And the eyes looked upon the quivering floor, and the ears heard how the wheels were turning ever more slowly--the wheels slipped and turned again, and then suddenly--they stopped.
The train had halted.
Then a dream set in.

It was not terrible, rather fantastic, unfamiliar to the memory, strange.

The dreamer himself seemed to remain aside, only his bodiless apparition moved about, spoke soundlessly, walked noiselessly, suffered without suffering.

As in a dream, they walked out of the car, formed into parties of two, inhaled the peculiarly fresh spring air of the forest.

As in a dream, Yanson resisted bluntly, powerlessly, and was dragged out of the car silently.
They descended the steps of the station.
"Are we to walk ?" asked some one almost cheerily.
"It isn't far now," answered another, also cheerily.
Then they walked in a large, black, silent crowd amid the forest, along a rough, wet and soft spring road.