then?'

'I know not;' and a painful sorrow passed across her brow, but Lucius
saw it not.

The night came down, and beacon fires glared out on every hill and
mountain-top. Coressus and Pion were aflame, great torches whirled and
rushed wildly up and down the mountain-side, and moved in fiery lines
throughout the city streets.

The lamps were lit within, and windows made of richly-coloured glass,
amber, blue, and ruby, shone forth in lovely harmony and glorious hues,
until the myrtle-trees, with their great white blossoms and perfumed
breath, seemed quivering with delight. Merry songs, with laughter and
rippling music, floated on the lazy air. Joy ran riot in the house of
Lucius, and the meanest slave had for a time a share of happiness. The
hours rolled on in pleasure, like a stately ship on a sunny sea.

Down deep in the heart of Nika joy was mockery.

The guests departed, and she retired to her chamber. Throwing herself on
a couch, she wept great tears of anguish, a tide of tears no joy could
stay.

She arose and gazed out into the darkness, and saw the looming of the
great Temple rearing its majestic form in sable gloom, darker than the
night; and she looked into the great unfathomable depths of the skies,
and sighed like the deep moaning of the wind. But the heavens were as
brass, and the great sigh died without becoming a prayer.

Moving back silently to her couch, she lay down, but not to sleep, for
she heard strange sounds arise from the sacred grove, and she knew the
songs of the night came up from the Temple of Hecate.

The morning came, and with it the springs of life revived, and she said:
'Why this sadness? why this harvest of gloom? I will awaken myself, tear
this veil of night from around my spirit. I will lay bare my soul to the
glorious sunlight, drink in its glory until I am saturated with delight.
I will not weep; I will not mourn; I defy this spell; I challenge this
curse--this brand of hell! Oh that it were always day, that the sun
never set, and my mind were as strong as now!' and she flung the great
masses of wavy hair back from her stately forehead, and it fell to the
ground, enshrouding her form till she looked like a goddess on earth.

* * * * *

'Why art thou so late, dear, to thy morning meal?' said Venusta. 'Come,
sit by my side, and tell me what thinkest thou of last night's innocent
revelry? Was it not a right hearty welcome to thy father, most fitt