44
PARTISAN REVIEW
window, drawn by a streak of light. A lamp illuminated little more
than a single point : its light fell upon the pale face of a girl who,
her eyes half-closed, slowly moving her lips, rested behind it. Further
away in the dark an old woman sat singing out of a prayerbook, her
voice harsh and throaty. After much knocking she opened the door;
she was half deaf. She served Lenz with some food and showed him
a place where he could sleep, but never ceased chanting her song.
The girl had not stirred. Some time later a man came in; he was
tall and lean, traces of gray hair, with a restless, troubled face. He
went up to the
girl,
she started and became restless. He took a dried
herb from the wall and laid its leaves on her hand, so that she grew
more quiet and hummed intelligible words in long-drawn, but piercing
tones. The man told her how he had heard a voice in the mountains
and had then seen sheet-lightning above the valleys ; he had been
seized bodily toO' and had wrestled with it like Jacob. He went down
on his knees and prayed softly but fervently, while the sick woman
sang in long-drawn, softly echoing tones. Then he settled down for
the night.
Lenz dozed dreamily, but later heard the clock ticking in his
sleep. The rushing of the wind made itself heard through the girl's
low chanting and the old woman's voice, sometimes close, sometimes
distant, and now bright, now clouded over, dreamlike the moon cast
its changing light into the room. At one time the singing became
louder, the girl spoke words both definite and distinct: she said that
on the rock opposite there stood a church. Lenz looked up: she was
sitting upright behind the table, her eyes wide open, and the moon
shed its light on her features, from which a ghostly glow seemed to
radiate ; at the same time the old woman muttered hoarsely, and
amidst this changing and sinking of the light, these sounds and
voices, Lenz at last fell into a deep sleep.
He awoke early. In the half-light of the room all were asleep,
even the girl had found some rest. She was leaning back, her hands
folded under her left cheek; the ghostly glow had faded from her
face, her expression now was one of indescribable suffering. He
stepped up to the window and opened it, the cold morning air struck
his face. The house was situated at one end of a low, narrow valley
which opened toward the east; red rays shot through the gray morn–
ing sky into the half-light of the valley, deep in white mist, sparkled
