"'He was; for although succession to the crown of Gathma never runs through female descendants, it was his wish that I should wed a noble of our own race. He hath prejudice against thee, for thou art not of this world; besides, he also urged thy short span of life.'
"'But that is easily overcome, darling,' I urged.
"'Not so easily as thou thinkest; but I am not going to brood on that terror to-night—at least, not yet. I spoke of Echri's power, and of thy own determination, and that bringeth me to what I hadst forgotten in my joy. My father at last consented to my wish; but he made it the condition that thou shouldst pass through this ordeal of fire. He sayeth that if thou hast the courage to face this awful trial, which will make thee more of Gathma than of Ramos, then, and then only, art thou worthy of being mate for me.'
"'With you for my reward, dearest Volinè, I would not hesitate to suffer the pangs of death a hundred times. I win your love in this ordeal——"
"'Nay, Harry, thou hast won it long ago.'
"'May heaven bless you for those precious words,' I answered, as I kissed her flushed cheeks, and drew her head gently down upon my shoulder.
"A low knocking at the door broke the spell of our delicious pleasure, and we heard Cyni, who had evidently being instructed to watch, saying:
"'Hearken, O mistress; Echri the Priest cometh.'
"'Then conduct him thither, Cyni, with thy fleetest steps,' Volinè answered, seating herself on a couch and smoothing her ruffled hair.
"In a few moments this famous Priest arrived, and I was not a little astonished to see with what reverence he was received. But his calm, saintly, dignified bearing seemed imperatively to demand respect, even obeisance. Never before had I seen so aged a being, or one whose full-ripe years of life were borne with so much vigour and manliness. He came into Volinè's room with a firm and upright step, his long hair and beard, which reached below his breast, white with the winters of centuries, setting off a singularly handsome and intelligent face. Bareheaded, clad in a long loose black garment, tightened with a scarlet sash round his waist, and with a scroll of what looked like parchment in one hand, and a long, richly ornamented staff in the other, he advanced towards Volinè saying:—