As they passed the gateway, Endora, the witch, stood by and gazed at the girl and Chios. The maiden pitied her, and gave her a coin of gold. The old woman looked up, first at Chios; then, turning to Nika, said:

'May the choicest flowers of life ever strew thy pathway, fair lady, and may the goddess—— But stay, I cannot bless thee. I have no power to do so. Would that I could!'

As they passed away, she muttered:

'I cannot even try to bless her; she is accursed of Hecate—I read it too well. Ah, ah, ah! She is like unto me: both are outcasts; she in the heyday of youth and flowing over with wealth, I an old hag and poor as a barren rock, save for this bit of gold. The goddess is no respecter of persons. What can be the sin of this golden-haired beauty? Mine I know. I will unravel hers. Where does she go, I wonder? And with Chios? And he gave her the richest flowers. I will follow far behind. My sight is keen. I will know where she perches.'

So Endora followed, and saw them enter the house of Venusta. The witch accosted a little child.

'Knowest thou the lady of this dwelling, innocent one? I am seeking alms, and would know her name.'

'The lady of the house?' replied the girl.

'Yes, of this one,' pointing with her finger. 'This house,' and she pierced through the eye of the child, who started back with dread. 'Tell me, quickly, who resides within.'

'Venusta, wife of Lucius, the Roman sailor.'

'And who was that fair maid who passed in with the noble Greek?'

'That was Nika, her daughter.'

Endora moved off, murmuring, 'Nika! Nika!' A sudden frenzy seized her; her eyes glared out like spots of fire.

'Nika, is it? Ah, I know her pride! She hunted the chosen of Hecate, and now she loves without being beloved, and the curse is strong upon her. She has her reward. Starving am I, and this coin would buy food; but I will never use it. No, back it shall go to the giver! The flying slave, starting eyes, haunted look, speak to me. I helped to save, encourage Saronia. I will never fatten on the alms of her enemy! No, no; outcast as thou art, poor soul of mine, I will not taint thee further by accepting such as this.'

So she went back to the girl to whom she had spoken, and said:

'Take thou this golden coin to the slave who stands in yonder vestibule and say it belongs to Mistress Nika, that she gave it to a woman at the gate of Chios, and that the woman has no use for it. Now go, quickly, and perhaps she may reward thee. I would, but have none to give.'

For very fear the child took the money within, and the witch Endora passed on her way.

As the woman went by the Temple, a company of priestesses passed the outer walls and made for the grand entrance. She hurried forward and overtook them, singling out a striking form, one whom she could not mistake, and, rushing to the front, fell prostrate at her feet, crying:

'Mercy, lady, mercy; hear me! Do not turn aside. Rather would I ye should use me to clean the dust from off thy sandals ere ye enter the sacred courts.'

'What hast thou to say?'

'Mighty priestess, thou art Saronia.'

'I am.'

'Did I not tell thee, noble lady, thy star rode upwards in the Eastern sky? and now its light so strong, so splendid, beats upon thee, that thou art like a silver moon among the stars. Hear me, great priestess, I implore thee. Think of Endora, vile and steeped in iniquity. Pray for me that I may be forgiven—pray for me!'

And with a cry she fell to the ground.

'Take her within,' said Saronia, 'and see that she be cared for. I will follow.'

Then they raised her, and the poor thing staggered through the great court.

The priestess was soon at the side of the wretched woman, and two attendants ministered to her wants. When she revived, Saronia dismissed the girls, saying:

'Alone I will listen to this tale of grief.'

When they had departed, she took Endora's hand in hers.

'Art thou better? Say on thy story.'

'I am base, worse than thou dreamest. True, I was weak, faint for want of food; but I am not penitent. I have no desire to be forgiven. Deeper sunk is my soul by this pretending, this false asking pardon through thy intercession with the goddess. No, no, no; my spirit is too dark, too damned for cleansing! I have another motive.'

'Vile woman, what dost thou mean?'

'I come to tell thee of Nika.'

'Nika? Nika of Lucius?'

'Yes.'

'Stay thy speech, then; she is dead to me. I have no desire to hear more of her.'

'But, dreadful Saronia, thou shalt hear that I have to say! Thou hast a woman's heart, and will listen as I go on. She has been thine enemy—still is—she lurks in thy pathway. Venusta is as bad, if not worse. Both would singe thy wings, sacred as thou art, and draw thee down to be the sport of Ephesus, nor stay their tongues at any lie.'

'What meanest thou? How knowest thou this?'

'How do I know? Do not slaves leave their homes by stealth and come to the wise woman Endora that she may read their fate? Such is the case. One night, under cover of darkness, a slave slid from the jewelled home of the Romans, and sought my wretched den. 'Twas then I plucked from out the bosom of the frightened one the secrets of Venusta's house. She overheard her mistress say that all in her power should be done to drag thee down, appealing at the same time for aid from the Roman Proconsul, who has just arrived from Rome to rule Ionia. But—I have more to tell thee. Thou knowest Chios, the Greek?'

