His torch was burning low, but he thrust it forward to look at him who crouched against the rock.

The dress was the dress of a man, but this was no man's form--nay, rather that of a lovely woman, well-nigh white in colour.

She dropped her hands from before her face, and now he could see her well.

He saw eyes that shone like stars, hair that curled and fell upon the shoulders, and such beauty as was not known among our people.

And as the voice had spoken to him of something that was lost, so did the eyes seem to shine across the blackness of many years, and the beauty to bring back he knew not what.
He looked at the girl in all her loveliness, and she looked at him in his fierceness and his might, red with war and wounds.