'Knew her?' repeated Chios.
'Yes, recognised her—and thou. He came, as I have said, and was well-nigh upon you, when the form of Endora stood in the path. He spoke to me; he had lost the scent, did not know which way you had taken—this path or the one that branches off. He asked if I had seen a woman go this way towards the river. I answered "No." "Thou liest!" said he. "Thou knowest her whereabouts; thou knowest who she is—Saronia, the High Priestess, and Chios her lover. Speak out, hag, or I will wrest thy life from out thy vile carcase! Where is she?" Then said I: "Go thy way, man! I know not, and care less." He seized me by the throat, relaxed his hold, bade me speak, gripped it again, bruised me until I felt my life gurgling away. I knew I was not fit to die, and he—he should not murder me! He held me by the throat at arms' length, and shook me like a dog; but when he drew me towards him, I used my dagger and let out his life's blood—yes, the life-blood of a traitor!' And, turning her head from Chios, she murmured: 'The life-blood of—thy—father!'
'Endora! Endora! what hast thou done?'
'Nothing but saved my life and thine and that of the great Saronia, by killing a brute who would have had no mercy had he succeeded. I should have died, thou also, or both banished, and Saronia would have been in the power of this man, who had a passion for her.'
'He?'
'Yes, he.'
Chios stooped down, gently drawing back the mantle which had fallen over the dead man's face, when, to his horror, he discovered who the murdered man was.
Standing erect, he looked into the eyes of Endora.
'Woman, thou hast committed a frightful deed! Thou hast slain the High Priest of the Temple of Diana!'
She stood motionless, silent. Then, raising herself to her full height, she said: