Zoralin, a beautiful, dark girl, with hair as black as night, and eyes that looked as though they held suppressed yet ever burning fire, let her hands instantly drop from the instrument, and sighing, shrank back a little in abashed silence. At that moment Theos advanced,—and the Laureate sprang up delightedly:
"Ah, at last, my friend!" he cried, enthusiastically clasping him by both hands,—"Where, in the name of all the gods, hast thou been roaming? How did we part?—by my soul I forget!—but no matter!—thou art here once more, and as I live, we will not separate again so easily! My noble Theos!" and he threw one arm affectionately around his neck—"I have missed thee more than I can tell these past few hours,—thou dost seem so sympathetically conjoined with me, that verily I think I am but half myself in thine absence! Come,—sit thee down and break thy fast! … I almost feared thou hadst met with some mischance on thy way hither, and that I should have had to sally forth and rescue thee again even as I did yesternoon! Say, hast thou occupied thyself with so much friendly consideration on my behalf, as I have on thine?"
He laughed gayly as he spoke,—and Theos, looking into his bright, beautiful face, was for a moment too deeply moved by his own strange inward emotions, to utter a word in reply. WHY did he love Sah-luma so ardently, he wondered? WHY was it that every smile on that proud mouth, every glance of those flashing eyes, possessed such singular, overwhelming fascination for him? He could not tell,—but he readily yielded to the magic influence of his friend's extraordinary attractiveness, and sitting down beside him in the azure light and soft fragrance of his regal apartment, he experienced a sudden sense of rest, satisfaction, and completeness, such as may be felt by a man AT ONE WITH HIMSELF, and with all the world!
CHAPTER XXII.
WASTED PASSION.
The assembled maidens had retired modestly into the background, while the Laureate had thus joyously greeted his returned guest; but now, at a signal from their lord, they again advanced, and taking up the glittering dishes of fruit and the flasks of wine, proffered them in turn to Theos with much deferential grace and courtesy. He was by no means slow in responding to the humble attentions of these fair ones, . . there was a sort of deliciously dreamy enchantment in being waited upon by such exquisitely lovely creatures! The passing touch of their little white hands that supported the heavy golden salvers seemed to add new savor to the luscious fare,—the timorous fire of their downcast eyes, softly sparkling through the veil of their long lashes, gave extra warmth to the ambrosial wine,—and he could not refrain from occasionally whispering a tender flattery or delicate compliment in the ear of one or other of his sylph-like servitors, though they all appeared curiously unmoved by his choicely worded adulation. Now and then a pale, flickering blush or sudden smile brightened their faces, but for the most part they maintained a demure and serious demeanor, as though possessed by the very spirit of invincible reserve. With Sah-luma it was otherwise,—they hovered about him like butterflies round a rose,—a thousand wistful, passionate glances darted upon him, when he, unconscious or indifferent, apparently saw nothing,—many a deep, involuntary sigh was stifled quickly ere it could escape between the rosy lips whose duty it was to wreathe themselves with smiles, and Theos noticing these things thought:
"Heavens! how this man is loved!—and yet … he, out of all men, is perhaps the most ignorant of Love's true meaning!"
Scarcely had this reflection entered his mind than he became bitterly angry with himself for having indulged in it. How recreant, how base an idea! … how incompatible with the adoring homage he felt for his friend! What!—Sah-luma,—a Poet, whose songs of Love were so perfect, so wildly sweet and soul-entrancing—HE, to be ignorant of Love's true meaning? … Oh, impossible!—and a burning flush of shame rose to Theos's brow,—shame that he could have entertained such a blasphemy against his Idol for a moment! Then that curious, vague, soft contrition he had before experienced stole over him once again—a sudden moisture filled his eyes,—and turning abruptly toward his host he held out his own just filled goblet:
"Drink we the loving-cup together, Sah-luma!" he said, and his voice trembled a little with its own deep tenderness, . . "Pledge me thy faith as I do pledge thee mine! And for to-day at least let me enjoy thy boon companionship, . . who knows how soon we may be forced to part … forever!" And he breathed the last word softly with a faint sigh.
Sah-luma looked at him with an expressive glance of bright surprise.