He was alone with the bird who throbbed from the copse, and as he sat in
the sublime stillness he fancied he saw some does peep forth. They were
there, of course, with their new-born fawns.

But where was she, the nymph of the night?

His heart ached, the longing grew intense until it was a mighty force.
He felt he could stride across the luminous park which separated them,
and scale the wall to the casement window of the long gallery, to clasp
her once more in his arms. And, as it is with all those beings who have
scorned and denied his power, Love was punishing him now by a complete
annihilation of his will. At last he buried his face in his hands; it
was almost agony that he felt.

When he uncovered his eyes again he saw, far in the distance, a filmy
shadow. It seemed to be now real, and now a wraith, as it flitted from
tree to tree, but at last he knew it was real--it was she--Halcyone! He
started to his feet, and there stood waiting for her.

She came with the gliding movement he now knew belonged in her dual
personality to the night.

Her hair was all unbound, and her garment was white.

All reason, all resolution left him. He held out his arms.

"My love!" he cried. "I have waited for you--ah, so long!"

And Halcyone allowed herself to be clasped next his heart, and then