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rolling heavily, and slowly changing their shapes into monsters, and unwillingly moving forward, yielding to some terrible and invisible power.
Only one light, transparent, small cloud, feeble and frightened, having torn itself from the rest, was solitarily wandering in every direction.
II.
Tenaida became pale, her lips red, almost purple, the pupils of her eyes dilated perceptibly, darkening her eyes, and she began to whisper very softly:
“I am afraid of something. Here it is so quiet; have we not lost our way?”
Niemoviecke knitted his thick eyebrows, and attentively cast a glance at the locality.
Now the sun had set, and under the fresh breath of the coming night, the
