'What think I? That the people who worship her are in earnest. They believe what is told them. Their forefathers did the same. It was good enough for them, so they follow—follow like dogs their master. Now and again those with keener insight step aside and utter protest, sniffing danger. Most of them are whipped into their place again, and all goes on as before.... The priests know their work, and are clever. The people may believe the myths and accept them as truths, but their teachers know they are fables, and use them as such to illustrate their faith.
'The worship is one of the senses—ours is spiritual, and needs a spiritual sight only to know as much of God as the soul of man can comprehend. A dreary shore with the great darkness around is to the Christian a temple filled with light. Thou hast friends amongst the worshippers of Diana, Chios?'
'Yes, one especially. She who gave me back my life—the great High Priestess Saronia.'
'Saronia, the High Priestess! I know her. When thou offeredst thy life to preserve mine, I saw her save thee from the lion.'
'What meanest thou?'
'She killed the lion's strength. One look from her could quell many such beasts. Her gaze would stay an eagle in its flight, and bring it earthward to her feet, swifter and surer than an arrow winged with lightning. She is deadly with her power! A mighty foe to those within her sphere, but with a follower of my Master she is powerless. The least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than she, and thou, Chios, art greater than the mighty Saronia. The Spirit which leads thee is the first, the greatest, the Lord of Hosts. All principalities and powers are beneath Him. Before His gaze the rebel prince fell like lightning from heaven.
'Listen, friend; I think I read thine heart. Thou lovest this terrific being—is it not so? Tell me. Thy secret shall be well kept. I may help thee.'
'Thou speakest truly. I know I am safe in thine hands. I trust thee to lead the way for my eternal good, and I may confide this portion of my life's history to thee. 'Tis a passion which may never be realized, but I dare hope she may be won for our God—and what a mighty spirit for good she would be!'
'Chios, her great spirit is of no common order. It has lived through the ages, and for the time is deeply buried in its prison of clay. We will awaken her, if we can, from out the cold and damp mists which surround her. This clay form to her is as Hades.'
'How can it be done?'