A T first the road was smooth and level; there were no hills, and The Man had many companions. They laughed with him and made merry, and there was no thought of care.
“’Tis a pleasant life,” murmured The Man; but even as he said the words he wondered half fearfully if it could last, if the country through which they passed would always be as pleasant.
Gradually the way became harder. Quite often The Man was compelled to pause for breath, for there were difficult places to get over; and when he turned for assistance to the companions who had laughed and jested with him but a little while before, he found that they had passed just beyond calling distance. At least they seemed not to hear him, for they did not stop. But the way was not all hilly; and when he came to the smoother places The Man hurried on faster than before, and, catching up[46] with his companions, was welcomed by them, and they all made merry once more.
The smoother places became rarer, however, and The Man found himself alone many times, till one day he was joined by a new companion.
“He will be like the others,” said The Man bitterly: “he will not stay with me.”
But the other heard him. “Do not fear,” he answered, “I will stay with you to the journey’s end. I will never leave you.”
Nevertheless, The Man did not like his new companion. He was not like the others. He never jested and made merry, and after that first time he did not speak again. He was gaunt and thin, and was clothed in rags; but he stayed with The Man when the others ran on ahead or lagged behind.
One day when The Man was weary, for there was no longer any one to cheer him, and the way had become very hard, he plucked up courage to speak to his silent companion again.
“’Tis true you do not leave me like the rest,” he said; “they all deserted me when we left the pleasant country; but I do not know you yet. If we must travel together we should get better acquainted.”
“Mine is not a pleasant name, and few care to know me better than necessity compels,” answered the Silent One; “but had you waited a little longer you would not have needed to ask.[47] I am known by many names, but those who know me best call me Poverty.”
The Man picked himself up from where he had thrown himself to rest, and hurried on, trying to leave his companion behind. But the one in rags followed close, and when The Man stumbled and fell, exhausted by his exertions, the other was just at his heels.
And about this time The Man noticed that a third wayfarer had joined them. He could not see the new comer’s face, however, for he always kept a little way behind; and there seemed to be a kind of shroud-like hood over his head.
There were no longer any easy stretches in the road, and The Man moved slowly. Many times he stumbled and fell, and each time it was longer before he rose again. He wondered, but dared not ask the name of the new arrival who had moved nearer, and was now but a few steps behind.
At last The Man came to a part of the way more difficult than any before; and he lay down for a few minutes to rest. After a time he tried to go on, but could not. He was too weak, and his two companions seemed to be conspiring to hold him back. He summoned all his strength, and made one last effort to go on. At first he seemed to advance a little, but the hand of The Ragged One thrust him back. He stumbled, fell, rose again, and staggered on a few steps, then fell once more and could not rise.
[48]“This is the end,” he heard the Silent One saying; “and I have kept my word; I am still with you.”
There was a sound of footsteps approaching stealthily, and The Man opened his eyes with an effort. The companion who had always lagged behind was advancing swiftly, and the black hood was drawn away from his face.
Painfully The Man raised himself on his elbow and looked at the figure for a second, then fell back.
“How strange that I did not know you before,” he muttered faintly, for he had seen the other’s face, and recognized that it was Death.