I reached it.

It remained now only to find a hollow where I could lie down, and feel at least hidden, if not secure.
But all the surface of the waste looked level.

It showed no variation but of tint: green, where rush and moss overgrew the marshes; black, where the dry soil bore only heath.

Dark as it was getting, I could still see these changes, though but as mere alternations of light and shade; for colour had faded with the daylight.
My eye still roved over the sullen swell and along the moor-edge, vanishing amidst the wildest scenery, when at one dim point, far in among the marshes and the ridges, a light sprang up.

"That is an _ignis fatuus_," was my first thought; and I expected it would soon vanish.