Saronia Part 17

'Yes.'

'Stay thy speech, then; she is dead to me. I have no desire to hear more of her.'

'But, dreadful Saronia, thou _shalt_ hear _that I have to say_! Thou hast a woman's heart, and will listen as I go on. She has been thine enemy--still is--she lurks in thy pathway. Venusta is as bad, if not worse. Both would singe thy wings, sacred as thou art, and draw thee down to be the sport of Ephesus, nor stay their tongues at any lie.'

'What meanest thou? How knowest thou this?'

'How do I know? Do not slaves leave their homes by stealth and come to the wise woman Endora that she may read their fate? Such is the case.

One night, under cover of darkness, a slave slid from the jewelled home of the Romans, and sought my wretched den. 'Twas then I plucked from out the bosom of the frightened one the secrets of Venusta's house. She overheard her mistress say that all in her power should be done to drag thee down, appealing at the same time for aid from the Roman Proconsul, who has just arrived from Rome to rule Ionia. But--I have more to tell thee. Thou knowest Chios, the Greek?'

'Thou art growing too familiar, Endora.'

'I am aware of it, august lady, but this familiarity is but the outcome of my strong desire to aid thee. I will say my say if cast to death for it. Remember we serve one G.o.ddess. Thou art blessed; I a rebel and cursed. But Hecate is our G.o.ddess. I say thou knowest Chios; I know it to be so, I noted his kindness when thou wert a slave. Rememberest thou the time when, standing without the great theatre, waiting the bidding of the Roman reptile, he came and spoke words of comfort to thee--to thee? And below, in the depths of thy heart, are many cherished windings of the past wherein he lit thee through the briars.'

'Cease, woman: no more of this! I may arise and destroy thee. Darest thou insult the servant of Diana?'

'I insult thee not; I tell the truth, and truth is a rare commodity with me. Thou canst slay me! If I lie, then would I fear, but, speaking the truth, I make thine hands weak and thy wings weary. Once more I say at that time thou lovedst him, and could not help doing so; and this also I a.s.sert: Chios loves Saronia--Chios is content to feed on those memories of the past, and so art thou. Thou art forbidden by thy office to love other than the G.o.ddess, but I tell thee woman must love, and in secret I know thou must keep this love aglow--_eternally_ so--like a vestal flame; and woe, I say, to the woman that crosses thy path to kill this light, to put out this flame! Now, such a being is Nika--Nika, the Roman girl; she attempts it. I have told thee; I have warned thee.'

'Thou talkest madly. What have I to do with Nika or Chios?' And, pointing towards the great Temple, Saronia exclaimed: 'There is the gateway to my only love!'

'No, no, lovely priestess! I am right, and thou must hear me to the end, and then, if thou desirest, may'st destroy me. 'Twas but to-day I stood at the gate of Chios asking charity, when he and Nika came forth. One could see by her face beaming with radiance that words of tenderest meaning clung like flowers of jasmine around her heart, and she bore in her hands richest blossoms of varied hue culled from the garden of Chios. Now, mark well what I am about to say. He loves her not--of this I am certain, but she has drawn him with her subtle wiles and may bind him as a slave--bind him with her web as a spider chains a fly. He is a good man being netted by an artful fowler; a part of their hate for thee would be gratified could they but take Chios in their snare, make him their tool in bringing forth their darkest designs on thee. I warn thee of this treacherous girl and her wolf-like dame. Take heed. Beware, lest Chios and Nika join them for thy destruction.'

'How didst thou know Chios?'

'Have I not told thee I saw him near the great theatre talking to thee when thou worest the robe of golden brown, the badge of slavery?'

'True.'

'Yes, Chios I knew well, but the girl I knew not. And, when they pa.s.sed, she with the golden hair gave me a coin--a coin of gold. I would have blessed her, and commenced--but failed. Even if I had blessed her, my blessings would have been empty words; but even such I could not bestow, for, as I spoke, I looked into her eyes and read her accursed of Hecate.'

'Hush! 'tis fearful!'

'I hurried after to know her name, and saw her enter a sumptuous home on the slope of Coressus, and was told it was Venusta's place, and she who entered Nika, the daughter. I sent the golden disc within, saying I needed it not. I could not take alms from the accursed girl, the young tigress who would have maimed thee--killed thee! This is my story. I go.'

'Hast thou more to say?'

'No, n.o.ble priestess. Let me go. The truth is said. Now I am weak again, and thou couldst crush me as a moth between the fingers, or I might presumptuously fly too near the flaming lamp and be my own destroyer.'

'I cannot let thee go as thou earnest, in poverty. Thou wilt, I am sure, take from my hands these bits of gold in place of that thou sacrificedst for me. They will buy thee food and wine and raiment, and help to give some little joy. Go thy unhappy way. I pity thee, Endora--I pity thee, and I tell thee I will care for myself; but no harm can come to me whilst I follow that which is good.'

