THE GROVE OF HECATE
The evening sun had set behind great frowning clouds of crimson and
gray; dark masses like funeral steeds moved slowly through the sky. The
night came, dark and dreary; a sable mantle of clouds hung from east to
west like a wall of gloom, and when from noon ten hours had sped Chios
went forth, following the highway to the Temple. He was clad in a mantle
of azure blue, shrouded from head to foot; his most intimate friends
would have passed without knowing him. The Temple was at his right hand,
and he had gained the outskirts of the great forest of pine-trees. He
saw the river Cayster winding towards the sea like a river of death.
He entered the grove; the tall trees shook their mighty foliage, warning
him in accents deep as the voice of judgment. What did he care? Forward
he went. If all the trees of that wood had voices loud as the
thunderings of the gods and spoke to him, he would not stay one step
towards the goal.
No, as he penetrated further his courage grew stronger and his mind
firmer. At last, through the darkness, he saw the wall which surrounded
the Sacred Grove. For a moment he stood still, but to think of the
commands of Endora. Then, with a bound, he was over, and stood on ground
unlawful for him to tread; but what cared he? On he moved carefully, for
fear the rustling shrubs might betray him, until he saw the looming of
the Temple of Hecate. He heard weird sounds issuing forth, and fierce
fires seemed to burn within the sacred shrine of the Infernal Goddess.
Ever and anon from between the pillars of the portico, guarding it like
a flaming sword, there flashed forth bars of light, and mighty
thunderings came bellowing from that most dreadful fane, followed by
shrieks like the cries of drowning men when they founder with their
barque. All was as Endora had said. But Chios heeded nothing. Such he
expected, and was prepared to meet them as a man who had determined to
hazard all; and, passing stealthily by the marble pile, he gained the
footpath at the rear, and followed on; gained the site where stood the
trench and its awful altar of the goddess. Then, for the first time, he
freely drew breath, and sat down at the foot of the statue of Diana
Triformis. Presently he hid behind a wide-spreading tree, and waited for
Saronia.
Several forms like men or women or demons passed by towards the Temple;
he heard their mutterings, but saw not their faces. The time hung
heavily on his hands. 'Twas still half an hour to midnight, and the
waning moon was hid--not a star shone forth to comfort him. The wild
beasts of the grove howled from their distant lair.
Then came a convulsion in the heavens--the gathering storm-clouds spoke
to each other and exchanged lightning glances until the sky was a sea of
fire. Great clouds whirled up from the west, and others bore down from
the east, and they mingled around the moon in one great aerial war until
the heavens were rent asunder, and the east wind gained the mastery,
sweeping the surging war-clouds away to the western sky in the dark-blue
depths. The waning moon shone out with sickly hue, and the diamond stars
sprung forth, and soft clouds moving onwards like dark-stoled virgin
priestesses bowed to the Queen of Heaven.
Chios starts; he shrinks; he sees the glare of torches coming down the
Sacred Way; he counts them as they wildly dance upon the midnight
air--one, two--five--eight. He is undone! She cometh not alone! Towards
him sweeps the fiery line until within a hundred paces it stops, and
forms a circle, seven around, with one uplifted torch within the sacred
zone. The circle breaks and forms two lines and the centre figure passes
between, moving onward to the altar. The others in serpent form move
sinuously back to the Temple of Hecate.
The solitary figure, the haughty torch-bearer, draws nearer, until Chios
sees by the lurid glare the dark masses of hair floating on the wind,
and fancies he sees the mysterious eyes beneath the marble brow. He
could not mistake her--he knew her too well. It was Saronia, the
priestess, arrayed in her priestly robes.
She was standing by the statue of the great goddess with head thrown
back. The flame of the torch like a serpent of fire coiled and uncoiled
like a living thing, and lit up the band of gold which circled her head,
and shone on her mantle of sable hue.
Then, stretching out her hands towards the earth, she addressed the
goddess:
'Hail, Hecate!
Hail, Diana!
Luna, Hail!
Goddess of Heaven, the Earth, and the Underworld.
Thou rollest the heavens around the steady pole.
Thou illuminest the sun.
Thou governest the world.
Thou treadest on the dark realms of Tartarus.
The stars move responsive to thy command.
The gods rejoice in thy divinity.
The hours and the seasons return by thy appointment,
And the elements reverence thy decree.
Hear me, O Moon!
Hear me, great Saviour!
Listen, dread Hecate!
A black lamb I bring thee.'
Then, seizing the lamb, she raised it to the altar and slew it, and the
red blood danced o'er the marble shrine. And taking a golden vase filled
with baneful oblation, she poured it over the victim, at the same time
swinging the torch to and fro above her head, chanting:
'Come forth, thou moon, with propitious light.
