Against the grey dusk at the window she looked to him like a slim spirit returned to haunt the halls of Aulnes--some graceful shade come back out of the hazy and forgotten years of gallantry and courts and battles--the exquisite apparation of that golden time before the Vendée drowned and washed it out in blood. "I am so glad you came," she said. "I have not felt so calm, so confident, in months." Old Anne of Fäouette laid them fresh napkins and set two crystal bowls beside them and filled the bowls with fresh water from the moat. "_Ho fois!_" she said, "love and the heart may change, but not the Woods of Aulnes; they never change--they never change.... The golden people of Ker-Ys come out of the sea to walk among the trees." The Countess whispered: "She has seen the sunbeams slanting through the trees." "_Vrai, c’est moi, Anne Le Bihan, qui vous dites cela, mon Capitaine!_ And, in the Woods of Aulnes the werewolf prowls. I have seen him, gallant gentleman. He walks upright, and, in his head, he has only eyes; no mouth, no teeth, no nostrils, and no hair--the Loup-Garou!--O Lady of Aulnes, adored and blessed, protect us from the Loup-Barou!" The Countess said again to him: "I have not felt so confident, so content, so full of faith in months----" A far faint clamour came to their ears; high in the fading sky above the forest vast clouds of wild fowl rose like smoke, whirling, circling, swinging wide, drifting against the dying light of day, southward toward the sea. "There is something wrong there," he said, under his breath. Minute after minute they watched in silence. The last misty shred of wild fowl floated seaward and was lost against the clouds. "Is there a path to the Étang?" he asked quietly. "Yes. I will go with you----" "No." "Why?" "No. Show me the path." His shotgun stood by the door; he took it with him as he left the house beside her. In the moat, close by the bridge, and pointing toward the house, L’Ombre lay motionless. They saw it as they passed, but did not speak of it to each other. At the forest’s edge he halted: "Is this the path?" "Yes.... May I not go?" "No--please." "Is there danger?" "No.... I don’t know if there is any danger." "Will you be cautious, then?" He turned and looked at her in the dim light. Standing so for a little while they remained silent. Then he drew a deep, quiet breath. She held out one hand, slowly; half way he bent and touched her fingers with his lips; released them. Her arm fell listlessly at her side. After he had been gone a long while, she turned away, moving with head lowered. At the bridge she waited for him. A red moon rose low in the east. It became golden above the trees, paler higher, and deathly white in mid-heaven. It was long after midnight when she went into the house to light fresh candles. In the intense darkness before dawn she lighted two more and set them in an upper window on the chance that they might guide him back.