CHAPTER III.
THE REBEL DISAPPEARS.
I saw at once that the moon was come, but for
my enterprise's sake I wished it absent. Here she
was, however, framed in cloud, with a star or two
about her, and a very tell-tale eye. The roof of
the woods freezing across the park was a mass of
dusky silver that her beams had thrown, and so bold
and sharp her glow was on every twig that slept
that individual things stood forth and stared at me,
and seemed endowed with the hue of noon in the
middle of the night. And I am sure the hour was
laid for an adventure, and crying for a deed. The
light of the moon was made of pale romance, and
bade the princess bare her casement, and the minstrel
on the sward to sing. This was the disposition
of my thoughts as I looked out of the window, and
I was so captive to their poetry that a soft touch
upon my shoulder startled me as greatly as a blow.
I glanced round quickly and found Emblem at my
side.
"He hath drained it to the dregs, my lady," says she, brandishing the coffee-pot.
"Faith! you startled me," says I. "Emblem, your foot is lighter than a cat's."
