With a faint shriek, Eudora sprung forward, and threw herself at his feet. She would have clasped his knees, but he involuntarily recoiled from her touch, and gathered the folds of his robe about him.
Then the arrow entered deeply into her heart, She rested her burning forehead against the marble pillar, and said, in tones of agonized entreaty, "I never met him but once."
Philothea, who during this scene had wept like an infant, laid her hand beseechingly on his arm, and added, "Son of Chærilaüs, remember that was the only interview."
Philæmon shook his head mournfully, as he replied, "But I cannot forget that it was an appointed one.—We can never meet again."
He turned hastily to leave the room; but lingered on the threshold, and looked back upon Eudora with an expression of unutterable sadness.
Philothea perceived the countenance of her unhappy friend grow rigid beneath his gaze. She hastened to raise her from the ground whereon she knelt, and received her senseless in her arms.
Chapter IX.
Fare thee well, perfidious maid!
My soul,—its fondest hopes betrayed,
Betrayed, perfidious girl, by thee,—
Is now on wing for liberty.
I fly to seek a kindlier sphere,
Since thou hast ceased to love me here.ANACREON.
Not long after the parting interview with Eudora, Philæmon, sad and solitary, slowly wended his way from Athens. As he passed along the banks of the Illyssus, he paused for a moment, and stood with folded arms, before the chaste and beautiful little temple of Agrotera, the huntress with the unerring bow.
The temple was shaded by lofty plane trees, and thickly intertwined willows, among which transparent rivulets glided in quiet beauty; while the marble nymphs, with which the grove was adorned, looked modestly down upon the sparkling waters, as if awe-stricken by the presence of their sylvan goddess.