“If so, then can I do all you have said.”
And she ran, and embraced the old man, saying, “Patience, patience! In a little while we will have bread, and be rich. Yes,” she continued, returning to the Chalcan, “they taught me in the teocallis, where they would have had me as priestess.”
“It is good to be a priestess, Yeteve; you should have stayed there.”
“But I did so love the little hut by the causeway. And I loved the beggar, and they let me go.”
“And now you wish to sell yourself? I want slaves, but not such as you, Yeteve. I want those who can work,—slaves whom the lash will hurt, but not kill. Besides, you are worth more cocoa than I can spare. Keep back your tears. I will do better than buy you myself. I will sell you, and to-night. Here in my house you shall dance for the bidders. I know them all. He shall be brave and rich and clever who buys,—clever and brave, and the owner of a palace, full of bread for the beggar, and love for Yeteve.”
Clapping his hands, a slave appeared at the door.
“Take yon beggar, and give him to eat. Lead him,—he is blind. Come, child, follow me.”
He summoned his servants, and bade them publish the sale in every apartment; then he led the girl to the hall used for the exhibition of his own dancing-girls. It was roomy and finely lighted; the floor was of polished marble; a blue drop-curtain extended across the northern end, in front of which were rows of stools, handsomely cushioned, for spectators. Music, measured for the dance, greeted the poor priestess, and had a magical effect upon her; her eyes brightened, a smile played about her mouth. Never was the chamber of the rich Chalcan graced by a creature fairer or more devoted.
“A priestess of the dance needs no teaching from me,” said Xoli, patting her flushed cheek. “Get ready; they are coming. Beware of the marble; and when I clap my hands, begin.”
She looked around the hall once; not a point escaped her. Springing to the great curtain, and throwing her robe away, she stood before it in her simple attire; and no studied effect of art could have been more beautiful; motionless and lovely, against the relief of the blue background, she seemed actually spirituelle.