of a free people on the same level.

In this way the second day of her occupancy of Los Cuervos closed, with
dumb clouds along the gray horizon, and the paroxysms of hysterical
wind growing fainter and fainter outside the walls; with the moon rising
after nightfall, and losing itself in silent and mysterious confidences
with drifting scud. She went to bed early, but woke past midnight,
hearing, as she thought, her own name called. The impression was so
strong upon her that she rose, and, hastily enwrapping herself, went
to the dark embrasures of the oven-shaped windows, and looked out. The
dwarfed oak beside the window was still dropping from a past shower, but
the level waste of marsh and meadow beyond seemed to advance and recede
with the coming and going of the moon. Again she heard her name called,
and this time in accents so strangely familiar that with a slight cry
she ran into the corridor, crossed the patio, and reached the open gate.
The darkness that had, even in this brief interval, again fallen upon
the prospect she tried in vain to pierce with eye and voice. A blank
silence followed. Then the veil was suddenly withdrawn; the vast plain,
stretching from the mountain to the sea, shone as clearly as in the
light of day; the moving current of the channel glittered like black
pearls, the stagnant pools like molten lead; but not a sign of life nor
motion broke the monotony of the broad expanse. She must have surely
dreamed it. A chill wind drove her back to the house again; she entered
her bedroom, and in half an hour she was in a peaceful sleep.




CHAPTER V