“Goddess! Not on us!” now sobbed many voices. “Goddess, not on us! If thou wreakest vengeance, Goddess, spare our lives!”
“To the Temple!” was the rallying-cry arising from one despairing throat.
“Open the gates for us!”
“To the Temple! To the Temple!” repeated all the other women.
At this juncture, a new eddy convulsed the surging multitude. Without daring to cast another look at the dead woman, stretched out on her back on the ground, her eyes upturned and her arms thrown back, all the courtesans in one great mob, black women and white, those of the East and the West, some in sumptuous robes and others in vague nudity, scampered through the trees, rushing across glades, paths, and roads; swarming into the vast open spaces in front of the houses, until they mounted the gigantic pink marble staircase that gleamed deeply red in the light of coming day. With their weak clenched fists, they battered the lofty bronze doors, squalling childishly:
“Open the gates for us! Open! Let us in!”
III
THE CROWD
The morning the orgie at Bacchis’s came to an end an event took place at Alexandria: rain fell.
Immediately, contrarily to what usually happens in countries less African, everybody went out to welcome the shower.