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Lilith

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"Mr. Vane," croaked the raven, "think what you are doing! Twice already has evil befallen you−−once from<br />

fear, and once from heedlessness: breach of word is far worse; it is a crime."<br />

"The Little Ones are in frightful peril, and I brought it upon them!" I cried. "−−But indeed I will not break my<br />

word to you. I will return, and spend in your house what nights−−what days−−what years you please."<br />

"I tell you once more you will do them other than good if you go to−night," he insisted.<br />

But a false sense of power, a sense which had no root and was merely vibrated into me from the strength of<br />

the horse, had, alas, rendered me too stupid to listen to anything he said!<br />

"Would you take from me my last chance of reparation?" I cried. "This time there shall be no shirking! It is<br />

my duty, and I will go−−if I perish for it!"<br />

"Go, then, foolish boy!" he returned, with anger in his croak. "Take the horse, and ride to failure! May it be to<br />

humility!"<br />

He spread his wings and flew. Again I pressed the lean ribs under me.<br />

"After the spotted leopardess!" I whispered in his ear.<br />

<strong>Lilith</strong><br />

He turned his head this way and that, snuffing the air; then started, and went a few paces in a slow, undecided<br />

walk. Suddenly he quickened his walk; broke into a trot; began to gallop, and in a few moments his speed<br />

was tremendous. He seemed to see in the dark; never stumbled, not once faltered, not once hesitated. I sat as<br />

on the ridge of a wave. I felt under me the play of each individual muscle: his joints were so elastic, and his<br />

every movement glided so into the next, that not once did he jar me. His growing swiftness bore him along<br />

until he flew rather than ran. The wind met and passed us like a tornado.<br />

Across the evil hollow we sped like a bolt from an arblast. No monster lifted its neck; all knew the hoofs that<br />

thundered over their heads! We rushed up the hills, we shot down their farther slopes; from the rocky chasms<br />

of the river−bed he did not swerve; he held on over them his fierce, terrible gallop. The moon, half−way up<br />

the heaven, gazed with a solemn trouble in her pale countenance. Rejoicing in the power of my steed and in<br />

the pride of my life, I sat like a king and rode.<br />

We were near the middle of the many channels, my horse every other moment clearing one, sometimes two<br />

in his stride, and now and then gathering himself for a great bounding leap, when the moon reached the<br />

key−stone of her arch. Then came a wonder and a terror: she began to descend rolling like the nave of<br />

Fortune's wheel bowled by the gods, and went faster and faster. Like our own moon, this one had a human<br />

face, and now the broad forehead now the chin was uppermost as she rolled. I gazed aghast.<br />

Across the ravines came the howling of wolves. An ugly fear began to invade the hollow places of my heart;<br />

my confidence was on the wane! The horse maintained his headlong swiftness, with ears pricked forward,<br />

and thirsty nostrils exulting in the wind his career created. But there was the moon jolting like an old<br />

chariot−wheel down the hill of heaven, with awful boding! She rolled at last over the horizon−edge and<br />

disappeared, carrying all her light with her.<br />

The mighty steed was in the act of clearing a wide shallow channel when we were caught in the net of the<br />

darkness. His head dropped; its impetus carried his helpless bulk across, but he fell in a heap on the margin,<br />

and where he fell he lay. I got up, kneeled beside him, and felt him all over. Not a bone could I find broken,<br />

but he was a horse no more. I sat down on the body, and buried my face in my hands.<br />

<strong>Lilith</strong> 101

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