Within that sanctuary, guarded by the angel of the covenant, stood Saronia, undismayed, determined, decided to serve the Son of Jehovah.
Her next step was to break away from the Temple service. Many methods came to her—one such as to leave the place without disturbance, to quietly move away; to flee; to live and breathe the fresh air, until hunted down to meet death in the arena of the great theatre of Ephesus. But to Saronia this was cowardly, and she resolved to meet her fate at once. Life to her was valueless save for the good she might do. But what greater good could she do than to openly witness for the new faith before the priests and priestesses of the great Temple of Diana, and receive the martyr's crown? It was a fitting prelude to the entrance into the great life—to the life which ended never.
She would call an assembly of the priests and priestesses, and tell them from her own lips the story of her new-born love. The time was fixed, and as it was no uncommon thing for the priests and priestesses to meet their chief in solemn assembly, no particular notice was taken of Saronia's action in calling such.
So, at eventide, when the worship for the day was over, and the sun had set, and the outer gates leading into the Temple were closed, the priests and priestesses gathered before the great altar, to listen to the voice of their beloved priestess.
The scene was one of solemn grandeur, as the priests with garments of many-coloured textures ranged themselves in crescent rows on the right of the altar as you enter the massive gates at the chief entrance. On the left of the altar, in the same manner, stood the priestesses, loveliest of the Ionian women, draped in white, yellow, rose-coloured, and azure garments, with here and there a robe of black, sacred to Hecate; whilst other maidens, flower-bearers, libation-carriers, and incense-girls, stood between the priests and priestesses, ready to place their offerings on the altar in honour of Diana.
All was ready, all were expectant, when the great High Priestess, Saronia, came forward in flowing robes of white, costly silk, and stood in all her magnificent beauty.
The offering to the goddess was soon made, but Saronia stood in silent meditation; neither had the soft cadences of sweet Ionian music from the costliest instruments any charm. Then, when their harmonies fell low and died in plaintive echoes, Saronia looked upwards through the open roof towards the circle of azure sky, until a calm, a radiant calm, o'erspread her face, making her seem like a visitant from the heavens.... During this brief pause a profound solemnity pervaded the assembly—a quietude in which even the rustle of a leaf would have seemed discord.
The people, spellbound by the force of her character and the beauty of the Priestess, held their breath and earnestly waited.