She rose and stood calmly, her eyes fixed on the mountain. David stood near and longed to touch her passive hand--to lift it to his lips--but forebore to startle her soul by so unusual an act. For all she had given him a confidence she had never bestowed on another, he felt himself held aloof, her spirit withdrawn from him and lifted to the mountain top. CHAPTER XII IN WHICH CASSANDRA HEARS THE VOICES, AND DAVID LEASES A FARM That evening David sat long on his rock holding his flute and watching the thin golden crescent of the new moon floating through a pale amber sky, and one star near its tip slowly sliding down with it toward the deepening horizon. The glowing sky bending to the purple hilltops--the crescent moon and the lone shining star--the evening breeze singing in the pines above him--the delicate arbutus blossoms hiding near his feet--the call of a bird to its mate, and the faint answering call from some distant shade--the call in his own heart that as yet returned to him unanswered, but with its quiet surety of ultimate response--the joy of these moments perfect in beauty and a more abundant assurance of gladness near at hand--filled him and lifted his soul to follow the star. Guided by the unseen hand that held the earth, the crescent moon and the star to their orbits, would he find the great happiness that should be not his alone, but also for the eyes uplifted to the mountain top and the heart waiting in the shadows for the one to be sent? Ah, surely, surely, for this had he come. He stooped to the arbutus blossoms to inhale their fragrance. He rose and, lifting his flute to his lips, played to solace his own waiting, inventing new caprices and tossing forth the notes daringly--delicately--rapturously--now penetrating and strong, now faintly following and scarcely heard, uttering a wordless gladness. Under the great holly tree in the shadows Cassandra sat, watching, as he watched, the crescent moon and the lone star sailing in the pale amber light, with the deepening purple mountain hiding the dim distance below them. Often in the early evening when her mother and Hoyle were sleeping, she would climb up here to pray for Frale that he might truly repent, and for herself that she might be strong in her purpose to give up all her cherished hopes and plans, if thereby she might save him from his own wild, reckless self. It was here his boy's passion had been revealed to her, and here she had seen him changed from boy to man, filled with a man's hunger for her, which had led him to crime, and held him unrepentant and glad could he thus hold her his own. She must give up the life she had hoped to lead and take upon her the life of the wife of Cain, to help him expiate his deed. For this must she bow her head to the yoke her mother had borne before her. In the sadness of her heart she said again and again: "Christ will understand. He was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief! He will understand."