“Hear me, O King, Princes and People! ...  Whereas it has unhappily occurred, to the wonder and sorrow of many, that the holy Spouse of the divine Nagaya is delayed in her desired departure, by the unforeseen opposition and unedifying contumacy of Sah-luma, Poet Laureate of this realm; and lest it may be perchance imagined by the uninitiated, that the maiden is in any way unwilling to fulfil her glorious destiny, the High and Immaculate Priestess of the Shrine doth bid me here pronounce a respite; a brief interval wherein, if the King and the People be willing, he who is named Sah-luma shall, by virtue of his high renown, be permitted to address the Virgin-victim and ascertain her own wishes from her own lips.  Injustice cannot dwell within this Sacred Temple,—­and if, on trial, the maiden chooses the transitory joys of Earth in preference to the everlasting joys of the Palaces of the Sun, then in Nagaya’s name shall she go free!—­inasmuch as the god loves not a reluctant bride, and better no Sacrifice at all, than one that is grudgingly consummated!”

He ceased,—­and Sah-luma sprang erect, his eyes sparkling, his whole demeanor that of a man unexpectedly disburdened from some crushing grief.

“Thanks be unto the benevolent destinies!” he exclaimed, flashing a quick glance of gratitude toward Lysia, . . the statuesque Lysia, on whose delicately curved lips the faintly derisive smile still lingered ...  “And in return for the life of my Niphrata I will give a thousand jewels rare beyond all price to deck Nagaya’s tabernacle!—­and I will pour libations to the Sun for twenty days and nights, in token of my heart’s requital for mercy well bestowed!”

Stooping he kissed the King’s hand,—­whereupon at a sign from Zel, one of the priests attired in scarlet unfastened Niphrata’s bound hands, and led her, as one leads a blind child, straight up to where Sah-luma and Theos stood, close beside the King, who, together with many others, stared curiously upon her.  How fixed and feverishly brilliant were her large dark-blue eyes! ... how set were the sensitive lines of her mouth!—­how indifferent she seemed, how totally unaware of the Laureate’s presence!  The priest who brought her retired into the background, and she remained where he left her, quite mute and motionless.  Oh, how every nerve in Theos’s body throbbed with inexpressible agony as he beheld her thus!  The wildest remorse possessed him, . . it was as though he looked on the dim picture of a ruin which he himself had recklessly wrought, . . and he could have groaned aloud in the horrible vagueness of his incomprehensible despair!  Sah-luma caught the girl’s hand, and peered into her white, still face.

“Niphrata! .. .Niphrata!” he said in a tremulous half-whisper, “I am here,—­Sah-luma! ...  Dost thou not know me!”

She sighed, . . a long, shivering sigh,—­and smiled, . . what a strange, wistful, dying smile it was! ... but she made no answer.