Now they were near the greater pillar, and now from its shadow glided a black-veiled shape.

“Elissa?” murmured Aziel.

“It is I,” whispered a soft voice; “but who comes with you?”

“I, Issachar,” said the Levite, “who would not suffer that he of whom I am given charge should seek such company alone.  Now, priestess, say your say with the prince yonder and let us be gone swiftly from this blood-stained place.”

“You speak harsh words to me, Issachar,” she said gently, “yet I am most glad that you have come, for, believe me, I sought no lovers’ meeting with the prince Aziel.  Listen, both of you:  you know that they have consecrated me high-priestess of Baaltis against my will.  Now, I tell you, Issachar, what I have already told the prince Aziel—­that I am no longer a worshipper of Baaltis.  Yes, here in her very temple I renounce her, even though she takes my life in vengeance.  Oh! since they made me priestess I have been forced to learn all her worship, which before I never even guessed, and to see sights that would chill your blood to hear of them.  Now I tell you, prince Aziel and Issachar, that I will bear no more.  From El and Baaltis I turn to Him you worship, though, alas! little time is left to me in which to plead for pardon.”

“Why is little time left?” broke in Aziel.

“Because my death is very near me, Prince, for if I live, see what a fate is mine.  Either I must remain high-priestess of Baaltis and to her day by day bow the knee, and month by month make sacrifice—­of what think you?  Well, to be plain, of the blood of maids and children.  Or, perhaps, should their fears overcome their scruples, I shall be given by the council as a peace-offering to Ithobal.

“I say that I will bear neither of these burdens of blood or shame; they are too heavy for me.  Prince, so soon as you are gone I too shall leave this city, not in the body, but in the spirit, searching for peace or sleep.  It was for this reason that I sought to speak with you in farewell, since in my weakness I desired that you should learn the truth of the cause and manner of my end.

“Now you know all, and as for me there is no escape, farewell for ever, prince Aziel, whom I have loved, and whom I can scarcely hope to meet again, even beyond the grave.”  Then with a little despairing motion of her hand she turned to go.

“Stay,” said Aziel hoarsely, “we cannot be parted thus; since by your own act you can dare to leave the world, will you not dare to fly this place with me?”

“Perhaps, Prince,” she answered with a little laugh, “but would you dare to take me, and if so, would Issachar here suffer it?  No, no; go your own path in life, and leave me death—­it is the easier way.”

“In this matter I am master and not Issachar,” said Aziel, “though it be true that should it please him, he can warn the priests of El.  Listen, Elissa:  either you leave this city with me, or I stay in it with you.  You hear me, Issachar?”