"Hear me, O King, Princes and People! … Whereas it has unhappily occurred, to the wonder and sorrow of many, that the holy Spouse of the divine Nagaya is delayed in her desired departure, by the unforeseen opposition and unedifying contumacy of Sah-luma, Poet Laureate of this realm; and lest it may be perchance imagined by the uninitiated, that the maiden is in any way unwilling to fulfil her glorious destiny, the High and Immaculate Priestess of the Shrine doth bid me here pronounce a respite; a brief interval wherein, if the King and the People be willing, he who is named Sah-luma shall, by virtue of his high renown, be permitted to address the Virgin-victim and ascertain her own wishes from her own lips. Injustice cannot dwell within this Sacred Temple,—and if, on trial, the maiden chooses the transitory joys of Earth in preference to the everlasting joys of the Palaces of the Sun, then in Nagaya's name shall she go free!—inasmuch as the god loves not a reluctant bride, and better no Sacrifice at all, than one that is grudgingly consummated!"
He ceased,—and Sah-luma sprang erect, his eyes sparkling, his whole demeanor that of a man unexpectedly disburdened from some crushing grief.
"Thanks be unto the benevolent destinies!" he exclaimed, flashing a quick glance of gratitude toward Lysia, . . the statuesque Lysia, on whose delicately curved lips the faintly derisive smile still lingered … "And in return for the life of my Niphrata I will give a thousand jewels rare beyond all price to deck Nagaya's tabernacle!—and I will pour libations to the Sun for twenty days and nights, in token of my heart's requital for mercy well bestowed!"
Stooping he kissed the King's hand,—whereupon at a sign from Zel, one of the priests attired in scarlet unfastened Niphrata's bound hands, and led her, as one leads a blind child, straight up to where Sah-luma and Theos stood, close beside the King, who, together with many others, stared curiously upon her. How fixed and feverishly brilliant were her large dark-blue eyes! … how set were the sensitive lines of her mouth!—how indifferent she seemed, how totally unaware of the Laureate's presence! The priest who brought her retired into the background, and she remained where he left her, quite mute and motionless. Oh, how every nerve in Theos's body throbbed with inexpressible agony as he beheld her thus! The wildest remorse possessed him, . . it was as though he looked on the dim picture of a ruin which he himself had recklessly wrought, . . and he could have groaned aloud in the horrible vagueness of his incomprehensible despair! Sah-luma caught the girl's hand, and peered into her white, still face.
"Niphrata! .. .Niphrata!" he said in a tremulous half-whisper, "I am here,—Sah-luma! … Dost thou not know me!"
She sighed, . . a long, shivering sigh,—and smiled, . . what a strange, wistful, dying smile it was! … but she made no answer.
"Niphrata!"—continued the Laureate, passionately pressing the little, cold fingers that lay so passively in his grasp.. "Look at me! … I have come to save thee! … to take thee home again, . . home to thy flowers, thy birds, thy harp, . . thy pretty chamber with its curtained nook, where thy friend Zoralin waits and weeps all day for thee! … O ye gods!—how weak am I!".. and he fiercely dashed away the drops that glistened on his black silky lashes, . . "Come with me, sweet one! …" he resumed tenderly—"Come!—Why art thou thus silent? … thou whose voice hath many a time outrivalled the music of the nightingales! Hast thou no word for me, thy lord?—Come!".. and Theos, struggling to repress his own rising tears, heard his friend's accents sink into a still lower, more caressing cadence … "Thou shalt never again have cause for grief, my Niphrata, never! … We will never part! … Listen! … am I not he whom thou lovest?"
The poor child's set mouth trembled,—her beautiful sad eyes gazed at him uncomprehendingly.
"He whom I love is not here!".. she said in tired, soft tones; "I left him, but he followed me; and now, he waits for me…yonder!".. And she turned resolutely toward the Sanctuary, as though compelled to do so by some powerful mesmeric attraction, . . "See you not how fair he is!"…and she pointed with her disengaged hand to the formidable python, through whose huge coils ran the tremors of impatient and eager breathing, . . "How tenderly his eyes behold me! … those eyes that I have worshipped so patiently, so faithfully, and yet that never lightened into love for me till now! O thou more than beloved!—How beautiful thou art, my adored one, my heart's idol!" and a look of pale exaltation lightened her features, as she fixed her wistful gaze, like a fascinated bird, on the shadowy recess whence the Serpent had emerged—"There,—there thou dost rest on a couch of fadeless roses!—how softly the moonlight enfolds thee with a radiance as of outspread wings!—I hear thy voice charming the silence! … thou dost call me by my name, . . O once poor name made rich by thy sweet utterance! Yes, my beloved, I am ready! … I come! I shall die in thy embraces, . . nay, I shall not die but sleep! … and dream a dream of love that shall last forever and ever! No more sorrow … no more tears, . . no more heartsick longings …"
Here she stopped in her incoherent speech, and strove to release her hand from Sah-luma's, her blue eyes filling with infinite anxiety and distress.