'Foiled am I on every hand.

'First, cursed by a slave once my slave, and she now the Queen Priestess of the Asian people, with myriads at her feet!

'That is not all. She has refused to aid me, even when Chios pleads for me, and he—what of him? The only man I ever loved, or ever shall, turns from my love and pities me. Curse the pity! Is it come to this, that I, a high-born Roman of the Romans, seek shelter from an unknown slave, and beg for love from a Greek, and be refused? No, no, Nika! Thou must arouse thyself, and thou shalt.

'What I cannot gain by pleadings shall be sought for otherwise. I will not be foiled. I will not die, and mix with every common dust borne hither and thither by the wanton breeze. Again I say no, it shall not be!

'Well then, Nika, bold girl, what wilt thou do? Let me think.

'Of one thing I am certain. Chios loves Saronia. Who knows but that she loves Chios? Of this I am not quite sure. No mortal knows the mind of that strange being. Ah! shall I say that she loves clandestinely and meets her lover?—whirl an arrow barbed perchance with lies and bring her down? That will be revenge, but I may in some way implicate Chios, and, besides, if I cannot prove my saying, I encounter death.

'No, this is too wild. Cease thy flutterings, vain spirit mine! Oh that I had proof of such a thing! Then would I rush to the world, proclaim her fallen, and gloat over her wretchedness. It may come—who can say? But, for the present, I have another course that will strike home—I will do my utmost to bring Chios to my love, and wound to death Saronia.

'I will seek the witch of Ephesus, Endora, and consult her. She will help me, for—gold. I will buy from her the costliest charms. She shall brew, doubly brew a philtre of love, strong enough to warm the icy Chios were he ten times colder than the snows on Tmolus. Neither will I lose time. I will meet her to-night. She lives in a darksome cave on the Temple side of Pion, and nothing shall daunt me, for, as soon as the veil of night is drawn, I will robe myself with courage, and go forth, fearing neither the howling beasts nor the shadowy gloom of the lofty pines. No, though a phalanx of fiends from the depths bar my passage, yet will I press forward like he who fights for life.'

When darkness enveloped the city and mountains, she stole forth from her home on the lofty Coressus, down the mountain way.

The sweet odours of the night-flowers blew gently against her cheeks. She drew her purple mantle around her, and hastened on unobserved.

As she passed the studio gate of Chios, the nightingale sang to its mate, but a chill of horror shook her soul, for well she knew her way was evil.

Moving away, her spirits rose. She left the great road to ascend the side of Mount Pion. Her step was light, and without weariness she drew near the cave of Endora. For the first time fear possessed her. She saw the witch at the entrance. She had, however, gone too far to retract, neither did she want to do so.

Well knowing a girl's appearance in such a place at such an hour could point only to one intent, the woman addressed Nika:

'Tell me, lady, dost thou seek the witch?'

'Yes,' replied the girl, 'and thou art she.'

'Come within, pretty maiden, for the winds are chill and the night-hawks violent. Nay, stay a moment, do not enter now. I will light the lamp.'

As Endora entered she thought within her: 'This is Nika accursed of Hecate, the tyrant of Saronia, the lover of Chios. What darkness is abroad? What comes she for to-night? Shall I slay or play with her? Revenge is toothsome to me. I have her in my power, and could square accounts for Saronia, but what, I wonder, would the priestess say? Perhaps I should get blame or death for my work. So I will let her be, and will draw from her that which I know the dark girl of the Temple will not disdain to hear.

'Now then, Endora, do thy work well. Fear not the Roman lady, and a mine of wealth is thine. But what do I care for gold?'

Nika entered the cave, hewn directly out of the rock. An iron ring was driven into the roof, and a quaint old Phallic lamp hung down just clear of their heads; a winding fissure in the rock let out the smoke. A recess was in its inner part, and a time-worn curtain hid a pallet of corn-leaves. Two old chests, a few stools, a rude altar, cooking-pans, and some quaint trifles spread around made up the contents of the place.

'Sit thee down, lady. Compose thyself. Thou art safe, although the place looks stormy. What seekest thou?'

'To know my fate. I have heard thou art deeply skilled in magic, and I would know more than the present reveals.'

