“See!” she said as she replaced it in the basket, “the spirit is departing again.... But know one thing, girl; you must do what the baetylus advised; the ‘Unknown’ do not give their counsel in vain.”
“I will do it,” replied the muffled figure sighing. “But—the other thing of which Doris told you?”
Ninus smiled.
“You haven’t seen him for ten days,” she murmured. “And you think that he has forgotten you?”
“Dear Ninus!” cried the girl, pressing her hand upon her bosom. “He is my hope, my only hope. Your spells will not harm him?”
There was such tender anxiety in the question, that Hipyllos felt an almost unconquerable desire to spring forward and clasp the young girl in his arms.
“No,” replied Ninus. “These spells will do no harm. But, since I fulfil your wishes in this, give me the ring you showed me just now.”
Clytie hastened to comply with the demand.
Ninus then drew out an article wrapped in a cloth. “This is one of his sandals,” she whispered. Scattering sulphur on the charcoal she held the sandal in the smoke, then flung salt into the flame, saying in a slow, solemn tone:
“Hi-pyl-los, Cly-ti-e!”