“I came to this land,” went on Noot, “but Kallikrates, the Greek captain who was a priest of Isis, never reached it. He was lost on the way.”
“With another, my Father. But now I have heard that story from Philo.”
“With another who caused him to break his vows. Be sure, Daughter, that I knew nothing of her plot or that she was hidden aboard the ship, though perchance Philo knew. The goddess hid it from me, doubtless for her own purposes.”
“Are this pair dead, or do they still live, my Father?”
“I cannot say; that also is hidden from me. Better for them if they are dead, since soon or late for such sacrilege vengeance will fall upon the head of one, if not of both of them. Peace be to them. May they be forgiven! At least as I think they loved each other much and, since love is very strong, all who have ever loved where they ought not should have pity on them,” and again his questioning eyes played upon my face.
CHAPTER XIX
The Hermitage of Noot
“Tell me of what has passed in Egypt since Ochus conquered and Nectanebes fled away. Does Ochus still live, Daughter?” asked Noot after a pause during which both of us had sat staring at the ground.
“Nay, Father, Ochus is dead and by my hand, or through it,” and I told him all that story of the burning of the temple of Isis at my command and of the Persians who defiled it.
“A great deed such as you alone could have planned,” he muttered, “but terrible, terrible!”
“Then your soul must bear its burden, Prophet, since it was your voice that we heard in the sanctuary, when in our extreme we prayed for guidance, and it told us to go forward. There are those with me who can bear witness that they heard your very voice, as I do.”