I listened to their song, and as I listened, some troubled memory came back to me that at first I could not grasp.

Then suddenly there rose up in my mind a vision of the splendid chamber in Montezuma's palace in Tenoctitlan, and of myself sleeping on a golden bed, and dreaming on that bed.

I knew it now, I was the god Tezcat, and on the morrow I must be sacrificed, and I slept in misery, and as I slept I dreamed.

I dreamed that I stood where I stood this night, that the scent of the English flowers was in my nostrils as it was this night, and that the sweet song of the nightingales rang in my ears as at this present hour.

I dreamed that as I mused and listened the moon came up over the green ash and oaks, and lo! there she shone.