Cold, silent goddess! at this witching hour
To thee I'll chant.
* * * * *
Hail, Hecate! prodigious demon, hail!
Come at the last, and make the work prevail,
That the strong brewage may perform its part,
No worse than that was made by Circe's art,
By bold Medea, terrible as fair,
Or Perimedea of the golden hair.'
Then the earth shook, and spiral columns of vapour rose around the
altar, and from each column came a spectre of fire and stood with
outstretched hands.
The priestess placed the resinous wood around the sacrifice, and
applying her torch, the altar was crowned with flame, and the spirits
drew nigh and drank up the odour, dancing in wild fury around the pyre.
Then spoke Saronia:
'Ye wandering spirits, ye starving, lonely shades destined to require
the sustenance ye seldom receive, take this oblation, drink ye in the
nurture as it arises, take it from the great queen goddess through the
hands of her priestess;' and the spirits chanted:
'Hail, Saronia!
Hail, Saronia!
Princess born
And mighty priestess!
Hail, thou minister of Tartarus!
Feeder of the gods-forsaken ones!
Blessings ever be upon thee,
Blessings such as we can give,
Thin and faint as misty vapour,
Tinged with hell and cold damnation;
Yet we bless thee as we may,
For love a spark remains within us,
And we wait for our redemption,
Working out our fearful destiny,
Till those we injured grant release,
And the Mighty All Creative
Pass us to the fields Elysian.'
* * * * *
They disappeared, and Saronia, the fearful priestess, was alone.
Shielding her eyes that she might not look again upon the sacrifice, she
turned to move away.
She had passed but a few steps from the altar when Chios came forth from
his hiding-place and followed her. She heard his steps, and fearing to
look around lest her sacrifice should be incomplete, kept on her way to
the Temple of Hecate.
Chios was soon by her side. She gazed for a moment on his face, and fell
to the ground as dead.
He raised her carefully, bore her to the foot of a great laurel-tree,
and taking his cloak, placed her on it, and bent over her in agony.
'O fool, what hast thou done? Thou hast slain her! O cursed hour! Shades
of night, seize me, take me to your Hades, torture me, but, holy
heavens, restore Saronia! O cruel fate! Most cruel destiny! What cause
is there for this?'
The talisman! the shrine he wore! the gift! He had heard of its wondrous
power. He tore it from his neck, and placed it on her chilly brow.
* * * * *
Her eyes opened, and she essayed to rise.
Chios moved to help her; but, no, she sprang to her feet, and stepping
back from him, looked like a tigress at bay. For a moment words would
not flow at her command, but her eyes burnt into his very soul, and
still she spoke not.
He wished a thousandfold he had never dared to confront her in such a
dreadful place and against such fearful odds. He knew he was observed by
troops of invisible beings thirsting for vengeance, and that one word of
hers would loose them, those hounds of hell, in all their fury. He
feared them not. 'Twas the scathing, burning eyes of the priestess which
withered him--so changed from love to hate.
All those thoughts passed through his mind with the force of a
whirlwind. He felt he had penetrated like a robber within the magic
circle of her power, taking mean advantage of her secret life, betraying
all confidence. What was to be done? He would not pass like a dream--a
horrid dream--to her; that would end all. No, he must finish his work,
whatever might follow. He would speak to her.
'Saronia, forgive me; I am mad. I know not what unknown power compels me
to this wicked act. I could not stay from thee. As the stars vibrate to
each other, so my soul to thine. Speak, Saronia! I have dared death to
see thee, to speak to thee. Answer me, Saronia! Let me hear thy dear,
sweet voice, even if it be a curse thou utterest.'
She stood forth again in all her majesty; her great spirit had gained
supremacy; her eyes shone forth like diamonds wet with dew, and she
said:
'What evil fate brings thee here? Death awaits both if mortal eye
beholds us. For thy many acts of kindness I overlook thy madness. Thou
knowest the way, return quickly, and never intrude thyself again. One
word: thou hast been spectator of the rites and mysteries, hast seen my
power. Understand, I could raise armies, if needs be, to destroy
thee--could blast thee like a tree whose life has passed, by one fell
stroke of lightning. Now away, no more!'
'Saronia! Saronia! Bear with me but for one brief moment! Hear my story,
then I go.'
'Why should I? Thou knowest full well I am dedicated to my faith, to my
goddess. Why tempt me to evil?'
'Saronia, I have striven hard to avoid this, and before to-night have
succeeded. I could no longer bear this worse than death, and have sought
thee here to tell thee I love thee, have ever loved thee, even when thou
wert a slave. I have thrown aside the glamour of the world for one sweet
word from thee.'
