she was ignorant.

Not long after, she saw one evening the little crescent of the new moon
appear among the stars. But it soon disappeared behind the brow of
the Cathedral, like a bright, living eye that the lid re-covers.
She followed it with regret, and at each nightfall she awaited its
appearance, watched its growth, and was impatient for this torch which
would ere long light up the invisible. In fact, little by little, the
Clos-Marie came out from the obscurity, with the ruins of its old mill,
its clusters of trees, and its rapid little river. And then, in the
light, creation continued. That which came from a vision ended in being
embodied. For at first she only perceived that a dim shadow was moving
under the moonlight. What was it, then? A branch moved to and fro by the
wind? Or was it a large bat in constant motion? There were moments when
everything disappeared, and the field slept in so deathly a stillness
that she thought her eyes had deceived her. Soon there was no longer any
doubt possible, for a dark object had certainly just crossed the open
space and had glided from one willow-tree to another. It appeared, then
disappeared, without her being able exactly to define it.

One evening she thought she distinguished the dim outline of two
shoulders, and at once she turned her eyes towards the chapel window. It
had a greyish tint, as if empty, for the moon shining directly upon
it had deadened the light within. At that moment she noticed that the
living shadow grew larger, as it approached continually nearer and
nearer, walking in the grass at the side of the church. In proportion as
she realised it was a fact that someone was there, she was overcome by
an indefinable sensation, a nervous feeling that one has on being looked
at by mysterious unseen eyes.