“Is it your pleasure that I should leave you?” asked Metem presently.  “No?  Then, Prince, I would have you remember that you are still very weak and should not give way to violent emotions.”

“Listen, Aziel,” said Elissa, untwining his arms from about her neck, “there is no time for tenderness; moreover, you should show none to one who, in name at least, is still the high-priestess of Baaltis, though in truth she worships her no longer.  It was noble of you indeed to offer incense upon the altar of El that my life might be saved.  But when I prayed you not, I spoke from the heart, and bitterly, bitterly do I grieve that for my sake you should have stained your hands with such a sin.  Moreover, it will avail nothing, for the doom of the prophet Issachar lies upon us, and I cannot escape from death, neither can you escape remorse, and as I think, that worst of all desires—­the desire for the dead.”

“Can we not still flee the city?” asked Aziel.

“Metem will tell you that it is impossible; day and night I am watched and guarded, yes, Mesa dogs me from door to door.  Also Ithobal holds Zimboe so firmly in his net that no sparrow could fly out of it and he not know.  And there is worse to tell:  Beloved, they purpose to give me up as a peace-offering to Ithobal.  Yes, even my father is of the plot, for in his despair he thinks it his duty to sacrifice his daughter to save the town, if, indeed, that will suffice to save us.”

“But you are the Baaltis and inviolate.”

“In such a time the goddess herself would not be held inviolate in Zimboe, much less her priestess, Aziel.  I have discovered that this very night they have laid their plans to seize me.  Mesa and others have been chosen for the deed, and afterwards they think to offer me as a bribe to Ithobal, who will take no other price.”

Aziel groaned aloud:  “It were better that we should die,” he said.

She nodded and answered:  “It were better that I should die.  But hear me, for I also have a plan, and there is still hope, though very little.  Perhaps, as you drew near to Zimboe by the coast road, you may have noted three miles or more from the gates of the city, and almost overhanging the path on which you travelled, a shoulder of the mountain where the rock is cut away, showing the narrow entrance to a cave closed with a gate of bronze?”

“I saw it,” answered Aziel, “and was told that there was the most sacred burying-place of the city.”

“It is the tomb of the high-priestesses of Baaltis,” went on Elissa, “and this day at sunset I must visit it to lay an offering upon the shrine of her who was the Baaltis before me, entering alone, and closing the gate, for it is not lawful that any one should pass in there with me.  Now, the plan is to lay hands on me as I go back from the tomb to the palace—­but I shall not go back.  Aziel, I shall stay in the tomb—­nay, do not fear—­not dead.  I have hidden food and water there, enough for many days, and there with the departed I shall live—­till I am of their number.”