'How can I help thy love?'
'Thou canst return it by one sweet smile of pity--pity is the twin
sister of love.'
'I will give thee no encouragement. I swear by the hosts above, around,
and beneath that I repel Chios the lover, and make it known clearly to
thee I stand pure and unsullied before the goddess I have just evoked.
Shame on thee! Thou wouldst shake the strong foundation on which my
spirit rests. Away, I say again, for fear she whom I serve may compel me
to curse thee! Go!'
'Before I say farewell, perchance for ever, is this thy shrine, this
trinket thine?'
'Yes. I sought shelter, not knowing whither. Two statues standing near
the doorway caught my gaze, and through the open door I beheld thy
prostrate form. Thinking death or sickness visited Chios, I entered,
remembering thy goodness. Thou wert asleep and sighing forth my name. I
foolishly placed that little token on thy breast, and the Fates have
worked it well so far as it is concerned, for by its power thou hast
brought back my life--not that my death would have been of great moment,
but thy crime would have been magnified and thy suffering intense.
Little did I think such small pretext as a simple act of gratitude from
me would have brought thee here. Now I have told thee all. Go, for thy
life!'
'No, I will stay. My determination is strengthening, my mission is pure;
no harm can come to thee. I think not of myself. Listen! There will come
a time when thou wilt be free from this thraldom of priestcraft, when
that spirit of thine will live on in the Elysian. I will live well and
ever love thee, and this is my story to-night. I will love thee as
lasting as the sun, wait on for thy emancipation, and meet thee in the
spirit-world. When each shall have performed its earth-life, then thy
spirit shall be united to mine through the depths of an everlasting
life. Wilt thou betroth thyself to me in this wise? No harm can come of
this spirit love, and it cannot fail to bless. Saronia of the great
unfathomable soul, looking out of those eyes so full of mystic meaning,
can this be so? Bind thyself to me! Be mine when death shall sever the
silver chain! This is all I ask. I know thou lovest me; those silent
tears betray thee, and thy eyes speak love--love filtering through the
mystic faith, love that is stronger than death. Speak, Saronia! Dost
thou hear me?'
'I do. I hear all.'
'Wilt thou wed me for the next life?'
'What shall I do, Chios? Thou hast discovered my hidden love. I cannot
lie. I will meet thee in the great hereafter. I am thine, when my
mission here be accomplished--thine through all eternity!'
'Shall I plant a kiss upon thy brow, Saronia, sealing our vows?'
'Dost thou not fear this awful thing?'
'No. I care not for death now. If I go, I will wait for thee and for
love; thou wilt not long survive. Methinks our spirits have already been
one. If I fall, thou wilt not remain long away. Death will hasten our
union.'
Then, taking her head between his hands, he kissed her, and kissed the
silver shrine, and moved out into the gloom.
* * * * *
The night passed, the day came forth in rosy splendour, such a day as is
only experienced in the beautiful Ionian land.
The air was balmy and perfume laden, the winds scarcely stirred the
trembling leaves, the birds sang with joyous notes--all Nature smiled.
Chios passed through the myrtle garden to his studio, but the brush was
powerless in his hand. Last night's adventure was uppermost in his
thoughts, as well it might be. It was in his sober moments when judgment
reigned, and love lay calmly on his soul, that he became fully aware of
what he had done. He leant against a pillar, and reflected upon his
position. He had entered into the fight, he had broken the ranks. He was
a mariner who must weather the gale on the deck of his craft. There was
no escape for him, neither did he desire one.
He, like a master mind, surveyed his position. He had pledged his love
to one who could never return it on earth. He would walk alone until his
release. Joy in anticipation of their reunion was sufficient for him.
True, he felt there was a great disparity in their relative
positions--she a mighty priestess, he a sceptic of her faith. But what
of that? He believed in Saronia, and she believed in him. Let the faiths
go to the winds! If he found not a new god that he might worship--well,
then he would make Saronia the goddess of his soul, and worship her with
a love that would raise the jealousy of the gods. But if he found the
great Spirit who demanded his love and service, then such should have
his supreme adoration. But no god or goddess spoke to him. Therefore he
knew no being superior to Saronia. She was his life; fearful as she was
in her mighty incantations, he feared her not. Her mysteries he heeded
not, the magic of her being satisfied his craving for union with that
which completed the circle of his existence. He had found it in this
lovely girl, and he measured this subtle, endless affinity against that
which the world calls love, where men take wives for a fragment of time
and think not, care not, whether that love continues in the great
hereafter, and content themselves with the thought that they may be free
when born anew from the womb of death. His love was a sacred love, a
pure and perfect one, and he was happy amidst all the mazes of the
circumstances by which he had made it known to Saronia.