It seemed an interminable wait to Peter, back in the cabin.

Jolly Roger had put out the light, and when the moon came up the glow of it did not come into the dark room where Peter lay, for the open door was to the west, and curtains were drawn closely at both windows.

But through the door he could see the first mellowing of the night, and after that the swift coming of a soft, golden radiance which swallowed all darkness and filled his world with the ghostly shadows which seemed alive, yet never made a sound.

It was a big, splendid moon this night, and Peter loved the moon, though he had seen it only a few times in his three months of life.

It fascinated him more than the sun, for it was always light when the sun came, and he had never seen the sun eat up darkness, as the moon did.