He tied it up with his handkerchief, and limped home the three miles, too happy to think of consequences.
Before he had gone far, the moon floated up on the horizon, large, and shaped like the broadside of a barrel.

She stared at him in amazement to see him out at such a time of the night.

But he grasped his violin and went on.

He had no fear now, even when he passed again over the desolate moss, although he saw the stagnant pools glimmering about him in the moonlight.

And ever after this he had a fancy for roaming at night.