Hail, Saronia!

Princess born And mighty priestess!

Hail, thou minister of Tartarus!

Feeder of the G.o.ds-forsaken ones!

Blessings ever be upon thee, Blessings such as we can give, Thin and faint as misty vapour, Tinged with h.e.l.l and cold d.a.m.nation; Yet we bless thee as we may, For love a spark remains within us, And we wait for our redemption, Working out our fearful destiny, Till those we injured grant release, And the Mighty All Creative Pa.s.s us to the fields Elysian.'

They disappeared, and Saronia, the fearful priestess, was alone.

Shielding her eyes that she might not look again upon the sacrifice, she turned to move away.

She had pa.s.sed but a few steps from the altar when Chios came forth from his hiding-place and followed her. She heard his steps, and fearing to look around lest her sacrifice should be incomplete, kept on her way to the Temple of Hecate.

Chios was soon by her side. She gazed for a moment on his face, and fell to the ground as dead.

He raised her carefully, bore her to the foot of a great laurel-tree, and taking his cloak, placed her on it, and bent over her in agony.

'O fool, what hast thou done? Thou hast slain her! O cursed hour! Shades of night, seize me, take me to your Hades, torture me, but, holy heavens, restore Saronia! O cruel fate! Most cruel destiny! What cause is there for this?'

The talisman! the shrine he wore! the gift! He had heard of its wondrous power. He tore it from his neck, and placed it on her chilly brow.

Her eyes opened, and she essayed to rise.

Chios moved to help her; but, no, she sprang to her feet, and stepping back from him, looked like a tigress at bay. For a moment words would not flow at her command, but her eyes burnt into his very soul, and still she spoke not.

He wished a thousandfold he had never dared to confront her in such a dreadful place and against such fearful odds. He knew he was observed by troops of invisible beings thirsting for vengeance, and that one word of hers would loose them, those hounds of h.e.l.l, in all their fury. He feared them not. 'Twas the scathing, burning eyes of the priestess which withered him--so changed from love to hate.

All those thoughts pa.s.sed through his mind with the force of a whirlwind. He felt he had penetrated like a robber within the magic circle of her power, taking mean advantage of her secret life, betraying all confidence. What was to be done? He would not pa.s.s like a dream--a horrid dream--to her; that would end all. No, he must finish his work, whatever might follow. He would speak to her.

'Saronia, forgive me; I am mad. I know not what unknown power compels me to this wicked act. I could not stay from thee. As the stars vibrate to each other, so my soul to thine. Speak, Saronia! I have dared death to see thee, to speak to thee. Answer me, Saronia! Let me hear thy dear, sweet voice, even if it be a curse thou utterest.'

She stood forth again in all her majesty; her great spirit had gained supremacy; her eyes shone forth like diamonds wet with dew, and she said:

'What evil fate brings thee here? Death awaits both if mortal eye beholds us. For thy many acts of kindness I overlook thy madness. Thou knowest the way, return quickly, and never intrude thyself again. One word: thou hast been spectator of the rites and mysteries, hast seen my power. Understand, I could raise armies, if needs be, to destroy thee--could blast thee like a tree whose life has pa.s.sed, by one fell stroke of lightning. Now away, no more!'

'Saronia! Saronia! Bear with me but for one brief moment! Hear my story, then I go.'

'Why should I? Thou knowest full well I am dedicated to my faith, to my G.o.ddess. Why tempt me to evil?'

'Saronia, I have striven hard to avoid this, and before to-night have succeeded. I could no longer bear this worse than death, and have sought thee here to tell thee I love thee, have ever loved thee, even when thou wert a slave. I have thrown aside the glamour of the world for one sweet word from thee.'

'How can I help thy love?'

'Thou canst return it by one sweet smile of pity--pity is the twin sister of love.'

'I will give thee no encouragement. I swear by the hosts above, around, and beneath that I repel Chios the lover, and make it known clearly to thee I stand pure and unsullied before the G.o.ddess I have just evoked.

Shame on thee! Thou wouldst shake the strong foundation on which my spirit rests. Away, I say again, for fear she whom I serve may compel me to curse thee! Go!'

'Before I say farewell, perchance for ever, is this thy shrine, this trinket thine?'

