His ghoul-eyes and his ghastly face fascinated me. He came stooping,
with the hideous hand outstretched, like a beast of prey. I had given
myself up to a death of unfathomable horror, when, suddenly, and just as
he was on the point of seizing me, the dull, heavy blow of an axe
echoed through the wood, followed by others in quick repetition. The
Ash shuddered and groaned, withdrew the outstretched hand, retreated
backwards to the mouth of the cave, then turned and disappeared amongst
the trees. The other walking Death looked at me once, with a careless
dislike on her beautifully moulded features; then, heedless any more
to conceal her hollow deformity, turned her frightful back and likewise
vanished amid the green obscurity without. I lay and wept. The Maid of
the Alder-tree had befooled me--nearly slain me--in spite of all the
warnings I had received from those who knew my danger.