But, at length, pressing nearer, his own dark head appeared in the shield, and above him, bending toward him, Mora, shimmering in softest white, as on her wedding morn, her hands outstretched, her eyes full of a tender yearning, gazing into his.
"The Vision for which I prayed!" cried the Knight.

"O, my God! Is this the sign of Thy nearness?
Is this a promise that my wife will come to me ?" He hid his face in his hands.
A gentle touch fell lightly on his hair.
"Not a promise, Hugh," came a tender whisper close behind him.

"A sign of God's nearness; a proof of mine.

Hugh, my own dear Knight, lift up your head and look.

Your wife has come home." Leaping to his feet, he turned; still dazzled, incredulous.
No shadowy reflection this.