She was fast, and must stay fast.
Presently as she stood trembling in the dark, wondering if help would
come, she heard something calling in the distance, calling, calling, and
then dying away with a sob, till the marshes were full of this pitiful
crying sound; then she heard steps floundering along, squishing in the
mud and slipping on the tufts, and through the darkness she saw a white
face with great feared eyes.
'T was a man strayed in the bogs. Mazed with fear he struggled on toward
the flickering light that looked like help and safety. And when the
poor Moon saw that he was coming nigher and nigher to the deep hole,
further and further from the path, she was so mad and so sorry that she
struggled and fought and pulled harder than ever. And though she
couldn't get loose, she twisted and turned, till her black hood fell
back off her shining yellow hair, and the beautiful light that came from
it drove away the darkness.
Oh, but the man cried with joy to see the light again.
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