The moon was shining brightly, and by its rays I shaped my course towards the graveyard.

I drew near silently, and as I came I thought that I heard a sound of moaning on the further side of the wall.

I looked over it.

Crouched by Stella's grave, and tearing at its sods with her hands, as though she would unearth that which lay within, was _Hendrika_.

Her face was wild and haggard, her form was so emaciated that when the pelts she wore slipped aside, the shoulder-blades seemed to project almost through her skin.