'Art thou sure?'

'I know it.'

'By what?'

'By my power, which never fails. Would Chios know further?'

'No; but, stay, dost thou think Saronia is past loving other than the G.o.ddess?'

'I tell thee she loves Chios, and thou knowest it as well as I. She cannot rend the chain which binds ye twain together. The position is perilous in the extreme. Thou knowest she is bound to chast.i.ty, and wouldst thou try to break her sacred vows?'

'No; Heaven stay the thought! This I swear; but--can I trust thee?'

'Yes, Chios, thou art safe. Thy spirit comes towards me, but it cannot blend with mine, and for want of this thou mayest mistrust the need of perfect sympathy. But thou art good; I am dark and foul as Tartarus!

Evil and good cannot make one unbroken circle of harmony. Nevertheless, trust me, Chios--trust me.'

'Very well, I will. At what hour does Saronia visit the Sacred Grove of Hecate to offer sacrifice?'

'This very night at midnight.'

'Are there means of access to that grove?'

'Yes, for those who dare, but few would.'

'Which is the way?'

'Go thou to the wood outside the Temple, pa.s.s a furlong to the north; there is a low wall which thou canst easily vault. Once within the sacred enclosure, push on westward another furlong, and thou wilt see the Hecatesium, the little temple shaded with gigantic pines and cypress-trees. Yellow iris stud the ground, and crimson and white oleander grow between. Heed not the mighty thunderings proceeding from the temple, or the livid, glare-like lightning's flash springing forth between the pillars of the portico--on swiftly by it, lest thy heart faileth and thou diest. Having pa.s.sed this temple, take the winding road at its rear. This will bring thee to where three roads meet, and there thou wilt see, by the light of the waning moon and the flickering stars, an altar, and, rising above it, the three-figured statue of the Triple G.o.ddess. She, as Hecate, holding in her hands the keys of h.e.l.l and of death, facing the pit in which the altar is reared for to-night's incantations and sacrifice. Secrete thyself before midnight behind the base of one of the tall trees. Thou wilt not have long to wait ere the light of a torch will stream upon the dark green foliage and a woman's form will appear, and, later, as she approaches, dark tresses waving in the breeze, and, if light enough, two eyes like stars of night, o'ershadowed by eyebrows like cloudlets of gloom. Those are the eyes of Saronia, the priestess of Hecate. Darest thou to be there and speak to her? I think not. Weigh well thy intentions, Chios, before setting out on such an awful journey. Let me entreat thee, good man; let me beg of thee--forswear this enterprise!'

'Farewell, Endora--that is thy name, is it not?'

'Yes, my lord.'

'Farewell, Endora--farewell. Keep the secret, as thou hast said.'

'I will, and perchance some power may save thee from the vengeance of earth and h.e.l.l.'

CHAPTER XIV

THE GROVE OF HECATE

The evening sun had set behind great frowning clouds of crimson and gray; dark ma.s.ses like funeral steeds moved slowly through the sky. The night came, dark and dreary; a sable mantle of clouds hung from east to west like a wall of gloom, and when from noon ten hours had sped Chios went forth, following the highway to the Temple. He was clad in a mantle of azure blue, shrouded from head to foot; his most intimate friends would have pa.s.sed without knowing him. The Temple was at his right hand, and he had gained the outskirts of the great forest of pine-trees. He saw the river Cayster winding towards the sea like a river of death.

He entered the grove; the tall trees shook their mighty foliage, warning him in accents deep as the voice of judgment. What did he care? Forward he went. If all the trees of that wood had voices loud as the thunderings of the G.o.ds and spoke to him, he would not stay one step towards the goal.

No, as he penetrated further his courage grew stronger and his mind firmer. At last, through the darkness, he saw the wall which surrounded the Sacred Grove. For a moment he stood still, but to think of the commands of Endora. Then, with a bound, he was over, and stood on ground unlawful for him to tread; but what cared he? On he moved carefully, for fear the rustling shrubs might betray him, until he saw the looming of the Temple of Hecate. He heard weird sounds issuing forth, and fierce fires seemed to burn within the sacred shrine of the Infernal G.o.ddess.

