
overpowering
desire
to
be
safe
in
his
bed
at
the
manse
.
He
would
retrace
his
steps
and
strike
the
road
from
Reiverslaw
.
That
would
mean
going
west
,
and
after
a
moment
’
s
puzzling
he
started
to
run
in
what
he
thought
the
right
direction
.
The
Wood
,
or
his
own
mind
,
had
changed
.
The
moonlight
was
no
longer
gracious
and
kind
,
but
like
the
dead
-
fires
which
the
old
folk
said
burned
in
the
kirkyard
.
Confusion
on
the
old
folk
,
for
their
tales
were
making
him
a
bairn
again
!
.
.
.
But
what
now
broke
the
stillness
?
for
it
seemed
as
if
there
were
veritably
tongues
in
the
air
-
-
not
honest
things
like
birds
and
winds
,
but
tongues
.
The
place
was
still
silent
so
far
as
earthly
sounds
went
-
-
he
realized
that
,
when
he
stopped
to
listen
-
-
but
nevertheless
he
had
an
impression
of
movement
everywhere
,
of
rustling
-
-
yes
,
and
of
tongues
.
Fortune
was
against
him
,
for
he
reached
a
glade
and
saw
that
it
was
the
one
which
he
had
left
and
which
he
thought
he
had
avoided
.
.
.
.
There
was
a
change
in
it
,
for
the
altar
in
the
centre
was
draped
.
At
first
he
thought
it
only
a
freak
of
moonlight
,
till
he
forced
himself
to
go
nearer
.
Then
he
saw
that
it
was
a
coarse
white
linen
cloth
,
such
as
was
used
in
the
kirk
at
the
seasons
of
sacrament
.
The
discovery
affected
him
with
a
spasm
of
blind
terror
.
All
the
tales
of
the
Wood
,
all
the
shrinking
he
had
once
felt
for
it
,
rushed
back
on
his
mind
.
For
the
moment
he
was
an
infant
again
,
lost
and
fluttering
,
assailed
by
the
shapeless
phantoms
of
the
dark
.
He
fled
from
the
place
as
if
from
something
accursed
.
Uphill
he
ran
,
for
he
felt
that
safety
was
in
the
hills
and
that
soon
he
might
come
to
the
clear
spaces
of
the
heather
.
But
a
wall
of
crag
forced
him
back
,
and
he
ran
as
he
thought
westward
towards
the
oaks
and
hazels
,
for
there
he
deemed
he
would
be
free
of
the
magic
of
the
pines
.
He
did
not
run
wildly
,
but
softly
and
furtively
,
keeping
to
the
moss
and
the
darker
places
,
and
avoiding
any
crackling
of
twigs
,
for
he
felt
as
if
the
Wood
were
full
of
watchers
.
At
the
back
of
his
head
was
a
stinging
sense
of
shame
-
-
that
he
,
a
grown
man
and
a
minister
of
God
,
should
be
in
such
a
pit
of
terror
.
But
his
instinct
was
stronger
than
his
reason
.
He
felt
his
heart
crowding
into
his
throat
,
and
his
legs
so
weak
and
uncontrollable
that
they
seemed
to
be
separate
from
his
body
.
The
boughs
of
the
undergrowth
whipped
his
face
,
and
he
knew
that
his
cheeks
were
wet
with
blood
,
though
he
felt
no
pain
.
The
trees
thinned
and
he
saw
light
ahead
-
-
surely
it
was
the
glen
which
marked
the
division
between
pine
and
hazel
.
He
quickened
his
speed
,
and
the
curtain
of
his
fear
lifted
ever
so
little
.
He
heard
sounds
now
-
-
was
it
the
wind
which
he
had
left
on
the
hilltops
?
There
was
a
piping
note
in
it
,
something
high
and
clear
and
shrill
-
-
and
yet
the
Wood
had
been
so
airless
that
his
body
was
damp
with
sweat
.
Now
he
was
very
near
air
and
sanctuary
.
