acred slave:

'Summon seven of the Melissae--my bees, my virgin priestesses.'

She said to them:

'Prepare sacrifice for to-night. I offer to Hecate in the Sacred Grove.
Take there a lamb, black as night, and honey of the rarest kind bear ye.
Let the slaves dig a new pit, and place an altar therein, that all may
be ready when I come. I leave the Temple gate when the watch tells out
the hour before midnight. Merina and Smyrna shall accompany me to the
confines of the grove.'

* * * * *

That night Chios quietly stole along under the stars until the old road
to Smyrna intersected his path; but he did not swerve from his course
until he reached the Cayster. Following its sinuous banks, disturbing
the wild-fowl as he went, and treading on a carpeting of sweet-scented
night-flowers, he soon reached the bend of the river which laved the
grove.

There he rested on a block of white marble, brought to be set up as a
memorial.

He gazed over the dark and silent stream. He arose, and paced to and
fro. Not a sound was heard, save his own footfall and the nightingale's
song.

He did not wait long ere he saw the form of a woman moving towards him.

Stealthily she came.

His heart danced with joy, for well he knew who it was.

'I am here,' cried Saronia.

'Noble girl!' replied Chios, as he kissed her.

'Art thou not fearful of this meeting?' said she.

'No,' replied the Greek. 'I have been told that love which would not
dare death is not worthy the name of love.'

'It is death to both if discovered.'

'So much the better,' said he. 'We should then be for ever free.'

'Dost thou guess my mission to thee, Chios?'

'Partly.'

'Well, let me tell thee. I would hear more of the story--more of whom I
am.'

'Darling girl, would I could tell thee! I know no more. I have told thee
all.'

'Yet, I know more.'

'How?'

'By the power of divination.'

'And what hast thou gained by thy magic?'

'This: she whom thou spoke of is no other than my own mother. Further,
she died unknown, uncared for, calling on the name of the Jewish
Christ.'

Chios gasped for breath, and started back as if stung by a serpent,
exclaiming, with bated breath:

'The Jewish Christ! Can it be true?'

'As true as the morning sun shall rise. I know it true, and judge it
passing strange. How such a faith grew in her I know not. The mysteries
of this creed I cannot understand, although it grows apace in Ephesus;