We came to the end of the second court where was a sanctuary.
“Enter,” said Karema and fell back.
I did so and though the cedar door was left a little ajar, at first could see nothing because of the gloom of the place. By degrees my eyes grew accustomed to the darkness and I perceived an alabaster statue of the goddess Isis of the size of life, who held in her arms an ivory child, also lifesize. Then I heard a sigh and, looking down, saw a woman clad in white kneeling at the feet of the statue, lost in prayer. Suddenly she rose and turned and the ray of light from the door ajar fell upon her. It was Amada draped only in the transparent robe of a priestess, and oh! she was beautiful beyond imagining, so beautiful that my heart stood still.
She saw me in my battered mail and the blood flowed up to her breast and brow and in her eyes there came a light such as I had never known in them before, the light that is lit only by the torch of woman’s love. Yes, no longer were hers the eyes of a priestess; they were the eyes of a woman who burns with mortal passion.
“Amada,” I whispered, “Amada found at last.”
“Shabaka,” she whispered back, “returned at last, to me, your home,” and she stretched out her arms toward me.
But before I could take her into mine, she uttered a little cry and shrank away.
“Oh! not here,” she said, “not here in the presence of this Holy One who watches all that passes in heaven and earth.”
“Then perchance, Amada, she has watched the freeing of Egypt on yonder field to-day, and knows for whose sake it was done.”
“Hearken, Shabaka. I am your guerdon. Moreover as a woman I am yours. There is naught I desire so much as to feel your kiss upon me. For it and it alone I am ready to risk my spirit’s death and torment. But for you I fear. Twice have I sworn myself to this goddess and she is very jealous of those who rob her of her votaries. I fear that her curse will fall not only on me, but on you also, and not only for this life but for all lives that may be given to us. For your own sake, I pray you leave me. I hear that Pharaoh my uncle is dead or dying, and doubtless they will offer you the throne. Take it, Shabaka, for in it I ask no share. Take it and leave me to serve the goddess till my death.”