They had not long to wait ere another shriek, more deadly than the first, rose up towards the skies.
'Hide thee between the rushes, Saronia. I will see what it means. Stay until I return, whate'er betides.'
The priestess did as she was bidden, and Chios stole softly down the pathway until he saw Endora—the black form of the witch surrounded by the night—and at her feet lay the lifeless form of a man.
For a moment the Greek was terror-stricken, and when his breath had returned he gasped:
'Endora! Endora! what meaneth this?'
'I slew him,' replied she.
'Thou?'
'Yes, I slew him. See, my dagger reeks with blood!' and she held it aloft, pointing it upwards towards the heaven, looking like the statue of a night-fiend.
Then she spoke again:
'Had he a thousand lives, and my arm would not prove weary, I would take them all. Hear me, Chios: I stood guard for thee and Saronia. This dead man tracked her—knew her.'