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 crept over the valley, they seemed to be draped in velvety blackness. Then he watched the stars come out one by one in the dark sky. Rhamon never felt alone when the stars were shining. The big moon slid up from behind the mountains and made a yellow path across the water to his very window.

Lying in his narrow bed, Rhamon listened to the night sounds—the evening call of the bulbul, the splash of the water against the boat, and the cry of the heron from the reed beds in the river. Before he went to sleep he watched for the one light that gleamed from a lonely temple on the top of a nearby hill.