At least she knew where he had gone; at least there was one spot of earth on which her loving thoughts could light, like weary birds, and take their rest. But how to reach him? how to span the cruel distance that lay between? Gazing wistfully on the amulet in her hand, she would have bartered all her hopes here and hereafter, peace and safety, life and beauty, innocence itself, in exchange for the wings of a dove.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
BOND AND FREE
"A horned owl in the twilight; a horned owl in the dark! How many horns does my owl hold up!" A merry laugh was ringing in her ear, a soft hand was laid over her eyes, while the white fingers of its fellow twinkled before her face, and Ishtar recognised the voice of Kalmim, challenging her to one of those foolish games of guessing so popular from the earliest ages with the thoughtless children of the south.
It was something to meet a friend, and of her own sex, even though that friend was one with whom her deeper, purer nature had but little in common. Strung to their highest pitch, her feelings now gave way; and leaning on Kalmim's shoulder, Ishtar burst into a passion of weeping that perhaps did more to calm and restore her than all the feminine consolations and condolences lavished by the other, whose compassion, lying near the surface, seemed easily aroused and quickly exhausted.
A weeping girl was no unusual sight in the public places of great Babylon. Exciting neither pity nor comment, Ishtar and Kalmim withdrew unnoticed from the crowd, to stand apart in the shelter of a gigantic fountain, erected for the refreshment of her people by the Great Queen, where the younger woman soon recovered composure to answer the voluble questions of the elder.
"Where have you been hiding, and what have you been doing, and why have we never seen you at the well, in the temple, at market, sacrifice, or on the city wall?" said Kalmim, flirting the water about while she dipped her white hand in its marble basin. "Surely the days of mourning are past, and those of feasting should have begun. Why, then, in the name of Ashtaroth, do I find the fairest damsel in Babylon with her eyes unpainted, her head untied, and, my dear, a dress that looks as if it had been trodden in the dust by every beast in the market? How did you ever get it so rumpled and soiled?"
Ignoring this important consideration, Ishtar took the other by the hand, and gazing in her face with large serious eyes, replied,
"Kalmim, I believe you would serve me, if you could. I believe you are my friend."