Indeed, it was a wondrous night! one of those warm still nights
which seem full of vague and untold possibilities! A night with
magic in the air, when elves and fairies dance within their grassy
rings, or biding amid the shade of trees, peep out at one between
the leaves; or again, some gallant knight on mighty steed may come
pacing slowly from the forest shadows, with the moonlight bright
upon his armour.
Yes, surely there was magic in the air to-right! I half wished
that some enchanter might, by a stroke of his fairy wand, roll
back the years and leave me in the brutal, virile, Good Old Times,
when men wooed and won their loves by might and strength of arm,
and not by gold, as is so often the case in these days of ours. To
be mounted upon my fiery steed, lance in hand and sword on thigh,
riding down the leafy alleys of the woods yonder, led by the
throbbing, sighing melody. To burst upon the astonished dancers
like a thunder-clap; to swing her up to my saddle-bow, and clasped
in each other's arms, to plunge into the green mystery of forest.
My fancies had carried me thus far when I became aware of a small,
furtive figure, dodging from one patch of shadow to another.
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