mill. Although he was used to it, he sometimes remembered that not only fish but adders were to be found swimming about among the piles in the dark water under the floor.
He looked in the direction of the city. The night was warm and bright; a light mist was circling over the river that flowed through the woods, lost in the shimmering murk. There was not a cloud in the sky.
The miller looked behind him, and wondered afresh at the depth of his pond that found room in its bosom for the moon and the stars and the whole of the dark blue sky.
As he gazed at the pond he saw in the water something resembling a gnat flying across the stars. He looked more closely, and saw the gnat grow to the size of a fly, and the fly to a sparrow, and the sparrow to a crow, and the crow to a hawk.
"Well, I'll be damned!" cried the miller, and, raising his eyes, he saw something flying not through the water but through the air, and making straight for the mill.
"The Lord preserve us! There's Khapun again hurrying to the city after his prey. Look at him, the unholy brute, how late he is this time! It's past midnight already, and he's just starting out."
While the miller was standing there staring up at the sky, the cloud, which was now as large as an eagle, circled over the mill and began to descend.
