Without exception, their expressions were sweet and intelligent; and they responded with warmth when introduced to the newcomers. After a short talk, all sat down to the simple meal of pease, milk, bread, and fruit—Sensel, meanwhile, leaving them, until the meal should be ended.
When he returned, it was to bid the new handmaids follow him. This they did, passing from the eating room into the court, and thence to the passage they had been in the night before. Through its length they went, and paused at a great arched door at the end. Then Electra whispered:
“Æole, look within.”
This door opened into the temple proper. Thus Æole, who had never attended the services because the queen did not, exclaimed of her exceeding wonder and admiration. For this is what she saw:
A great circular space, marble paved, and inclosed by walls and ceiling resplendent in settings of gold, silver, and orichalcum; at the eastern end, a richly engraved golden altar on which the sacred fire blazed high, and above which the morning light streamed in through a wide aperture; a row of handmaids and one priest standing by who had been in attendance the night through; flowers, flowers everywhere, on altar, statues, in niches, and the apertures; numbers of lamps of silver and gold pendent from the ceiling by silver chains or supported by alabaster stands—each lamp simulating a bird or flower, and all having a handle at one end and a beak at the other for pouring in oil, while through their upper surfaces projected wicks from the reservoirs below; great stands of alabaster bearing golden vessels in which smoked the incense;—and, wonder of wonders, the many golden statues!
After entering, Sensel led them among these golden statues—these representatives of Poseidon, Cleito, and the Nereids. Poseidon in his chariot, and with head reaching to the roof, was a piece of work so stupendous that Æole gazed bewildered, awed, until Sensel mercifully set her to counting the Nereids disporting about him on their dolphins.
But this was like making way through a labyrinth to the dazed Æole; and she found no rest until her eyes lighted on the beauteous Cleito, who was standing in her sweet serenity beside Poseidon. With a happy cry, she darted toward the entrancing figure, put her arms about it, and looked up with love into the tender face.
“Electra, thus looked my mother. It is herself in gold. My mother—my mother!”
“She was the wife of Poseidon. It is Cleito. Hast thou not heard the story? How, in the ages past, Poseidon came unto this island to find it a wilderness with her for its one fair flower? How he wedded her, and made of this a heaven almost? How ten sons were born to them in the palace which is now the temple above? How, when she died, he could no longer be king for grief? How he placed the crown upon his eldest, Atlas? How, after fond last words, he speeded away nevermore to be seen of the islanders, whose heavy hearts at last found cheer in the thought that their father was a god, and had gone back to his heaven from there to watch over and guide them?”
“I have heard it all from Queen Atlana. How dear is the story. Ah, Electra, if she were like this, what have we to fear?”