Resting himself beside her on a couch o'erlaid with gold, he said:

'Canst bear surprise?'

'I think so.'

'Then hear;' and, whispering softly, he said: 'One day there came a man, a minstrel, to my home; sad as the waves telling story of storm were the strains of his song, and sweet as the clear running brook were the sounds from his lyre. He sang of a far-away land. Hast thou heard of the lonely West, where the isles of the Britons lie circled in purple mists?'

'Yes.'

'He sang of a princess priestess who stood at the shrine of their G.o.ds.

He spoke of a Roman who came to that land and stole the pure heart and the hand of this beautiful girl, and bore her away to the Cyclades, and, further away, to the Tyrian Seas, to a resting-place in Sidon.'

'And what became of her, Chios?'

'Thou shalt hear. Their wedded life was brief. The Roman forsook her.

She died of a broken heart, and her babe survived.'

'How sad!' said Saronia.

'Wouldst thou know the name of the British girl?'

'I would.'

''Twas Saronia.'

'Saronia!' gasped the priestess, and, uttering a piercing shriek, she fell back into the arms of Chios.

He heard footsteps approaching. He knew he must fly. Then, laying her on a couch, he kissed her lovingly, saying:

'We must part, but will meet again. Saronia, dost hear me? I will see thee at the Temple service: an oleander in thy bosom, I come to thee; a myrtle flower, thou comest to me. Farewell, loved one!'

And he plunged into the darkness, and the thunders roared as if the heavens would rend themselves in twain.

The priestess nerved herself and reclined listlessly. When the attendant priestesses entered, she was pale as the white silk enfolding her form.

'What ails the n.o.ble lady?' said the foremost of the beautiful maidens.

'It has pa.s.sed,' said Saronia. 'Summon the guard; bid them go to the Temple and bring me word if disaster has fallen and smitten it. Hear ye the mighty voices of the G.o.ds! See the quivering messengers of fire!

Haste away and bring me news!'

Then, falling into one of her mysterious reveries, from which no priestess dared disturb her, they noiselessly glided from the room one by one, each bearing a lamp of gold, and Saronia was left alone.

Soon the priestesses returned, with blanched cheeks, saying:

'Lady of Diana, at thy bidding the priests, with escort, entered the sacred edifice, and discovered through the roof the fated bolt had flown, wrecked the altar, and rent the veil; but the statue of the great G.o.ddess remains unscathed. The watchmen are dead, blackened corpses. The High Priest, chief of the Megalobyzi, has gone to the Temple. What shall we do?'

For a moment the mighty priestess was lost in thought--'twas but for a moment; then she raised herself and regained sublime dignity, saying:

'Altar and veil, the work of men's hands, are resistless as man to their fate; but the image of she who is highest in heaven and strongest in h.e.l.l is safe from the lightnings, the storm, and the warrings of all the invisible hosts which encircle us. And we, her own children, are safe in her keeping--safe in the shade of Diana Triformis. Pour out your prayers, let them rise to the heavens and spread round your homestead and down to the underworlds. Pour out oblations! Chant forth your praise-hymns for mercy on mercy rolling forth like the surging of mightiest billows! Farewell, maidens of the G.o.ddess, farewell!'

Saronia that night was sleepless. She had again saved the life of Chios.

She had dissembled. To have done otherwise would have been to be the murderess of Chios. Thus thought she.

By the light of the dimly burning lamp she looked like a tigress at bay.

Great clouds flitted sullenly across her face, and her eyes were dark as the night, and darker they grew till the shadows which fell on her were as light to them.

The lamp burned low, but she heeded not. Its dying flame pleased her, and the shadows grew deeper, until her form sank into the darkness.

A great war raged within her. It was a battle-ground on which were arrayed spirits, good and evil, fighting for the citadel of her soul.

The light from her mistress G.o.ddess was hidden, and reason cold as snow sat enthroned upon that lofty mind.

