THE DEAD PRIEST
That night, with none to question her, Saronia passed out from the
Temple towards the Sacred Grove of Hecate.
Arrived there, she offered sacrifice, and left the dying embers
blackening the sacred altar. Perchance some priestess next day should
secretly want proof of Saronia's visit. This done, she hastened to the
meeting-place on the bank of the Cayster, where Chios awaited her, and,
like a faithful hound, Endora stood guard a hundred paces off, the only
access to the river's brink.
Saronia and Chios were safe. He spoke first.
'Why comest thou here, my love, and such a fearful night? How the winds
search through the trees and tangle thy beautiful tresses!
'What hast thou to say? Thou runnest fearful risk. And yonder
woman--canst thou really trust her?'
'Yes, trust her fully; she is safe. I have desired to see thee, Chios,
and have dared everything. I would know more of this faith,' and her
voice sank to a whisper. 'Since thou gavest me the parchment to read my
mind ever reverts to the words of fire it contains. I would know their
hidden meaning, trace them to their source, and plant them in my heart
were I sure they were words of truth. Thou hast a noble teacher in the
man who wrote them. Is it possible, Chios, I may meet him and learn
fully? My brain, disorganized, reeling with doubt, will madden me to
death. I cannot live without knowing the truth. Tell me, canst thou help
me?'
'Saronia, what thou askest is a fearful thing. I wish thee every good,
and would pour out my life to serve thee; but hast thou considered--hast
thou counted the cost?
'Thou art the High Priestess of the Ephesian faith, steeped in the ways
of Hecate, initiated into the mysteries of life and death, respected by
thy followers, looked up to as a pattern for all the world to follow.
Hast thou thought of the great sacrifice thou wilt make if perchance
thou dost embrace the faith of the despised Nazarene? Consider what will
become of thee--what thine end. Thou must fly the Temple, leave its
altars, desert thy flock, be pursued until a merciful death blots out
the life of the greatest, noblest woman in all Asia! Now, having told
thee of this, I am ready to obey; but it shall never enter into thy
mind, whatever befall thee, that Chios, who loves thee with a love that
Heaven alone can understand, ever drew thee away from a faith which thou
hast made thine own to one which perhaps thou mayest not understand.'
'Dearest Chios, I have thought much of this. Many hours have I dwelt on
it. I am decided. Saronia will not embrace a new faith until it eclipses
the old one. Then, for such a faith, if such there be, Saronia is
prepared to die. To gain knowledge of the greatest truth is my mission
on earth, and, gaining this, I rise a step nearer the Divine Presence.'
'Thou shalt meet Judah. When wilt thou come?'
'Not too soon, lest suspicion arise. Say, let one week pass, and I will
be where thou wilt.'
'Then we meet on the side of Mount Pion at the cave of Endora.'
'Good; it shall be so, Chios.'
'Now let us go. I will see thee into the road leading to the Temple.
Fear not detection. The night forbodes a gale. Already the winds whistle
through the reeds, and the nodding trees answer to the outriders of the
tempest.'
Suddenly a shriek went up, and was borne on the winds of night.
'What is that?' whispered Saronia. ''Tis like the cry of a parting
life.'
'List!' said Chios. ''Tis some bird of evil shrieking the advent of
storm.'
They had not long to wait ere another shriek, more deadly than the
first, rose up towards the skies.
'Hide thee between the rushes, Saronia. I will see what it means. Stay
until I return, whate'er betides.'
The priestess did as she was bidden, and Chios stole softly down the
pathway until he saw Endora--the black form of the witch surrounded by
the night--and at her feet lay the lifeless form of a man.
For a moment the Greek was terror-stricken, and when his breath had
returned he gasped:
'Endora! Endora! what meaneth this?'
'I slew him,' replied she.
'Thou?'
'Yes, I slew him. See, my dagger reeks with blood!' and she held it
aloft, pointing it upwards towards the heaven, looking like the statue
of a night-fiend.
Then she spoke again:
'Had he a thousand lives, and my arm would not prove weary, I would take
them all. Hear me, Chios: I stood guard for thee and Saronia. This dead
man tracked her--knew her.'
'Knew her?' repeated Chios.
'Yes, recognised her--and thou. He came, as I have said, and was
well-nigh upon you, when the form of Endora stood in the path. He spoke
to me; he had lost the scent, did not know which way you had taken--this
path or the one that branches off. He asked if I had seen a woman go
this way towards the river. I answered "No." "Thou liest!" said he.
"Thou knowest her whereabouts; thou knowest who she is--Saronia, the
High Priestess, and Chios her lover. Speak out, hag, or I will wrest thy
life from out thy vile carcase! Where is she?" Then said I: "Go thy way,
man! I know not, and care less." He seized me by the throat, relaxed his
hold, bade me speak, gripped it again, bruised me until I felt my life
gurgling away. I knew I was not fit to die, and he--_he should not
murder me_! He held me by the throat at arms' length, and shook me like
a dog; but when he drew me towards him, I used my dagger and let out his
life's blood--yes, the life-blood of a traitor!' And, turning her head
from Chios, she murmured: 'The life-blood of--thy--father!'
'Endora! Endora! what hast thou done?'
'Nothing but saved my life and thine and that of the great Saronia, by
killing a brute who would have had no mercy had he succeeded. I should
have died, thou also, or both banished, and Saronia would have been in
the power of this man, who had a passion for her.'
'He?'
'Yes, he.'
Chios stooped down, gently drawing back the mantle which had fallen over
the dead man's face, when, to his horror, he discovered who the murdered
man was.
Standing erect, he looked into the eyes of Endora.
'Woman, thou hast committed a frightful deed! Thou hast slain the High
Priest of the Temple of Diana!'
She stood motionless, silent. Then, raising herself to her full height,
she said:
'Chios, this may bring me death;' and she uttered a moan like the
sighing of the doomed. 'Take thy dagger, plunge it into my heart! Do not
let them torture me! Death from thine hand I would receive as a kiss of
love! As for the death of this man, I repent not. I knew him well
before I slew. Were he a god, and I could kill, I would have done so!'
What was to be done? The first impulse of Chios was to call Saronia and
tell her all. No; he dared not. She must be free from knowledge of the
thing.
He took the dead body and drew it on one side, that Saronia might not
perceive it.
Then, ordering Endora home, he went back to the priestess.
'What ails thee, Chios? Thou art agitated. Has aught occurred?'
'No; it must have been the wild bird's shriek. No being was about save
Endora. Let us move away.'
And they walked up the pathway past the corpse, and as she passed she
shuddered.
'Art thou cold, Saronia?'
'No; but by some strange intuition I feel the presence of the dead.'
'Banish the thought!' said he. ''Tis but the moaning winds which play
upon thy soul.'
'Where is Endora, Chios?'
'Gone; I sent her home.'
They arrived at the confines of the grove through which Saronia must
pass.
'One kiss, my love,' said the Greek--'one kiss from those sweet lips,
and I go to feed upon the memories of Saronia. Do not forget next week
at the home of Endora, on the Mountain of Pion. Good-night,
dearest--good-night!'
She passed through the Sacred Grove, took with her her implements of
sacrifice, and went within the walls which surrounded the Temple. Great
gusts of wind came roaring through the pine-trees of the grove, rushed
onwards, striking the sacred pile, shrieking and crying with
many-sounding voices around the marble pillars, until the mighty Temple
was as a great harp on which the storm-winds played a solemn requiem for
the dead priest.