Saronia left her, retired to her private chamber, and threw herself down to rest awhile. She believed all the woman had said. She had faith in Chios, but would he be firm amidst the temptations which beset him? Then she arose, and walked to and fro the room like a caged lion. She could not move out and wage warfare; it was an unequal fight. What could she do? For a moment jealousy sat upon the throne of reason, and she became fearful to look upon. Should she, in the might of her fury, blast this girl before her time? Should she pour forth her mystic spells until they consumed her very vitals? No! She would, at any rate, if war must come, battle with her, spirit against spirit, woman against woman. For the present she would wait events.

She wished now she had kept Endora, and bade her bring news from the hum of the busy world. Never mind; she could summon her at will. One thought could fetch her. She was mightier in will than the wise woman, and, as Hecate could summon her priestesses, so Saronia could call the witch.

CHAPTER XIX

THE DAWN OF FAITH

The day had arrived, and Varro and Chios were to meet the priests and priestesses concerning the picture of Saronia. Many eyes were turned upon them until they entered the Temple and were hidden from view.

When the time came for the Roman to approach the High Priest, he addressed him thus:

'Most n.o.ble of the Megalobyzi, most exalted among men, king of priests, High Priest of the great Diana, whose fame extends from Central Rome to Britain in the West, where stands a temple to her name--fame which extends not only from the centre to the West, but back again through the great world until it grasps the lands and islands of the far-off East, we, in all humility, and for the great veneration in which we hold the G.o.ddess, would help to honour the name of her great High Priestess, Saronia, before whom we bow lowly, and salute her first among women, by presenting to this holy shrine a picture truly painted of this n.o.ble virgin, that her goodness and beauty may ever appear before the eyes of the worshippers of her august mistress, Diana Triformis.'

Then replied the chief Megabyzus:

'Have we an artist in Ephesus who could do justice to our n.o.ble queen?'

'We have,' said Varro; 'Chios the Greek. This is he.'

'Good, most esteemed Proconsul, but remember it is enacted that the High Priestess cannot leave the precincts of the Temple to sit for this picture.'

'That we know, and to this end have secured the help of Chios, who knows well the face of great Saronia, and he has almost finished the work.

Wouldst thou, in the name of the G.o.ddess, accept it from my hands?'

'We will, and mayest thou, good artist, prosper in thy work, and consider thyself fortunate that this honour is conferred on thee, the honour of immortalizing the loveliest woman since the time of Helen.'

'Most n.o.ble priest, I am thine humble servant, and reverence thy creed.'

But as Chios raised his eyes to those of Megabyzus, he saw them filled with a strange fire--eyes like those of an evil spirit, gleaming behind the living windows of darkling hue. It was but for a moment, and the priest turned to Saronia, saying:

'Thy consent to us already has been given. Wouldst thou speak to these n.o.ble friends?'

Then the girl, in her beauty and power, addressed the Roman in accents sweet and queenly, thanking him for the gift; and, looking on Chios as if she had never before seen him, said:

'n.o.ble artist of the Ephesian city, when wilt thou scan my features--say when--and in what part of this Temple may I linger that thy efforts may be complete?'

'I purpose to trouble thee but little, mighty priestess. I will come when thou art offering sacrifice at the altar, and gaze on thy splendour afar off. As it has been said, the painting is well-nigh finished. I have beheld thee often when I worshipped here. Thy lineaments are graven on my memory. When word is sent me I will come.'

'Well, it shall be quickly,' said she, adding, with a smile: 'Before my beauty fades, if any there be. Come to-morrow at the hour of sacrifice, and thou wilt see Saronia.'

When they had retired, she meditated within: 'What meaneth this strange proceeding? The affianced of Nika presenting the picture of Saronia to the Temple, and Chios to paint it. There is evil afloat. The stormy petrel skims the waves. I will find from Chios the meaning of this secret work. No good for me can come from the house of Venusta. Be patient, Saronia, and thou shalt learn all. I will contrive to speak with Chios. Out of his heart of love he will tell me all. His eyes looked into mine: his mind was pure and shaped towards me. Good Chios, I trust thee, but I will try thee.'

The next day when he arrived the Temple was full of song--white-robed priests and virgins stood around the altar offering their devotions, whilst the incense-cloud rose upward through the open roof like a morning mist hanging around the mountain.

He was seated in a nook of the Temple where great pillars hid him from view. He heard not the morning song nor saw the incense-cloud ascend; he saw but one object, and that was Saronia, with uplifted eyes filled with radiant mystery, beseeching Heaven, the loose drapery hanging in snowy folds around her form and falling to her feet.

One half-hour, with such intent as Chios had, was worth a lifetime to a meaner man. Every touch of the brush told, and ere the service ended he rested, and gazed pa.s.sionately on her he loved so well.

The song sank down to a whisper and died, burying its harmonies among the mighty marble pillars. Priestesses and priests moved away, leaving Saronia alone at the great altar, looking like the G.o.ddess of the shrine. For a moment she was silent, standing like a statue of Scopas; then she beckoned Chios to come forward, and moved away from the flower-strewn altar to meet him. The eyes of the girl spoke love--softest, tenderest love--but the face of Chios was like the granite rock of Bolerium. He knew he faced the opening through which the priests had pa.s.sed, and feared to smile. Her lips parted, and she said:

'Chios, what brings thee here? There is mystery in it all.'