The moon had ceased to shine in through the window-panes, and it had grown quite dark; but the old man still sat in his arm-chair with folded hands and gazed before him into the emptiness of the room.
Gradually, the murky darkness around him dissolved away before his eyes and changed into a broad dark lake; one black wave after another went rolling on farther and farther, and on the last one, so far away as to be almost beyond the reach of the old man's vision, floated lonely among its broad leaves a white water-lily.
The door opened, and a bright glare of light filled the room.
"I am glad that you have come, Bridget," said the old man. "Set the lamp upon the table."
Then he drew his chair up to the table, took one of the open books and buried himself in studies to which he had once applied all the strength of his youth.