'Yes. I sought shelter, not knowing whither. Two statues standing near the doorway caught my gaze, and through the open door I beheld thy prostrate form. Thinking death or sickness visited Chios, I entered, remembering thy goodness. Thou wert asleep and sighing forth my name. I foolishly placed that little token on thy breast, and the Fates have worked it well so far as it is concerned, for by its power thou hast brought back my life--not that my death would have been of great moment, but thy crime would have been magnified and thy suffering intense.

Little did I think such small pretext as a simple act of grat.i.tude from me would have brought thee here. Now I have told thee all. Go, for thy life!'

'No, I will stay. My determination is strengthening, my mission is pure; no harm can come to thee. I think not of myself. Listen! There will come a time when thou wilt be free from this thraldom of priestcraft, when that spirit of thine will live on in the Elysian. I will live well and ever love thee, and this is my story to-night. I will love thee as lasting as the sun, wait on for thy emanc.i.p.ation, and meet thee in the spirit-world. When each shall have performed its earth-life, then thy spirit shall be united to mine through the depths of an everlasting life. Wilt thou betroth thyself to me in this wise? No harm can come of this spirit love, and it cannot fail to bless. Saronia of the great unfathomable soul, looking out of those eyes so full of mystic meaning, can this be so? Bind thyself to me! Be mine when death shall sever the silver chain! This is all I ask. I know thou lovest me; those silent tears betray thee, and thy eyes speak love--love filtering through the mystic faith, love that is stronger than death. Speak, Saronia! Dost thou hear me?'

'I do. I hear all.'

'Wilt thou wed me for the next life?'

'What shall I do, Chios? Thou hast discovered my hidden love. I cannot lie. I will meet thee in the great hereafter. I am thine, when my mission here be accomplished--thine through all eternity!'

'Shall I plant a kiss upon thy brow, Saronia, sealing our vows?'

'Dost thou not fear this awful thing?'

'No. I care not for death now. If I go, I will wait for thee and for love; thou wilt not long survive. Methinks our spirits have already been one. If I fall, thou wilt not remain long away. Death will hasten our union.'

Then, taking her head between his hands, he kissed her, and kissed the silver shrine, and moved out into the gloom.

The night pa.s.sed, the day came forth in rosy splendour, such a day as is only experienced in the beautiful Ionian land.

The air was balmy and perfume laden, the winds scarcely stirred the trembling leaves, the birds sang with joyous notes--all Nature smiled.

Chios pa.s.sed through the myrtle garden to his studio, but the brush was powerless in his hand. Last night's adventure was uppermost in his thoughts, as well it might be. It was in his sober moments when judgment reigned, and love lay calmly on his soul, that he became fully aware of what he had done. He leant against a pillar, and reflected upon his position. He had entered into the fight, he had broken the ranks. He was a mariner who must weather the gale on the deck of his craft. There was no escape for him, neither did he desire one.

He, like a master mind, surveyed his position. He had pledged his love to one who could never return it on earth. He would walk alone until his release. Joy in antic.i.p.ation of their reunion was sufficient for him.

True, he felt there was a great disparity in their relative positions--she a mighty priestess, he a sceptic of her faith. But what of that? He believed in Saronia, and she believed in him. Let the faiths go to the winds! If he found not a new G.o.d that he might worship--well, then he would make Saronia the G.o.ddess of his soul, and worship her with a love that would raise the jealousy of the G.o.ds. But if he found the great Spirit who demanded his love and service, then such should have his supreme adoration. But no G.o.d or G.o.ddess spoke to him. Therefore he knew no being superior to Saronia. She was his life; fearful as she was in her mighty incantations, he feared her not. Her mysteries he heeded not, the magic of her being satisfied his craving for union with that which completed the circle of his existence. He had found it in this lovely girl, and he measured this subtle, endless affinity against that which the world calls love, where men take wives for a fragment of time and think not, care not, whether that love continues in the great hereafter, and content themselves with the thought that they may be free when born anew from the womb of death. His love was a sacred love, a pure and perfect one, and he was happy amidst all the mazes of the circ.u.mstances by which he had made it known to Saronia.

CHAPTER XV

AT VENUSTA'S HOUSE

Day after day pa.s.sed, and the friends of Chios were wont to note his thoughtfulness. It did not amount to moroseness; he was preoccupied, and his mind abstracted.

It was while he was in one of his deepest moods that Varro called, accosting the Greek in a pleasant way:

'How fares the world with thee, n.o.ble artist? Thou art in one of thy best humours--or art thou sad?'

'Neither,' replied he.

'Ah! I know: thou art grieving after Nika.'