“If thou lovest thy sister, out of this. Fly!”
But Hellen shook off his hand as he answered:
“Touch me not. I will go of my own will.”
Sensel, holding with the more strength, began to draw him along as with the force of the wind. On—on—they sped, and into the temple. Here it was still empty, but voices could be heard in the passage leading to the inner sanctuary. Sensel cried:
“On to the portal!” still holding fast. And Hellen, at last realizing his rashness, complied. But not to escape. The sanctuary door opened as they neared the portal; and in came Oltis and Urgis.
The former’s assurance had returned. But he paused in dismay at beholding the temple thus deserted, and Hellen and Sensel by the portal. The former was freeing himself; the latter looked worsted, conquered rather than conquering.
Hurriedly the priests approached them. And Oltis asked:
“Sensel, what doeth the youth here with thee?”
“He went not with the others. I would have forced him away.”
“The place of a messenger is in the outer court,” said Urgis sternly.