Thus they sang in the soft, strange vowel-language of Al-Kyris, and tripped along with that innocent, unthinking gayety usual to such young creatures, up to the centre aisle toward the Sanctuary.  They were followed by four priests in scarlet robes and closely masked, . . and walking steadfastly between these, came a slim girl clad in white, veiled from head to foot and crowned with a wreath of lotus lilies.  All the congregation, as though moved by an impulse, turned to look at her as she passed,—­but her features were not as yet discernible through the mist-like draperies that enfolded her.

The singing children, always preceding her and scattering flowers, having arrived at the steps of the Shrine, grouped themselves on either side,—­and the red garmented Priests, after having made several genuflections to the glittering Python that now, with reared neck and quivering fangs, seemed to watch everything that was going on with absorbed and crafty vigilance, proceeded to unveil the maiden martyr, and also to tie her slight hands behind her back by means of a knotted silver cord.  Then in a firm voice the Priest Zel proclaimed: 

“Behold the elected Bride of the Sun and the Divine Nagaya!

“She bears away from the city the burden of your sins, O ye people, and by her death the gods are satisfied!

“Rejoice greatly, for ye are absolved,—­and by the Silver Veil and the Eye of Raphon we pronounce upon all here present the blessing of pardon and peace!”

As he spoke the girl turned round as though in obedience to some mechanical impulse, and fully confronted the multitude, . . her pale, pure face, framed in a shining aureole of rippling fair hair, floated before Theos’s bewildered eyes like a vision seen indistinctly in a magic crystal, and he was for a moment uncertain of her identity; but quick as a flash Sah-luma’s glance lighted upon her, and, with a cry of horror that sent desolate echoes through and through the arches of the Temple, he started from his seat, his arms outstretched, his whole frame convulsed and quivering.

“Niphrata! ...  Niphrata! ...” and his rich voice shook with a passion of appeal, “O ye gods! ... what mad, blind, murderous cruelty!  Zephoranim!” ... and he turned impetuously on the astonished monarch:  “As thou livest crowned King I say this maid is mine! ... and in the very presence of Nagaya, I swear she shall not die!”

CHAPTER XXVIII.

The sacrifice.

A solemn silence ensued.  Consternation and wrath were depicted on every countenance.  The Sacred Service was interrupted! ... a defiance had been hurled as it were in the very teeth of the god Nagaya! ... and this horrible outrage to Religion and Law had been actually committed by the Laureate of the realm!  It was preposterous, ... incredible! ... and the gaping crowds reached over each other’s shoulders to stare at the offender, pressing forward eager, wondering, startled faces, which to Theos looked far more spectral than real, seen in the shimmering green radiance that was thrown flickering upon them from the luminous Arch above the Altar.  The priests stood still in speechless indignation, . .  Lysia moved not at all, nor raised her eyes; only her lips parted in a very slight cold smile.