'Thou art growing too familiar, Endora.'

'I am aware of it, august lady, but this familiarity is but the outcome of my strong desire to aid thee. I will say my say if cast to death for it. Remember we serve one goddess. Thou art blessed; I a rebel and cursed. But Hecate is our goddess. I say thou knowest Chios; I know it to be so, I noted his kindness when thou wert a slave. Rememberest thou the time when, standing without the great theatre, waiting the bidding of the Roman reptile, he came and spoke words of comfort to thee—to thee? And below, in the depths of thy heart, are many cherished windings of the past wherein he lit thee through the briars.'

'Cease, woman: no more of this! I may arise and destroy thee. Darest thou insult the servant of Diana?'

'I insult thee not; I tell the truth, and truth is a rare commodity with me. Thou canst slay me! If I lie, then would I fear, but, speaking the truth, I make thine hands weak and thy wings weary. Once more I say at that time thou lovedst him, and could not help doing so; and this also I assert: Chios loves Saronia—Chios is content to feed on those memories of the past, and so art thou. Thou art forbidden by thy office to love other than the goddess, but I tell thee woman must love, and in secret I know thou must keep this love aglow—eternally so—like a vestal flame; and woe, I say, to the woman that crosses thy path to kill this light, to put out this flame! Now, such a being is Nika—Nika, the Roman girl; she attempts it. I have told thee; I have warned thee.'

'Thou talkest madly. What have I to do with Nika or Chios?' And, pointing towards the great Temple, Saronia exclaimed: 'There is the gateway to my only love!'

'No, no, lovely priestess! I am right, and thou must hear me to the end, and then, if thou desirest, may'st destroy me. 'Twas but to-day I stood at the gate of Chios asking charity, when he and Nika came forth. One could see by her face beaming with radiance that words of tenderest meaning clung like flowers of jasmine around her heart, and she bore in her hands richest blossoms of varied hue culled from the garden of Chios. Now, mark well what I am about to say. He loves her not—of this I am certain, but she has drawn him with her subtle wiles and may bind him as a slave—bind him with her web as a spider chains a fly. He is a good man being netted by an artful fowler; a part of their hate for thee would be gratified could they but take Chios in their snare, make him their tool in bringing forth their darkest designs on thee. I warn thee of this treacherous girl and her wolf-like dame. Take heed. Beware, lest Chios and Nika join them for thy destruction.'

'How didst thou know Chios?'

'Have I not told thee I saw him near the great theatre talking to thee when thou worest the robe of golden brown, the badge of slavery?'

'True.'

'Yes, Chios I knew well, but the girl I knew not. And, when they passed, she with the golden hair gave me a coin—a coin of gold. I would have blessed her, and commenced—but failed. Even if I had blessed her, my blessings would have been empty words; but even such I could not bestow, for, as I spoke, I looked into her eyes and read her accursed of Hecate.'

'Hush! 'tis fearful!'

'I hurried after to know her name, and saw her enter a sumptuous home on the slope of Coressus, and was told it was Venusta's place, and she who entered Nika, the daughter. I sent the golden disc within, saying I needed it not. I could not take alms from the accursed girl, the young tigress who would have maimed thee—killed thee! This is my story. I go.'

'Hast thou more to say?'

'No, noble priestess. Let me go. The truth is said. Now I am weak again, and thou couldst crush me as a moth between the fingers, or I might presumptuously fly too near the flaming lamp and be my own destroyer.'

'I cannot let thee go as thou earnest, in poverty. Thou wilt, I am sure, take from my hands these bits of gold in place of that thou sacrificedst for me. They will buy thee food and wine and raiment, and help to give some little joy. Go thy unhappy way. I pity thee, Endora—I pity thee, and I tell thee I will care for myself; but no harm can come to me whilst I follow that which is good.'

Saronia left her, retired to her private chamber, and threw herself down to rest awhile. She believed all the woman had said. She had faith in Chios, but would he be firm amidst the temptations which beset him? Then she arose, and walked to and fro the room like a caged lion. She could not move out and wage warfare; it was an unequal fight. What could she do? For a moment jealousy sat upon the throne of reason, and she became fearful to look upon. Should she, in the might of her fury, blast this girl before her time? Should she pour forth her mystic spells until they consumed her very vitals? No! She would, at any rate, if war must come, battle with her, spirit against spirit, woman against woman. For the present she would wait events.

She wished now she had kept Endora, and bade her bring news from the hum of the busy world. Never mind; she could summon her at will. One thought could fetch her. She was mightier in will than the wise woman, and, as Hecate could summon her priestesses, so Saronia could call the witch.