A great doubt took hold of Elissa and shook her being, and with the doubt came hope.  How was it—­if her faith were true—­that when she took the name of the goddess in vain, nothing had befallen her?  She desired to learn more of this matter, but who was to teach her?  The Levite turned from her with loathing as from a thing unclean, and there remained, therefore, but the prince Aziel, who had put her from him with those bitter words of scorn.  Ah! why did they pain her so, piercing her heart as with a spear?  Was it because—­because—­he had grown dear to her?  Yes, that was the truth.  She had learned it even as he cursed her; all her quick southern blood was alight with a new fire, the like of which she had never known before.  And not her blood only, it was her spirit—­her spirit that yearned to his.  Had it not leapt within her at the first sight of him as to one most dear, one long-lost and found again?  She loved him, and he loathed her, and oh! her lot was hard.

As Elissa lay brooding thus in her pain, the door opened and Sakon, her father, hurried into the chamber.

“What is it that chanced yonder?” he asked, for he had not been present in the sanctuary, “and, daughter, why do you weep?”

“I weep, father, because your guest, the prince Aziel, has called me ’a girl of the groves, and a murderess of children,’” she replied.

“Then, by my head, prince that he is, he shall answer for it to me,” said Sakon, grasping at his sword-hilt.

“Nay, father, since to him I must have seemed to deserve the words.  Listen.”  And she told him all that had passed, hiding nothing.

“Now it seems that trouble is heaped upon trouble,” said the Phoenician when she had finished, “and they were mad who suffered the prince and that fierce Issachar to be present at the sacrifice.  Daughter, I tell you this:  though I am a worshipper of El and Baaltis, as my fathers were before me, I know that Jehovah of the Jews is a great and powerful Lord, and that His prophets do not prophesy falsely, for I have seen it in my youth, yonder in the coasts of Sidon.  What did Issachar say?  That before the moon was young again, this temple should run red with blood?  Well, so it may happen, for Ithobal threatens war against us, and for your sake, my daughter.”

“How for my sake, father?” she asked heavily, as one who knew what the answer would be.

“You know well, girl.  Ever since you danced before him at the great welcoming feast I made in his honour a month ago the man is besotted of you; moreover, he is mad with jealousy of this new-comer, the prince Aziel.  He has demanded public audience of me this afternoon, and I have it privately that then he will formally ask you in marriage before the people, and if he is refused will declare war upon the city, with which he has many an ancient quarrel.  Yes, yes, king Ithobal is that sword of God which the Jew said he saw hanging over us, and should it fall it will be because of you, Elissa.”