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CHAPTER XVII. When he left the camp, he travelled toward the Sand Hills. On the fourth night of his journeying he had a dream. He dreamed that he went into a little lodge in which was an old woman. This old woman said to him, "Why are you here, my son?" Yet does she not triumph over her beaten foe; nay, so different is it with her that she reaches forth her hand to raise her again, and strives by every tender means in her power to obliterate all memory of the unpleasant past..
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Conrad
The woman called again, "No, no; do not go on; come now and wrestle once with me." Perhaps Longfellow has more cleverly—and certainly more tenderly—than any other poet described the earlier approaches of the god of Love, when he says,— "It was placed here; I feel it, I know it," says Mona, solemnly, laying her hand upon the panel. Her earnestness impresses him. He wakes into life. This speech has the effect of electricity. They all start; with one consent they give the desired oath. The cards fall to the ground, the fortune forgotten; the mare becomes of very secondary importance; another stitch drops in the fated sock..
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