To Kent it had crept into his cell like a living thing.

He watched it, fascinated.

His eyes followed it to the foot-square aperture, and there, red and glorious as it rose over the forests, the moon itself filled the world.

For a space he saw nothing but that moon crowding the frame of his window.

And as he rose to his feet and stood where his face was flooded in the light of it, he felt stirring within him the ghosts of his old hopes.