e further fringe of the night was spoiled by the
comprehensive yellow wink of a lighthouse; and these things tainted the
black and white immaculacy of the hour. It was not on earth but overhead
that the essence of the night displayed itself. Light rushed from the
moon into the sky like a strong wind, carrying before it some shining
vapours that might have been angels' clouts blown off a heavenly line.
It was as if some horseplay was going on among the ethereal forces; for
the stars, dimmed by the violent brilliance of the moon, were like
tapers seen through glass, and were held, perhaps, by invisible beings
who had been drawn to their windows by the sound of carnival. To its
zenith the night was packed with gaiety.

"Richard, Richard, is it not beautiful?" she cried.

"Yes, yes," he answered.

They reached the topmost elm in the row, and opened a gate into a field
which stretched inland from the hill's brow. Under the shadow of its
seaward edge they still walked westerly, the ploughed earth looking like
a patch of grey corduroy lying to their right. It struck her that he was
moving now like a hunter stalking his quarry, as if the lightness of his
feet were a weapon, as if he were looking forward to an exciting kill.
At the corner of the field they stopped before a gap in the hedge.
Triple barbed wire crossed a vista of close-cropped grass running to
trees that lifted dark spires against the pale meridian starlight.

"Wait," said Richard.

He went forward and stamped down the long grasses at one side of the
gap, and then bent nearly double and seemed to be pressing against
something with his hands and his knee. The barbed wire began to hum, to
buzz excitedly; there was the groan of cracking wood, and the grunt of
his deep, straining breath. She found herself running her hands over her
face and down her body and thinking, "Since he is like that, and I am
like this, all will be well." That was quite meaningless; it must be
true that one of the moon's rays was unreason. The barbed wire danced
and fell to the ground, singing angrily. Richard had broken in two the
stake which supported it.

"Come on," he ordered her, and lifted her over the tangle of wires. They
walked forward, again on the hilltop's unscreened edge. The harbour was
hidden by the elms, but below lay the frosted marsh and islands, girdled
by the glistening sea-walls and their coal black shadows, and great wide
Kerith, its expanse jewelled here and there