'Wouldst thou know all?'

'How far would it go?'

'To thy life's end—and beyond.'

'Tell me first. You know the old story. Shall I love? whom? when? and so on?'

'Ah, girl, thou hast deeply loved, and he whom thou wilt wed thou lovest not.'

'Go on. Gold I have in abundance, and thou shalt be well paid.'

'No, I will not take thy gold.'

'Why not?'

'I wish it so.'

'Thou shalt have it. I have it by me.'

'I tell thee again, great lady, I will have none of it.'

'Why callest thou me great lady? Dost thou know me?'

'No, I know thee not, but see thy fate. Money from thee I will not take. Thou camest here safely; thou canst leave at once without hindrance.'

'No, no, woman! I have braved the dangers of the night to meet thee, and ere I leave fresh light must shine upon my pathway.'

'Ah, thou art a sharp maid! Now, then, what really is thy business?'

'I require a love philtre. 'Tis true as thou hast said, I marry the man I love not. I would make the one I love love me. Now to thy work! Thou art mightily skilled. I take thee into my confidence. Make the brewage sure, quick, decisive; there must be no mistake about it. First, then, know who I am—Nika, the daughter of Lucius and Venusta, the Romans. You know them?'

'Yes, lady.'

'Hearken again. I love Chios the Greek; I wed the Roman Proconsul because Chios loves me not, but if thou wilt compel him, I sink the Roman and wed Chios. Now I have bared my soul. Thou hast my secret. Keep it and help me, and I will care for thee. Reveal it, and, as I am young and powerful, and by Diana, I swear I will slay thee! Seest thou this dagger with its glinting jewelled hilt? I draw it. See its quivering blade, and beware! Be careful; I am indifferent to all—desperate! We are alone. No wavering will I have. Fulfil quickly my behest, and once more remember: betray Nika, and like a sleuth-hound I will track thee, and like a fury slay thee!'

'Thine eyes are full of fire, young woman, and thy tongue is free. Thou art impelled like a ship before the maddening gale. The witch Endora knows not coercion, and will not be commanded even by Nika the tyrant—tyrant as thou art!'

The girl sprang from her seat, and, with a bound, rushed at Endora, and, raising her jewelled hand, struck with her dagger at the woman's heart; but the strong arm of the witch was swiftly uplifted, and she clutched the wrist of Nika until the dagger fell.

'Fool that thou art to come here in thy madness to take my life! Hast thou not sense enough left to understand thou art but a sapling in my hands? What shall I do by thee? Shall I crush thee like a worm beneath my feet, or shall I let thee live and suffer?'

'Kill me,' said the Roman, 'and end it all! I am tired.'

'No, I will not—I cannot—I have no power to kill thee! Put up again thy tinselled weapon. A halo of darkness like a thousand nights envelops thy soul. Other hands than mine must slay accursed Nika!'

With a shriek the girl fell to the ground, and the dark, fiendish eyes looked down upon her, and the rugged brow of Endora was furrowed like the waves of the sea.

Nika had the glare of the lamp shining on her pale, frightened face, and the witch stood over her in shadow like a spirit of Hecate—a spirit of evil, of lies.

'Thou knowest that dread secret also. Who told thee?'

'No one told me; I read it in thee. My soul saw thine. When thou hast lived long enough, thou mayest see in others what I beheld in thee. Now sit thee on the seat, and let us converse together. My time is very precious; others come. I begin by saying defiance is not for me. Those I aid must be subjective. I am mistress when I deal out love-philtres. Let me clearly understand. Thou requirest one for Chios?'

'Yes. Say, dost thou know him?'

'Just a little; but methinks he is not the man to be trifled with. I advise thee cast adrift this hopeless love, and sow the seed of a new one for the Roman. Besides, Chios may love another.'

'Dost thou think so?'

'I think nothing—I know nothing; I simply suggest the very ordinary remark.'

'Endora, thou art not far away from the truth. I dare not say what I think.'

'Say on; nothing would surprise me after thy mad freak just now.'

'Well, I have a suspicion. He loves a very high personage—a princess.'

'Is it really so, lady?'

'Of course, I am not sure, but Chios always was wide in his actions. I knew a time when I believed he loved a slave.'

