Elissa was borne in triumph.  Vaguely she heard the shouts and music, dimly she saw the dancing-girls and the bowing crowds.  But all the while her heart was alive with pain and her brain, crushed beneath the menace of this misery, could grasp nothing clearly save the completeness of her loss.  Loss!  Yes, she was lost indeed.  One short hour ago and she was rejoicing in the presence of the man she loved, and who, as she believed, loved her, while in her mind rose visions of some happy life with him far away from this city and the dark rites of the worshippers of Baal.  And now she found herself the chief priestess of that worship which already she had learned to fear if not to hate.  More, as its priestess, till death should come to comfort her, she was cut off for ever from him whom she adored, cut off also from the hope of that new spiritual light which had begun to dawn upon her soul.

Elissa looked upon the beautiful women who leapt and sang about her litter, listening to the clash of their ornaments of gold, and as she listened and looked her eyes seemed to gain power to behold the spirits within them.  Surely she could see these, dark and hideous things, with shifting countenances, terrible to look on, and themselves wearing in their eyes of flame a stamp of eternal terror, while in her ears the music of their golden necklaces was changed to a clank as of fetters and of instruments of torment.  Yes; and there before the dancers in the red cloud of dust which rose from their beating feet, floated the dim shape of that demon of whom she had been chosen the high-priestess.

Look at her mocking, inhuman countenance, and her bent brow of power!  Look at her spread and flaming hair and her hundred hands outstretched to grasp the souls of men!  Hark! the clamour of the cymbals and the cry of the dancers blended together and became her voice, a dreadful voice that gave greeting to her princess, promising her pride of place and life-long power in payment for her service.

“I desire none of these,” her heart seemed to answer; “I desire him only whom I have lost.”

“Is it so?” replied the Voice.  “Then bid him burn incense upon my altar and take him to yourself.  Have I not given you enough of beauty to snare a single soul from among the servants of my enemy the God of the Jews?”

“Nay, nay!” her heart cried; “I will not tempt him to do this evil thing.”

“Yea, yea!” mocked the phantom Voice; “for your sake he shall burn incense upon my altar.”

*****

The phantasy passed, and now the golden gates of the palace of Baaltis rolled open before Elissa.  Now, too, the priestesses bore her to the golden throne shaped like a crescent moon, and threw over her a black veil spangled with stars, symbol of the night.  Then having shut out the uninitiated, they worshipped her after their secret fashion till she sank down upon the throne overcome with fear and weariness.  Then at last they carried her to that wonder of workmanship and allegorical art, the ivory bed of Baaltis, and laid her down to sleep.