With growing disappointment he was about to make one louder call before leaving, when at his right hand an unseen valve suddenly opened, revealing a narrow private stairway hitherto unknown to him, leading from some of the many apartments of the great Temple above. A moment more, and footsteps, light but very real, were heard coming down.
A female form of enchanting beauty gracefully entered, and stood before him. Her eyes of a deep liquid blue turned towards him, her silken, blond tresses fell artlessly backward, and her features were of such loveliness as rarely comes in human mould. A white, flowing robe of exquisite softness and gauzelike lightness enveloped her form, leaving her shapely neck and shoulders fully exposed. A delicate fragrance of wild rose was borne in upon the atmosphere with her. There she stood, slender, lithe, symmetrical, radiant.
Marcius was startled.
She was neither Alethea, nor any other spirit.
“Who art thou? and why didst thou appear when I called for another?”
“This is the night for mortals, and not for spirits!” she replied sweetly. “I am one of the priestesses of the Temple, and they call me the ‘Chosen One.’ ”
“What is thy mission here?”
“Behold thou didst vainly call for some one, and I have come to charm away thy disappointment, give thee solace, and keep thee company.”
She smiled.
Marcius retreated for a step, but his gaze was fastened upon her.