Explore "God and the Man" by Robert W. Buchanan on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I shrank back in horror, thinking at first that I looked upon a ghost; while he, with a faint cry, brandished the hatchet, and struck feebly at the air.
Methinks I see him now as I saw him then--his face ghastly and foul, his cheeks sunken, his hair and beard wild and unclean, his raiment torn, and his whole form stained with rain and the moisture of weedy caves. Spectral he seemed, and hideous, like one risen from the dead.