Ever and anon from between the pillars of the portico, guarding it like a flaming sword, there flashed forth bars of light, and mighty thunderings came bellowing from that most dreadful fane, followed by shrieks like the cries of drowning men when they founder with their barque. All was as Endora had said. But Chios heeded nothing. Such he expected, and was prepared to meet them as a man who had determined to hazard all; and, pa.s.sing stealthily by the marble pile, he gained the footpath at the rear, and followed on; gained the site where stood the trench and its awful altar of the G.o.ddess. Then, for the first time, he freely drew breath, and sat down at the foot of the statue of Diana Triformis. Presently he hid behind a wide-spreading tree, and waited for Saronia.

Several forms like men or women or demons pa.s.sed by towards the Temple; he heard their mutterings, but saw not their faces. The time hung heavily on his hands. 'Twas still half an hour to midnight, and the waning moon was hid--not a star shone forth to comfort him. The wild beasts of the grove howled from their distant lair.

Then came a convulsion in the heavens--the gathering storm-clouds spoke to each other and exchanged lightning glances until the sky was a sea of fire. Great clouds whirled up from the west, and others bore down from the east, and they mingled around the moon in one great aerial war until the heavens were rent asunder, and the east wind gained the mastery, sweeping the surging war-clouds away to the western sky in the dark-blue depths. The waning moon shone out with sickly hue, and the diamond stars sprung forth, and soft clouds moving onwards like dark-stoled virgin priestesses bowed to the Queen of Heaven.

Chios starts; he shrinks; he sees the glare of torches coming down the Sacred Way; he counts them as they wildly dance upon the midnight air--one, two--five--eight. He is undone! She cometh not alone! Towards him sweeps the fiery line until within a hundred paces it stops, and forms a circle, seven around, with one uplifted torch within the sacred zone. The circle breaks and forms two lines and the centre figure pa.s.ses between, moving onward to the altar. The others in serpent form move sinuously back to the Temple of Hecate.

The solitary figure, the haughty torch-bearer, draws nearer, until Chios sees by the lurid glare the dark ma.s.ses of hair floating on the wind, and fancies he sees the mysterious eyes beneath the marble brow. He could not mistake her--he knew her too well. It was Saronia, the priestess, arrayed in her priestly robes.

She was standing by the statue of the great G.o.ddess with head thrown back. The flame of the torch like a serpent of fire coiled and uncoiled like a living thing, and lit up the band of gold which circled her head, and shone on her mantle of sable hue.

Then, stretching out her hands towards the earth, she addressed the G.o.ddess:

'Hail, Hecate!

Hail, Diana!

Luna, Hail!

G.o.ddess of Heaven, the Earth, and the Underworld.

Thou rollest the heavens around the steady pole.

Thou illuminest the sun.

Thou governest the world.

Thou treadest on the dark realms of Tartarus.

The stars move responsive to thy command.

The G.o.ds rejoice in thy divinity.

The hours and the seasons return by thy appointment, And the elements reverence thy decree.

Hear me, O Moon!

Hear me, great Saviour!

Listen, dread Hecate!

A black lamb I bring thee.'

Then, seizing the lamb, she raised it to the altar and slew it, and the red blood danced o'er the marble shrine. And taking a golden vase filled with baneful oblation, she poured it over the victim, at the same time swinging the torch to and fro above her head, chanting:

'Come forth, thou moon, with propitious light.

Cold, silent G.o.ddess! at this witching hour To thee I'll chant.

Hail, Hecate! prodigious demon, hail!

Come at the last, and make the work prevail, That the strong brewage may perform its part, No worse than that was made by Circe's art, By bold Medea, terrible as fair, Or Perimedea of the golden hair.'

Then the earth shook, and spiral columns of vapour rose around the altar, and from each column came a spectre of fire and stood with outstretched hands.

The priestess placed the resinous wood around the sacrifice, and applying her torch, the altar was crowned with flame, and the spirits drew nigh and drank up the odour, dancing in wild fury around the pyre.

Then spoke Saronia:

'Ye wandering spirits, ye starving, lonely shades destined to require the sustenance ye seldom receive, take this oblation, drink ye in the nurture as it arises, take it from the great queen G.o.ddess through the hands of her priestess;' and the spirits chanted:

'Hail, Saronia!