He knew that it was possible to take sixty steps in a straight line and then it was necessary to advance by feeling the wall to save falling down the subterranean staircase of the temple.
The coolness of this deep passage gradually calmed him. In a few minutes he reached the end of it, ascended steps and opened the door.
The night was clear in the open, but black in the holy place. When he had cautiously closed the heavy door, he felt himself to be trembling as if he had been gripped by the coldness of the stones. He dared not lift his eyes. The black silence terrified him; the darkness seemed to him alive with the unknown. He put his hand to his brow like a man who did not desire to awaken lest he might find himself alive. At last he had the courage to look.
In a gleam of bright moonlight the Goddess was visible upon a pedestal of red stone loaded with hanging treasures. She was naked and tenderly tinted like a woman; in one hand she held her mirror and with the other she was adorning her beauty with a necklace of seven rows of pearls. A pearl, larger than the rest, long and silvery, gleamed at her breast like a crescent. These were the actual holy pearls.
Demetrios was lost in ineffable adoration. He believed in truth that Aphrodite herself was there. He could no longer recognize his own work, so deep was the abyss between that which it used to be and had become. He extended his arms and murmured the mysterious words by which the Goddess is addressed in the Phrygian ceremonies.
Supernatural, luminous, immaculate, nude and pure the vision seemed to hover over the stone pedestal softly palpitating. He fixed his eyes upon it, though he feared that the caress of his gaze would make this feeble hallucination vanish in the air. He advanced slowly and touched with his finger the rosy toe as if to assure himself of the existence of the statue, and being incapable of stopping, so great was its attraction for him, he mounted and stood by its side, placing his hands upon the white shoulders and looking into the eyes.
He trembled, he faltered and began to laugh with joy. His hands wandered over the bare arms, and he clasped the cold hard waist with all his strength. He gazed at himself in the mirror, grasped the necklace of pearls, took it off, made it gleam in the moonlight and then fearfully replaced it. He kissed the hand, the round neck, the undulating throat and the half-open marble mouth. Then he withdrew to the edge of the pedestal and gazed tenderly at the lovely bowed head.
The hair of the statue had been arranged in the oriental fashion and lightly veiled the forehead. The half-shut eyes were prolonged in a smile. The lips were separated as if vanquished by a kiss.
He silently replaced the seven rows of round pearls upon the glorious breast and descended to gaze upon the idol from a greater distance.
Then he seemed to awaken. He remembered his errand which he had up to then failed to accomplish, and realized how monstrous a project it was. He felt his blood burn to the temples.