THE MOON.
A desolate plain stretched before me. A full moon
looked down as if in contemplative hesitation. Under her
wavering light the shadows lived their own peculiar life.
On the horizon I saw blue hills, and over them wound a
path which stretched between two grey towers far away
into the distance. On either side the path a wolf and dog
sat and howled at the moon. I remembered that dogs
believe in thieves and ghosts. A large black crab crawled
out of the rivulet into the sands. A heavy, cold dew was
falling.
Dread fell upon me. I sensed the presence of a
mysterious world, a world of hostile spirits, of corpses
rising from graves, of wailing ghosts. In this pale moonlight
I seemed to feel the presence of apparitions;
someone watched me from behind the towers,—and I
knew it was dangerous to look back.