'To what slave referrest thou?'

'My slave,' replied Nika—'rather, my slave that was, now the great Saronia, High Priestess to the Ephesian Diana.'

'Nonsense, girl! thou art dreaming!'

'No, I am not, though in dreams ofttimes the truth appears.'

'But there is no truth in this,' replied Endora; 'and if there were, the mighty Saronia is incapable of love.'

'Dost thou know her so intimately as to be able to speak so minutely?'

'Who does not know her? Is she not the most prominent woman in Asia, and as good and lovely as she is famous? Thou canst scout the idea from thy mind of Saronia loving Chios or he loving her. Who is this princess thou hast referred to?'

'A Roman of royal blood.'

'Nika, circle of lies, canst thou think to deceive me, the magic centre of Ephesus? I divine thy thoughts, read thy soul to its very core. Again, let me advise thee, turn from this love business.'

'No! The philtre, brew it, make it quickly, give it me, I beg of thee! I cannot live without Chios. Have some compassion on me. Thou art a woman and wise, and canst see in this I lie not—my soul consumes me! He rejects me; all this inflames me to grasp quickly at this heart I love. In my passion I tried to slay thee. Forgive me, Endora—forgive me; I was mad! If thou dost not help me to win him—mark my meaning—I will not fail to make him so that he shall never love another!'

'Rash girl, thou art truly beside thyself! Philtre thou shalt have, but remember it often turns to madness those you seek to win. What then?'

'What then? I slay myself as an atonement!'

'Again, let me warn thee those philtres do not always take effect. It may be like so much water to Chios.'

'Never mind. Let me try.'

'Then have it thou shalt, but what of the Roman? With such intoxication for Chios, and if the Greek half equals thee, then it would be so apparent to the Proconsul.'

'Never you care! Give me a philtre to cool his love.'

So, without more words, Endora stepped into the gloom of the cave, and, opening one of the chests, took therefrom ingredients for the spell. On the altar the woman laid some embers of fire, and, pouring oil over them, they sent forth a little blaze, shining out and lighting up the faces with a lurid glare, casting dark shadows behind them. For a moment no voice broke the stillness of the place. After the woman had placed her crucible upon the fire, she turned to Nika, saying:

'Listen while I brew.' Stretching forth her bony hands, she said, 'Take this, thou haughty Greek:

Turning, she saw the girl pallid with fright and shading her eyes with her hands.

'Ah, Mistress Nika, thou art terror-stricken! What if I should clear thy vision and let thee see the spirits surrounding the charmed vessel?'

Endora blew out the light, and the twain were in darkness, except for the glare of the dying embers. The girl uttered a death-like wail, and fell to the ground like a corpse. When consciousness returned, she saw the witch sitting in a cleft of the rock, with a sardonic smile on her face and a small phial in her hand. But it was not filled with the brewage; its contents were harmless. Endora knew her rÔle too well to join Nika and Chios.

As the love-stricken maid grew fully awake, she cried:

'Oh, woman, thou art terrible! Is it thus thou makest the philtre? Had I known so much, my heart would have failed me. Thou art truly of Hecate, and so is Saronia. Is your creed the same?'

'No, proud daughter of Venusta. It is the same, yet not so. Saronia is blessed of Diana; I am the accursed of Hecate. Saronia commands those spirits by her goodness; I draw them by the evil within me. But those shades are the slaves of the priestess, slaves like she was a slave to thee, with this difference: she treats the most abject with compassion; thou treatedst her with——'

'Hush, woman; no more of this! Let her be.'

'Ah, let her be, indeed; thou dost not intend to. As soon as thou art hence, thou wilt do thy best to devour her, as the night-hawk a sleeping bird. But beware, girl! Thou art treading a great abyss, an unfathomable chasm. Be careful, or thou wilt regret thy undertaking! Shall I say more?'

'No, no; the philtre! Give it me, and let me go.'

'Here, take it! But wilt thou not also take this, a counter-one for the Roman, to make him, cool as Chios, burn with love? I have such ready.'

'Let it be so,' said Nika.

Then the witch said:

'Be wise: the rose-coloured phial for Chios; the azure for the Roman.'

But the azure one was the brewage of hell.