Saronia Part 40

'I have a message for thee.'

'From whom didst thou receive it?'

'From the High Priestess, Saronia.'

'What knowest thou of her? Thou mockest me.'

'No, I do not. Read it. Thou wilt see her in every line.'

He eagerly glanced at the message, and turned deadly pale.

'Come within, Endora.'

'Thou knowest my name. How so?'

'It matters little. I know thy name.'

As the old woman moved into the studio, a strange, weird light lit up her cold, sinister face, and she gazed around at the beauties displayed there.

'Sit down and rest. Dost thou know the contents of this message?'

'No.'

'Then I will tell thee. Saronia has trusted thee; I must. She cannot err; her judgment is good, and I abide by it.'

'Ah, ah!' laughed Endora. 'I am safe, n.o.ble Greek. Thou canst trust me.

The High Priestess confides in me; Chios may do the same. Shall I swear?'

'No; but look into my eyes, and tell me thou wilt be true.'

As she gazed into his eyes a shudder pa.s.sed through her, and for an instant she reeled as if drunken. Recovering herself, she said:

'Art thou satisfied?

He made no reply.

Endora cried:

'Speak--speak out straight from thy heart, or I will not receive thy secret!'

'Yes; I can trust thee,' replied Chios. 'Why, I do not know. I am safe in thine hands. Who art thou? What art thou?'

'I? I am a poor castaway, cast aside on the dung-heap like a broken lamp! I am a reptile doomed to crawl the earth like the meanest snake. I am Endora of Ephesus, the witch of Mount Pion! Who art _thou_? What a foolish question, when all know thee to be Chios the Greek, the great artist of this mighty city!... Thou art safe in the hands of Endora.

Thou art son of some mother who cherished thy young life. Hast thou a mother?'

'No.'

'Where is she?'

'Dead.'

'Didst thou ever know her?'

Chios was silent, and his eyes looked far away.

'I have faint remembrance of her; she died when I was quite a child.'

'Didst thou love her?'

'Love her? Yes, pa.s.sionately.'

'Is thy father alive?'

'I never knew him. But enough of this. Sufficient I trust thee in respect of this message. Speak to me on no other subject. It bids me meet the High Priestess to-night near the Sacred Grove, and she requests me to tell thee this and to command thee be there and stand sentinel, to give timely warning if strangers approach.

'Why or how Saronia confides thus in thee 'tis pa.s.sing strange. But it must be right. Thou knowest all now. Go thy way. Do thy part for thy mistress, and I will do mine.'

'I will be there,' replied Endora, 'and, if necessary, die for thee.'

And she went out to the great road beyond the garden gate.

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII

THE DEAD PRIEST

That night, with none to question her, Saronia pa.s.sed out from the Temple towards the Sacred Grove of Hecate.

Arrived there, she offered sacrifice, and left the dying embers blackening the sacred altar. Perchance some priestess next day should secretly want proof of Saronia's visit. This done, she hastened to the meeting-place on the bank of the Cayster, where Chios awaited her, and, like a faithful hound, Endora stood guard a hundred paces off, the only access to the river's brink.

Saronia and Chios were safe. He spoke first.

'Why comest thou here, my love, and such a fearful night? How the winds search through the trees and tangle thy beautiful tresses!

'What hast thou to say? Thou runnest fearful risk. And yonder woman--canst thou really trust her?'

'Yes, trust her fully; she is safe. I have desired to see thee, Chios, and have dared everything. I would know more of this faith,' and her voice sank to a whisper. 'Since thou gavest me the parchment to read my mind ever reverts to the words of fire it contains. I would know their hidden meaning, trace them to their source, and plant them in my heart were I sure they were words of truth. Thou hast a n.o.ble teacher in the man who wrote them. Is it possible, Chios, I may meet him and learn fully? My brain, disorganized, reeling with doubt, will madden me to death. I cannot live without knowing the truth. Tell me, canst thou help me?'

'Saronia, what thou askest is a fearful thing. I wish thee every good, and would pour out my life to serve thee; but hast thou considered--hast thou counted the cost?

'Thou art the High Priestess of the Ephesian faith, steeped in the ways of Hecate, initiated into the mysteries of life and death, respected by thy followers, looked up to as a pattern for all the world to follow.

Hast thou thought of the great sacrifice thou wilt make if perchance thou dost embrace the faith of the despised Nazarene? Consider what will become of thee--what thine end. Thou must fly the Temple, leave its altars, desert thy flock, be pursued until a merciful death blots out the life of the greatest, n.o.blest woman in all Asia! Now, having told thee of this, I am ready to obey; but it shall never enter into thy mind, whatever befall thee, that Chios, who loves thee with a love that Heaven alone can understand, ever drew thee away from a faith which thou hast made thine own to one which perhaps thou mayest not understand.'

'Dearest Chios, I have thought much of this. Many hours have I dwelt on it. I am decided. Saronia will not embrace a new faith until it eclipses the old one. Then, for such a faith, if such there be, Saronia is prepared to die. To gain knowledge of the greatest truth is my mission on earth, and, gaining this, I rise a step nearer the Divine Presence.'