And then I was in Hugon's house, holding the door,--there was a wolf without,--and through the window I saw the mountains; only they were so high that my heart ached to look upon them, and the wind cried down the cleft in the hills.

The wolf went away, and then, somehow, I was upon the hilltop....

There was a dead man lying in the grass, but it was too dark to see.

Hugon came up behind me, stooped, and lifted the hand....

Upon the finger was that ring you wear, burning in the moonlight....