Saronia Part 14

'By what right or reason? Say on.'

'By being the fittest, if those who know her best speak the truth.'

'Oh, Chios, why are you so fascinated by this snake-like creature?'

'I am not fascinated, most n.o.ble Venusta. I speak as reason prompts me.

If my reason is awry, then call me mad.'

'No, no; thou art not mad. If any man in Ionia has a well-balanced and healthy mind, it is thou; but, nevertheless, although I alter the picture on my mind of an innocent bird drawn on to destruction by the piercing eye of a snake, yet the conditions are the same within me, and I must say I cannot for my life understand why such a sensible man can be led by the charming of such a wicked girl.'

'She is not wicked; she is pure, and worthy of great consideration. All Ephesus speaks of her goodness.'

'But dost thou not know her spirit is so deeply imbued with the mysteries of her wors.h.i.+p that it is said she with impunity treads the dark realms of Tartarus? Wherein, then, lies all her boasted goodness?'

'It may be so; but I warrant this, madam, if Saronia moves into those mysteries, and mixes with the spirits imprisoned, it is to minister to their wants, and not to add a pang to their unutterable woe.'

'Thou art incorrigible; and it is useless, I perceive, to talk to thee on this matter. Thou wilt awaken one day from this cloudy dream and see her in all her horror. Dost thou not fear her?'

'No; none need fear the good; it is the evil which haunts us.'

'Oh, mother,' cried Nika, 'do change this most uninteresting subject!

Saronia is no longer under our control, and we may not speak of her in this manner without fear. She serves the G.o.ddess; let her be. Should fate call her to wear the diamond crown, what is that to thee? What is that to me?'

'So, so, pretty girl! Art thou taking to thyself the right to lecture me? Thou, above all, hast had more than enough of this foul serpent's venom thrust on thee; and I tell you all, if I have influence it shall be directed to drag her from the proud position to which her ambitious spirit soars, and I am certain Varro will aid me when I say Nika nearly paid with her life for the fright Saronia gave her. A wicked, designing enemy is she.'

'Gracious lady,' replied the Roman, 'I fear I cannot move in matters of religion. I should bring down a swarm of bees about my ears and odium on the power of Rome;' and he looked sideways with a smile towards Chios, but the face of the Greek was like marble--not a muscle moved. Then Varro continued: 'No, no; let her be. None may break her faith, neither Greek nor Roman; if she be not called by the G.o.ddess, then this rumour will float away into nothingness.'

'I suppose thou sayest truly; but one thing I know, were she priestess presiding, Venusta would not enter the Temple--no, not if it were the only pathway to the Elysian.'

'But,' said Chios, 'the Lady Venusta would witness the installation, should such take place, and favour me with her company?'

'Thanks; but that shall not be. I might cause thee perturbation;' and she smiled rather cynically, or Chios thought so.

Chios was thoughtful, and his gaze was through the open window away over the city towards the grove of Hecate, where the great trees peeped from behind the mountain of Pion.

A dead silence fell on all, which was broken by Nika saying:

'I should so much like thee to paint a picture of myself. Say, wilt thou? And when may I give thee first sitting?'

'When thou comest,' replied Chios, 'I will do my best.'

'Good!' said Venusta; 'thou shalt do it. I am sure it will do thee no harm to look intently on a face like hers. It might perhaps soften thy too sage-like brow; and then--who knows?--thou mightst captivate some lovely girl--eh?--as lovely as Nika. What sayest thou, n.o.ble lord of Rome?'

'True,' said he, 'it may be so; but I fear it is a hopeless case. He is a confirmed bachelor.'

'Perhaps not,' said Nika's mother. 'Who can tell? He may now be madly in love. Chios does such strange things. During his absence from us he may have taken a wife, and at any moment herald her forth as the fairest of Ionia. May it be so, n.o.ble Greek?'

'No; Samos may be levelled to the ocean bed, but thou wilt never--never see me wed.'

'Thou art dark again, Chios. Move aside, girl,' said Venusta; 'let the sun s.h.i.+ne upon him;' but the face of Nika became clouded. She knew her mother's wit was wounding the heart of the only man she really loved.

CHAPTER XVI

A GARDEN ON CORESSUS

The evening grew old, but the light still lingered in the sky, and Venusta suggested a walk in the garden, seeing her daughter was agitated and careworn.

The soft winds moved the leaves of the silver poplar, the violet-scented air fanned their cheeks, the convolvuli were closing, and the narcissi nodded good-night; it seemed sacrilege to break in on the perfumed silence. Varro walked with Venusta, and Nika with the Greek. Chios was the first to speak:

'Thou art unhappy to-night, Nika. What ails thee?'

'Nothing. I am happy. The evening air is sweet and pleasant to my soul, and before thou didst speak I saw the first star glisten on the diadem of night--s.h.i.+ning out like a Pharos to the mariner; and as he knows by it that land is nigh, so see I that star a beacon on the hills of a far-away haven which perchance I may never enter, but be s.h.i.+pwrecked at the last.'

'Poor girl, thou art indeed sad!'

'Yea, sad I am, yet happy in my sadness. Oftentimes I am sad and wretched withal; but to-night, I know not why, I am resigned--feeling as if some great, sad joy spread its wings around me for protection. Oh that I might ever continue so! I fear this is but a prelude to a storm-wind which shall rush over and break me as a hurricane would kill those lovely flowers.'

As she spoke a night-hawk pa.s.sed with a shriek, and the evening star was hid with a cloud.

'Sawest thou that dreadful bird? Heard'st thou its wail, Chios?'

'Yea. What of it? It goes to its home on the cliffs of Coressus.'

'No, no! That is not all! It spoke as it flew--shrieked sounds of gloom, which the augurs understand; it means evil!'

'Dost thou believe the augurs, Nika?'

'I do, and the words of the priestess also.'

'Which priestess?'

'Saronia.'

'What of her?'

'Dost thou not know?'

'Thy mother told me something respecting an uttered curse.'

'What if she become High Priestess of Diana?'

'She would deal justly.'

'Thou dost not know how I fear that girl--how I fear her spell. I have tried to drown it, but it will not die. It mounts above the crested ocean of my pleasure, and, like the evil bird just pa.s.sed, it wheels and shrieks around, and mars the joys that youth and the world give me.'