A fantasy novel by George MacDonald

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I obeyed, abashed and stupified. How long he led, and how long I followed, I cannot tell. " I never knew misery before," I said to myself. " Would that I had at least struck him, and had had my death­blow in return ! Why, then, do I not call to him to wheel and defend himself? Alas! I know not why, but I cannot. One look from him would cow me like a beaten hound." I followed, and was silent
At length we came to a dreary square tower, in the middle of a dense forest. It looked as if scarce a tree had been cut down to make room for it. Across the very door, diagonally, grew the stem of a tree, so large that there was just room to squeeze past it in order to enter. One miserable square hole in the roof was the only visible suggestion of a window. Turret or battlement, or projecting masonry of any kind, it had none. Clear and smooth and massy, it rose from its base, and ended with a line straight and unbroken. The roof, carried to a centre from each of the four walls, rose slightly to the point where the rafters met Round the base lay several little heaps of either bits of broken branches, withered and peeled, or half-whitened bones ; I could not distinguish which. As I approached, the ground sounded hollow beneath my
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