as 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 passionately 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 goddess 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 passed, and feared to smile. Her lips parted, and she said:

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

'Thou hast truly said. I have a mission to speak for Nika. My words must
necessarily be few and to the point. She pines with the weight of the
curse of Hecate, and asks thy intercession.'

'Ah! I see through it all. Nika, the torturer, the serpent, would rob
Saronia, and thou, half-hearted, art tottering on thy throne.'

'No, Saronia. Hear me!'

'I will _not_. Listen thou to me. If this curse were removed, thou
wouldst marry her. She knows thou never wilt whilst it remains. I have
not power to undo what my goddess binds. Had I, Saronia would _never_ be
the one to feather an arrow for Nika. No, no; go thy way! Choose ye whom
ye will love. I will never force thee to love me, neither will I help
thee to love another. Farewell!' and, turning sharply, she went, and as
she passed away turned again, and gave one look of love, so tenderly
that the great tears swept down the cheeks of Chios. She saw them, and
read his answering love.

* * * * *

He was alone. The Temple, with all its grandeur, w