He had no light but the light of the moon.
Stepping quietly along the creaky old corridor to the room where his father lay, Ralph opened the door and entered.

A clod of red turf smouldered on the hearth, and the warm glow from it mingled with the cold blue of the moonlight.

How full of the odor of a dead age the room now seemed to be! The roof was opened through the rude timbers to the whitened thatch.

Sheepskins were scattered about the black oaken floor.

Ralph walked to the chimney-breast, and stood on one of the skins as he leaned on the rannel-tree shelf.