“O ‘Silent Priest,’ is this how the gods would help? If thou wilt but heed me. Beseech of them that I, too, may go. Life is such a woe that I am tempted to end it. Ah, to die with Æole! If thou wilt but plead with Amen and Poseidon to have mercy upon me—as they have had upon her. Let me go to her.”
He took her hand. And, oh the sudden strength that came to her! In an instant, she was no longer despairing. Then, he signed for her to arise; and she stood up as a queen.
“‘Silent Priest,’ thou hast spoken. It is not mine to ask thee to beseech the gods. If it is their will I should sorrow more, I must bear. I will chafe no longer.”
He regarded her with approbation; and bowed in acquiescence. She felt he was saying inwardly:
“Keep this, thy humility. It will lead thee to light. May the gods cheer thee.”
Though the tears were welling thick in her eyes, for all her strength. As these fell, she moaned, “Hard, hard, will it be without Æole. How soon she filled my heart. From the first was I fond of her. And fond was she to me!” Then, impetuously, with arms outstretched, she turned to run toward the couch, when called by one of several handmaids entering from the passage.
She paused. They came beside her; and the handmaid who had called, whispered: “We have made ready the bed of lilies in front of the altar. There Æole will lie until the embalmers send the word. We have come for her.”
Painful was it to witness Electra’s pallor. She murmured: “Let us draw beside her. I would kiss her.” Whereupon, this handmaid led the suffering girl in among the watchers, and to the place where she could take Æole’s hand—to kiss, to bathe it with her tears.
One of the handmaids left then spoke to a priest. This priest, in turn, spoke to Oltis. Thus Oltis, in loud tone, asked:
“Where is Sensel?”