And Saronia took the face bestrewn with golden hair between her jewelled hands, and passionately kissed the trembling lips of the daughter of Lucius.
Then she led the fated woman to the cave, and left her.
The great doors flew back like the jaws of death, and in a moment or two sounds of weeping were heard, and the people turned away. Full well they knew the syrinx had fallen, and Nika was gone—for ever.
CHAPTER XXXVI
REVERIE
The passing of Nika spoke strongly to Saronia. She had lived with her, served with her, felt the keen injustice of her nature, and now the end had come.
Had it been woman against woman, she would not have crushed the Roman; but it was not so. It was a woman in conflict with the goddess. Saronia had been powerless to help, and dared not question the vengeance of Hecate.
She sympathized with Lucius, her old master, always kind; pictured him returning to Ephesus, hastening to his home on the Coressian hill, expecting loving greeting, hearing the dreadful death of his only child from a broken-hearted wife. She saw the tears streaming down the face of the weather-beaten mariner, and watched the wrecked soul as it looked out through the lustreless eyes.
It was horrible to think of all this, and to dwell on the thought that question after question would arise in his mind why the Fates did not sooner bring him home that he might have saved her—fought for her, if need be; and, above all, why did not Saronia protect her against the power of the Roman, Proconsul though he was? He would revert back to the time when he saw her at the altar steps looking sweetly on him and his sailors when they came to pray.
All the agony of Lucius came before her, and her spirit was clouded with gloom.