A gust of wind blowing from the bay made to waver the lanterns of the Golden Rose, broke and darkened the coral peace of the river, and pushed rudely against the master of those parts.

Haward laid his hand upon his horse that he loved.

"This is better than the Ring, isn't it, Mirza ?" he asked genially, and the horse whinnied under his touch.
The land was quite gray, the river pearl-colored, and the fireflies beginning to sparkle, when he rode through the home gates.

In the dusk of the world, out of the deeper shadow of the surrounding trees, his house looked grimly upon him.

The light had been at the side; all the front was stark and black with shuttered windows.