“Follow him.”
Hellen, as if charmed, went after the noiseless, gliding, quivering shape, through an opening door, and down a wide passage to a great apartment to the north of the temple proper. This was the gathering room of the priests, and several of these stood about the door.
When fairly within this apartment, Hellen’s listlessness fled. He had caught sight of Æole at the farther end. She was standing before the chief priest Urgis, who was seated at a table; and by her side, and half supporting her, was a maiden apparently as young as herself.
In his eagerness, Hellen hurried past his dust-colored guide, and paused almost beside Æole. With strange intensity, he took in her grace, and the subtle charm of expression pervading face, hands, and limbs,—each as potent as her magnetic glance. Æole’s soul fascinated in repose, in activity—in turn of the head, curves of the limbs, shaping of foot, movement of hands,—in voice, smile, buoyancy of tread. It was as though the material body gladly served as glass the most transparent to disclose the spiritual body within, in all its purity, beauty, and perfectness of organization.
But, as Hellen gazed and wondered, he became aware of the power of a pair of eyes of rare beauty and intelligence. These were set in the head of the maiden supporting Æole, and so magnetic were they that his careless look became fixed, whereat she blushed, and turned the eyes away. He was quick to observe that hers was a type of feature not purely Atlantean, a type similar to Queen Atlana’s in its large brown eyes, rich olive complexion, and fine, dark, waving hair. Who was this bright, beautiful, imperial young creature? To his surprise, conjectures about her began to rival his anxiety for Æole; though not for long. For Priest Urgis, with due solemnity, was addressing the newcomers.
“Maidens, we of the temple greet thee. And hearken ye well, Electra of Khemi, Æole of Pelasgia, and to this: It is the will of the gods that, from this day, the great temple holdeth you. For this honor, cease not to give thanks. For this high place, call forth thy powers.”
“But, Cousin Urgis!” remonstrated Electra, proudly, and to the amaze of the gathering priests. Never before had incipient handmaid lifted her voice thus.
“Hush, daughter,” interrupted Urgis, his unctuous, hypocritical tone vanishing. “Not here canst thou speak unless bidden. Thou art to hearken, and to this.”
Electra turned from him with such royal indifference as to amaze the beholders the more. But Urgis, unheeding, continued:
“Thou, Electra of Khemi, daughter of the princes of Atlantis and Khemi, and owner of many arts gained in the palace of the high priest, art deemed most worthy this honor. Much have we heard of thy fond care of the mother passed away, and of the high, bright powers of thy mind. Thus hath it been thought fitting to call thee to the service of our Father Poseidon. Then greeting to thee, Princess Electra, and worthy Cousin.”