There was no rain, but his hair and mustache were wet with a fog that was as thick as wool.

By touch rather than by sight he presently became aware that he had left the heath, and was walking on down-land.

Suppose he were nearing the verge of that line of cliff's which he had just seen, and should come to it before he was aware! As he paused, in some apprehension of this, all of a sudden a song broke upon his ear, like a solemn chant: "Keep us, O keep us, King of kings, Under thine own almighty wings." He did not recognize the words, but the tone in which they were sung, though muffled by the dense atmosphere, struck him as especially sweet and earnest.

The next instant, walking rapidly, with a light and graceful motion, the dim figure of a young girl passed in front of him, and the mist closed behind her, though he still heard her pious psalm.
Richard stood like one enchanted.

Was she an angel sent to warn him of his peril, or an evil spirit clothed in beauty and holiness to lure him on to it?
He gave a great shout, and the harmonious voice, already faint, grew still at once.