“Let be.. let be!” he said austerely—“Ye cannot cause the dead to feel, . . would that it were possible! Then might the glorious and god like thirst of vengeance in our great High Priestess be somewhat more appeased in this matter. For the unlawful communion of love between a vestal virgin and an anointed priest cannot be too utterly abhorred and condemned,—and these twain, who thus did foully violate their vows, have perished far too easily. The sanctity of the Temple has been outraged, . . Lysia will not be satisfied, . . and how shall we pacify her righteous wrath, concerning this too tranquil death of the undeserving and impure?”
Drawing all together in a close group they held a whispered consultation, and finally, appearing to have come to some sort of decision, they took up the dead bodies one after another, and flung them carelessly into the dark aperture lately unclosed. As they did this, a stealthy, rustling sound was heard, as of some great creature moving to and fro in the far interior, but they soon locked and barred the iron portal once more, and then took their departure rather hurriedly, leaving the vault by the way Theos had entered it—namely, up the stone stairway that led into Lysia’s palace-gardens. As the last echo of their retreating steps died away and the last glimmer of their lurid torches vanished, Theos sprang out from his hiding-place,—his venerable companion slowly followed.
“Oh, God! Can such things be!” he cried loudly, reckless of all possible risk for himself as his voice rang penetratingly through the deep silence—“Were these brute-murderers actual men?—or but the wandering, grim shadows of some long past crime? ... Nay,— surely I do but dream!—and ghouls and demons born out of nightmare-sleep do vex my troubled spirit! Justice! ... justice for the innocent! ... Is there none in all Al-Kyris?”
“None!” replied the old man who stood beside him, lamp in hand, fixing his dark, melancholy eyes upon him as he spoke—“None! ... neither in Al-Kyris nor in any other great city on the peopled earth! Justice? ... I who am named Zuriel the Mystic, because of my tireless searching into things that are hidden from the unstudious and unthinking,—I know that Justice is an idle name,— an empty braggart-word forever on the mouths of kings and judges, but never in their hearts! Moreover,—what is guilt? ... What is innocence? Both must be defined according to the law of the realm wherein we dwell,—and from that law there can be no appeal. These men we lately saw were the chief priests and executioners of the Sacred Temple,—they have done no wrong—they have simply fulfilled their duty. The culprits slain deserved their fate,— they loved where loving was forbidden,—torture and death was the strictly ordained punishment, and herein was justice,—justice as portioned out by the Penal Code of the High Court of Council.”
Theos heard, and gave an expressive gesture of loathing and contempt.