The tears were in Electra’s eyes. And Sensel’s, could it be that his were moist? Eager were his low tones.
“Fear not, Æole. The spirit of Cleito may not be able to aid thee, but the gods have other workers.”
Then, perceiving that the priest was nearing them, he added in his ordinary tone:
“We may linger among these no longer. Thy duties, and those of Electra, are now for thy thought. This priest will show you all.”
To this priest they were then introduced, and he at once began to initiate them in their duties. These were to dust, to arrange the flowers, to fill and light the lamps, to watch the sacred fire, and to assist in the chanting of the services. Thus entered they upon their servitude.
Through the day, the two looked forward to the night. Would Hellen be permitted to join them, in deference to the voice, or would the king be overruled? Their anxiety grew as the day waned; and, when dismissed late in the evening, they repaired to their rooms without hope. When ready for supper, and about to emerge from their doors, Sensel was perceived standing near. At their greeting, he came towards them smiling his brightest, and said:
“Hellen doth wait for you on the hill above, near the temple of Poseidon and Cleito. There ye may talk with him for an hour, when ye have ended your meal.”
“It is good,” returned Æole, overjoyed. “Sensel, we thank thee. To think the king doth grant it. We feared to hope.”
“Yea, the king granteth it. But—let there be care,” and turning quickly, he glided off.
After a hurried meal, they came out into the court to find him awaiting them. He led them to a low door towards the west, and opening this disclosed the hillside.