He lay watching the red unequal glow thrown upwards from the embers, and through the wide opening in the roof he could discern the twinkling of a star.
Within the chamber of La Meffraye there was silence.

Sholto could not even hear the heavy breathing of Caesar Martin.

The silence was complete.
Suddenly, from far away, there came up the howling of a wolf.

It was not an uncommon sound in the forests of France, or even in those of his own country, yet somehow Sholto listened with a growing dread.
Nearer and nearer it came, till it seemed to reverberate immediately beneath the eaves of the dwelling of Caesar the cripple.
The flicker of the embers died slowly out.

Malise lay without a sound, his head couched on his hand.