'Who art thou?' said the chief of the priests.
The girl looked beseechingly at him, and said:
'I am the slave of the Roman Venusta, whose home is on the Mount Coressus. Faithfully have I served her, and would have continued but for her cruelty. Before I saw this city my home was Sidon, in Phœnicia. There also I was a slave as far back as my memory serves me. Who I am I know not——'
'What is thy name?'
'Saronia; and hither have I fled to throw myself on the mercy of the goddess, with the hope that I may serve her.'
Then answered he of the Megalobyzi:
'Thou speakest plainly, and we will inquire into the matter;' and, turning to a priestess standing near, he requested her to protect the girl and give her food.
The young priestess was of exquisite beauty, and her face beamed with rarest charity. Her voice was full of sweetness as she said:
'Maiden, lean on my arm, and let me lead thee to thy rest;' and Saronia heard the chanting of the morning hymn, and felt she had reached her goal—the dearest to her heart.