villiers , who was with me at the last , knows nothing of that awful secret of the wood , of how what we both saw die , lay upon the smooth , sweet turf amidst the summer flowers , half in sun and half in shadow , and holding the girl rachel 's hand , called and summoned those companions , and shaped in solid form , upon the earth we tread upon , the horror which we can but hint at , which we can only name under a figure .