The first breath of air that he had
noticed for days was stirring the leaves, and he saw the new moon like
a golden sickle poised above the broken summit of a hayrick. It was a
serenely beautiful nights with an atmosphere undoubtedly cooler than
any they had had of late; he looked at the peaceful fields, and the
fruit trees and the barn roof, all so gently, imperceptibly touched by
the young and tender moonbeams; and he thought that the thin yellow
crescent was being watched by thousands and thousands of eyes, that
men were turning their money, and wishing for luck, for fame, or for
satisfied love. But he only of all men might not wish for the desire
of his heart, and to him only the moon could bring nothing but pain.
He went through the kitchen garden, and stood under an apple tree
staring back at the window of her room. And still older memories
sprang up and grew strong, so that they might attack and overcome and
utterly undo him. The wild bad fancies of his adolescence came
thronging upon him. Imagination and fact entangled themselves; the
past and the present fused, and became one vast throbbing distress. He
thought if he crept beneath the window and called to her, she would
answer his call. If he told her to do so, she would come out in her
night-dress--she would walk bare-footed through the fields, and plunge
with him into the wonderful wood.
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