Her duty was to serve as heretofore, but lurking love rose up in mighty flame enveloping her. She could see Chios only, feel the pressure of his lips, hear the sound of his voice speaking of love, of the minstrel and of the bride of Britain.

'Who was that mysterious woman named Saronia?

'What caused that strange suspicion and the piercing cry? None other than that by some peculiar affinity I realized that it was she that bore me into this world.

'Oh that I could have heard the end of the story! Cruel destiny shattered me at the harbour mouth, and I lie stranded a lonely wreck on a bleak sh.o.r.e and tainted with rebellion. Shall I fail now? No; Saronia shall build another self out of the shattered parts. I will arise, shake the stupor from me, stretch out my arms into the darkness. I will robe for divination,' and pointing her finger towards the dead lamp, it sprang into flame, casting a glare around the room.

She arose, cast aside her snowy dress of whitened silk, draped herself in darkest shade, girt her waist with a diamond zone black as night, over her shoulders a mantle hung--a mantle of sable hue studded with stars of silver and gold. On her breast she wore the Ephesian symbols of Air and Water, Earth and Life, and Death. Her eyes shot glances like serpents at war, her bosom was upheaved with the strongest emotion, and she moved to the place where the burning lamp stood, seized it, and stood by an altar raised to the G.o.ddess of Hades.

For a moment only was she motionless; then she raised high aloft her jewelled hands, brought them to her lips, kissed them to the Queen of Heaven, and stretched them earthwards to the underworld--to Hecate, the Queen of h.e.l.l. Her head lay back; her eyes shone out with mystic sheen; her raven tresses trailed the floor; her gloomy garments lay in graceful folds, dark as the midnight sky without a star or moon, and standing thus, she invoked the G.o.ddess Hecate.

This done, she lit the altar's sacred fire, and incense burnt until the room was filled with odour and the light from the golden lamp grew dim.

Her lips parted, and a silvery voice issued, murmuring softly:

Spirits of the mighty ocean, Ye who lie beneath the waters, Down--down--fathoms deep!

Ye who roam 'twixt here and Sidon, Ye who lure the ships to ruin, Ye who haunt the fated vessel, Lighting up her masts and cordage With your quenchless tongues of fire; Stormy petrels of the sea-foam, Swiftest of your countless legions, Appear! Appear!

'Ye are come! Hear me!

'A Roman bore from Britons' land, stole from thence with artful wiles, a maiden blessed with rarest beauty--cheeks of olive, raven hair, eyes of darkest midnight hue, soul as pure as the morning light. He took her to Sidon. He left her--he left her and her child. Troop your way with speed to Sidon. Solve the story which I tell you. Bring me answer from Phoenicia.'

The spirits of the deep bent low their shadowy forms; one by one quickly s.n.a.t.c.hed a grain of burning incense from the altar fire, placed the sparks upon their awful brows, rose together, met the storm-wind howling fiercely, pa.s.sed it faster than conception, skimmed the foaming crests of billows, swooped again o'er struggling biremes with their crews of doomed seamen. Flew they on with awful swiftness, till the air waves left behind them wound the earth in many circles, till the silent city Sidon slept beneath their hovering pinions; glanced their message to the spirit--Spirit Prince of Ashtoreth. Gained their answer, sailed they westward to Ionia, faster than the coming day-dawn; stood before the great Saronia; hailed her priestess of Diana; whispered forth with frightful meaning:

'Thou thyself, from her begotten, standest first amongst all women. She, thy mother, princess, priestess, died uncared for, unbeloved--died a rebel to our G.o.ddess, worshipping the Jewish Christ--name we scarcely dare to mention.'

Saronia beckoned them away, and when they had fled a tremor seized her; she staggered to a seat, muttering:

'I, also, am a rebel, and worship Eros.'

Starting to her feet, she said:

'Who is this Christ?'

Stretching her arms out into the darkness, she cried: