In the Forest of Villefere

The sun had set. The great shadows came striding over the forest.
In the weird twilight of a late summer day, I saw the path ahead glide
on among the mighty trees and disappear. And I shuddered and glanced
fearfully over my shoulder. Miles behind lay the nearest village--
miles ahead the next.

I looked to left and to right as I strode on, and anon I looked
behind me. And anon I stopped short, grasping my rapier, as a breaking
twig betokened the going of some small beast. Or was it a beast?

But the path led on and I followed, because, forsooth, I had
naught else to do.

As I went I bethought me, "My own thoughts will route me, if I be
not aware. What is there in this forest, except perhaps the creatures
that roam it, deer and the like? Tush, the foolish legends of those
villagers!"

And so I went and the twilight faded into dusk. Stars began to
blink and the leaves of the trees murmured in the faint breeze. And
then I stopped short, my sword leaping to my hand, for just ahead,
around a curve of the path, someone was singing. The words I could not
distinguish, but the accent was strange, almost barbaric.