Afar off were bonfires of farms and homesteads, twinkling in the night with their blood-colored lights.
The bewildered proprietor of the castle finally fell asleep in a bed in the lodge, made mercifully unconscious by the heavy and stupefying slumber of exhaustion, without fright nor nightmare.

He seemed to be falling, falling into a bottomless pit, and on awaking fancied that he had slept but a few minutes.

The sun was turning the window shades to an orange hue, spattered with shadows of waving boughs and birds fluttering and twittering among the leaves.

He shared their joy in the cool refreshing dawn of the summer day.

It certainly was a fine morning--but whose dwelling was this?
.