ullen roar of distant thunder broke on her ears, as if the gods were
speaking from the mountains, looming landward past the Temple city.

'Hark! Diana's voice! I will to augury.'

She sped to the window. Naught through the darkness could she see.
Suddenly forked lightning winged its course to the east, another flash
swept nearer by, and the pillars of the great Temple stood out, lit up
with fiery hue. The night-birds flew in wild commotion, shrieking as
they went, crying with a solemn wail.

She stood back. Too well she knew the meaning of those sounds, the
language by which the invisible speaks to the mortal.

A lightning-flash was seen across the Temple door, another line of fire
crossed it from an opposite direction, as if a mighty guardian spirit
stood there with sword aflame. A burst of thunder and a mighty crash,
and she knew the building had been struck with an arrow from heaven.

Her reason pointed a power at work who dared insult the sacred
place--some god greater than Diana warred against her, degrading her
home. This was the augury the priestess drew, and wondered greatly at
the sign. It was a revelation to her--a spark of virgin light, dim as
the faintest dawn. But it shook her faith, and she spread out her hands
as one wandering in the night.

Then she laid herself down in the gloom, and her spirit moved out to
Chios. She longed to speak to him.

Across the open window a shadow passed blacker than the darkness. She
arose and looked out; naught could she see--all was silent. Then a faint
voice like a whisper came from the parapet:

'Saronia, it is Chios!'

And in a moment he was beside her, and, throwing aside his mantle, stood
before her in all his strength.

She was appalled, but knew it would be death to both to utter the
faintest cry, and with horrible calmness the priestess murmured:

'What, by all the gods, brings thee here?'

'Love! Life without seeing, speaking to thee, is worthless--worse than
valueless! I scaled the Parabolus walls, I did the same by yonder
parapet; and, by Jove! were they high as Mount Coressus, I would have
come. I passed the guards, saw the Temple's frowning brow; the lightning
lit my path, and the thundering echoes on the midnight winds were music
to my soul. I gazed towards this resting-place, and, when the heavens
were lit with flame, saw thee standing alone at the window. 'Twas enough
for me. My spirit bounded here long before my body came. Didst thou not
feel