Daphne’s first thought was, that the hour of her destruction had come at last. She clung to her dagger, and in the presence of actual danger her courage was restored to the full.

Her face was pale, but her eyes flashed.

She looked at Thoth, expecting him to utter her doom, but he stood silently with his eyes fixed on the ground, apparently in deep thought.

How long they remained thus she could never tell,—whether moments or hours. Time was effaced, and she and this man were all that was left in the universe.

At last Daphne broke the silence.

“What is my fate? Wilt thou keep to thy first promise or thy last threat?”

Then Thoth raised his eyes and filled her heart with wonder. A thrill of fearful pleasure passed through her frame as she thought she saw in his regard no trace of hatred or cruelty, but the overpowering love of a strong nature.

She was not left long in suspense, for Thoth said to her, with a trembling voice—

“Daphne, I love thee as never yet man loved woman. Against my will, against my belief, in a moment, love has seized me—love as strong and irrevocable as death that, too, comes in a moment.”

Then he advanced towards her, and seizing her hand, kissed it passionately. He tried to embrace her, but she drew back, afraid. The change in the man was too sudden and unexpected. She knew not what to think. Delight was mingled with distrust, and she knew not which would gain the victory. His kisses inflamed her heart, but the horror of the past was too recent to be altogether forgotten.

She longed to be alone, and yet, at the same time, she wished to ask Thoth a multitude of questions. She wished to know his whole nature, and as yet she was afraid to give him her finger-tip. Overpowered by the conflict of emotions, she sank down on the couch, and listened to Thoth as if in a dream.

Thoth respected her diffidence, and for a time reason again seemed to take command of his nature, and he spoke calmly even of his new-born passion. The words of love which she had spoken to him, and which, at first, had made no impression, had, he related, as soon as he left her, begun to recur to him as if she were still present.

He was quite frank. He told her that he had ordered her imprisonment, and had even tried to think of the details of her punishment; but in spite of his strongest efforts, whenever he thought of her he recalled her passionate appeal of love. At first he was astonished and bewildered—the whole affair seemed to him incredible and ridiculous. But the memory of her grasp made his hand burn, and her beautiful face chased away every thought. Then came her message, and he felt drawn by an irresistible force to see her. It seemed to him as if hitherto he had lived in a dream, and had only just awaked to the reality of life.

Again and again he described to her the revolution in his nature,—by endless comparisons sought to show her how sudden and complete it had been. His love was the sun banishing night, and hiding the stars from the cold contemplation of the astronomer. It was the sudden rebound of a tall young palm which had been bent to the earth with thongs. It was a storm of burning sand, effacing alike the road before and behind. It was the cleaving by an earthquake of the solid ground, swallowing up in a moment man’s handiwork for ages. It was the tree which blossomed once in a thousand years, the first flight of a bird released from captivity, the first living prey of the young lion.

Then after he had exhausted language and imagination in portraying the degree and violence of his passion, the natural bent of his mind made him seek for an explanation which would make the unreasonable reasonable, and the ludicrous full of dignity and pathos. He proved to Daphne that life is not truly in the individual but in the race: his race was a giant whose nature had been distorted for a long period, and then suddenly had asserted its strength. The loveless lives of his predecessors had, by a necessary reaction, made him capable of an infinite depth of passion. Love, instead of being stamped out and crushed, as the first Thoth had supposed, had only been stored up from generation to generation. It was a transcendent passion, which did not obey the ordinary laws of life and descent. It was part of the very nature of life, and could only be destroyed by death. Besides this, his mother was by birth a child of the instincts and passions common to the races of mankind.

The search for reasons brought back Thoth, as far as was possible, to his former calmness of demeanour, and he began to talk of the future. He assumed all the time that the declaration of his passion was all that Daphne had required of him, and she had been too much overcome by surprise to interrupt the torrent of his eloquence.

When, however, he spoke in a definite manner of their union in a short time, she was driven to take up an attitude of defence. Much as Thoth had advanced in her esteem, she could not at once respond to his passion, and she was troubled by painful reminiscences. She said to him—

“Tell me one thing in all sincerity. Wilt thou still, if I wish it, send me back to Greece?”

His face became gloomy, but he answered at once—

“I swear it.”

“Even if I do not love thee?”

“Even so.”

“And if I wish it, thou wilt never trouble me again?”

“Never.”

“And thou wilt tell me everything, and explain every mystery in this place?”

“Everything; but, Daphne, judge not hastily and harshly. For I will change every law and custom that is to thee displeasing. With thy love,” he continued, in a vein of enthusiasm, “I shall be greater in every way than my great ancestor. He has impressed his will on this race for hundreds of years, and I will impress mine for thousands, and thy will shall be mine. Thou shalt be queen of the whole world, and the lives of the races of men shall be fashioned by thee. No goddess was ever fated to have such might as my love shall give thee for a dower.”

Thoth seemed completely transformed, and his whole being was tremulous with passion. Daphne felt her power of resistance failing, as the strength of a mortal fails before the desire of some deity. Thoth became to her the perfect embodiment of manhood and of love.

She rose from her seat, and drew nearer to him.

She looked through his eyes, and the depth of his devotion seemed unfathomable. She could doubt no longer.

She raised her face to his, and he covered it with kisses.

Then he whispered to her, “Tell me what more I must do or promise. Must love such as ours await some ceremonial for its fulfilment? This is to me the beginning of life. Choose thou for us what form the marriage-rites shall take, for I, alas! know nothing.”

At once the spell was broken, for Daphne remembered the horrible unions which the haters of women had hitherto made. She shrank from Thoth, and cried—

“Leave me! leave me! How can I forget that the women of thy race have been wooed with torture, and that thou thyself in all likelihood hast gone through rites of ingenious cruelty. I cannot believe in a future that rests on such a past.”

But Thoth rejoined with passionate eagerness, and with every sign of truth, “Believe me, Daphne, I myself ordained none of these things.”

“But,” she said, “thou hast permitted these terrible customs to live, and thy fellow-rulers have been guilty.”

“Canst thou not,” he replied, “separate the past from the future? I, at least, have not offended, in this manner.”

But Daphne made no response, and Thoth continued—

“Every one who has thus done shall be punished in any way thou mayest choose—if thou wilt, with death.”

“Nay,” she said, “I will be guilty of no man’s death.”

“Then,” said Thoth, “I will change their natures, as mine has been changed. Wilt thou be mine if, in a full assembly of our ruling race, thou art chosen as the honoured queen of the new era?”

Daphne remained silent, and Thoth said abruptly—

“I must give thee time for reflection. I know that I shall never change. In seven days I will come for thy answer.”

He saluted her with reverence, and departed.