"Take her up to Ashtoreth!" she said, pointing from the girl to the stone altar.
Now at last Charmides understood, and he turned white with wrath. For an instant he let his eyes rest in utter scorn, utter disgust, upon the three women in front of him. Then he hurled at them a Greek phrase, fortunately incomprehensible to the multitude. Lastly, unheeding the look of abject terror that was overspreading the face of the girl, he turned upon his heel and began to walk rapidly down the long hall to the door.
By this time the chant had given place to a rising chorus of astonishment and wrath on the part of the men, and of woe on the side of the women. Still the Greek, absorbed in his own displeasure, kept on his way, and would presently have been outside the building, when Kabir, darting from the throng, seized him roughly by the shoulders.
"Charmides! Thou fool! What do you?"
The rhapsode, frowning angrily, tried to shake off his companion, but Kabir's hands were strong.
"Know you, I say, what you do?"
Charmides turned upon him. "I will not dishonor her, neither myself!" he said, in a voice husky with repression.
"Dishonor—in the rites of Ashtoreth! Nay, you would kill her, rather, then?"
Charmides shrugged.
"You have refused her after the presentation. That is a sign that she is displeasing to the goddess. She will now be offered up upon the altar of death. Her blood must wash away the shame you put on her. Her heart will be cut out and thrown to the dogs to eat."