revoke it.'

'As I thought. She would not stir as much as the quiver of a leaf to aid
me; she hates me. Nevertheless, I am no worse by thy asking, rather
better, for a fresh knowledge springs into my mind, whispering I was
mistaken. Now I know she loves thee not, or would have granted thy
request, Chios. No, there is no love in that great dark spirit. She has
no counterpart, no affinity, and must move for ever feeding on herself;
and thou, Chios, must see all this as well as I, and own if there were a
love in thee for her it is a hopeless one, never to be returned.'

A deep gloom clouded that lovely face, plunging her into deepest
thought. Suddenly recollecting herself, she said:

'What answer makest thou?'

Chios looked into Nika's eyes.

'The feud between thee and the priestess I may not judge, but Saronia is
not a being who may revolve in an orbit moving in her eternal circle
through the ages without passing the path of a kindred soul whom she may
love. She will find her counterpart, and love as intensely as her mind
is great and her faith strong. Thou knowest, girl, I would not for
unnumbered worlds willingly cause thee a sting of heart--I never have;
but I am compelled to speak as I have in vindication of Saronia.'

'Thou ever didst it; it is no new phase.'

'No; and it must remain so until this clay of mine is strewn to the
winds, and after that, when my spirit is free to breathe the softer air
of the summer land, even then would I vindicate her, if a myriad demons,
dark and hellish, stood forth in fierce array to damn her!'

'Oh, Chios, where hast thou learned to speak like this? It is so much
like her that, if I knew thee less, I should count thee her affinity.
Thy look is terrible. Calm thee, my noble brother, for more thou art to
me--calm thee, Chios; I fear thee for the first time. Thou wilt not also
curse me. Look at me! pity me! I have bared my very soul to thee. Spurn
me not. Thy look tells me thou art on the verge of doing so. Let me
cling a little to thee, Chios dear. Help Nika. Cheer her, if with only
one tender look. I have somewhat learned to bear the curse of Hecate,
the curse of loving thee without return of love, but can barely carry
it, and often fall. If thou shouldst put out thy spark of coldest
charity and leave me in darkness, Nika will fade and die.'

'Cease, foolish maid! why speakest thou thus to me? It is not fair to
the Roman to whom thou art betrothed.'

'I know it all. What c