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."

Again came to her, as they had often come of late, dropping down through
the still air, down through the leafless boughs like joyful hopes yet to
be realized, the flute notes. What were they, those sweet sounds? She
held her breath and lifted her face toward the sky. Once, long ago in
France, the peasant girl had heard the "Voices." Were they heavenly
sweet, like these sounds? Did they drop from the sky and fill the air
like these? Oh, why should they seem like hopes to her who had put away
from her all hope? Were they bringing hope to her who must rise to toil
and lie down in weariness for labor never done; who must hold always
with sorrowing heart and clinging hands to the soul of a murderer--hold
and cling, if haply she might save--and weep for that which, for her,
might never be? Were they bringing hope that she might yet live gladly
as the birds live; that she might go beyond that and live like those who
have no sin imposed on them, to walk with the gods, she knew not how,
but to rise to things beyond her ken?

Down came the notes, sweet, shrill, white notes,--hurrying, drifting,
lingering, calling her to follow; down on her heart with healing and
comfort they fell, lightly as dew on flowers, sparkling with life,
joy-giving and pure.

Slowly she began climbing,