He folded them carefully, sealed them with his signet, and addressed them to the High Priestess of the Temple of Diana at Ephesus.
'That is right,' said he. 'If I fail, she will receive them.'
CHAPTER XXV
THE SACRED HOUNDS
When the night advanced, Chios went his way to the Sacred Grove of Hecate. Once near the walls surrounding it, he sprang over and was soon among the trees.
The night was still; no sound was heard save the shriek of the hawk and the cry of the hounds of the goddess.
Which way should he take? Would she come to sacrifice? What should he do—should he give up this foolhardy expedition and retrace his steps? No; a strange fascination drew him onwards. Step by step he moved forward until he drew nigh to the marble Temple of the night goddess—a lonely man amidst the great solitude, and shadowed by the lofty pines. No thunderings or voices or lightnings came from the sombre pile; a great bird wheeled by, nearly touching him, shrieking as it flew like the spirit of a wandering soul.
Whilst wondering what to do, he heard the sound of barking dogs; it came nearer, nearer still; they would soon be upon him. Escape there was none. He looked for refuge: the trees were tall and mighty, and no foothold to ascend. He hid behind the great trunk of the nearest, and was no sooner there than a pack of the fiercest hell-hounds came rushing down the gloomy way. Swiftly they came. The leaders went past him; troop after troop swept by in great masses, until they seemed to be without end.
Verily they had an object, for the foremost ones turned and were coming back towards him. Some had left the beaten track and were scouring between the trees. Evidently they had scented him, and in a second or two the foremost brute stood near him with foaming mouth and eyes of fire.
For a moment only it stood; the next it was upon Chios and received the dagger of the Greek firmly embedded in its heart. Rolling over, it uttered a dismal howl and died. Two others were upon him. He grasped his cloak, wound it around his arm over his hand and thrust it into one animal's mouth, and with one wrench dislocated its jaw. With the right hand free, he met the third and plunged his dagger into its side until it fell back goaded with pain, and in the throes of death sent forth terrific wails, at which the doors of the Temple were thrown open. A light streamed down the pathway, lighting up the fierce combat between man and beasts. The priests uttered a peculiar call, and every hound was immediately obedient; not one left its post, but drew up in a circle around Chios, preventing any chance of escape. Torches flamed, and many men came towards the place of conflict.