After the sitting was completed, she felt that she had never spent a happier day, and said:

'When may I come again?'

'To-morrow, at the same hour. I will paint thee whilst in such merry mood. Good-bye, Nika; greetings to thy mother.'

The next day, and from time to time, she came to Chios, until the painting was well-nigh finished.

One evil day she came and reclined upon her accustomed couch. Chios was absent. After a while she arose, and moved around the room. Behind a curtain of splendid tapestry, half hid, she saw a picture o'er which was thrown a screen of yellow silk. She would see the painting on the hidden panel; she would lift the veil—see the goddess. What fun she would have with Chios! Perchance 'twas some Ionian beauty or Carian girl who had smitten him suddenly. Should she risk it? Yes—no—perhaps he might come swiftly and be annoyed. So she moved away—stood still for a moment.

'See it I must. If caught, I will laugh away his censure—shine out on him in all my splendour and burn up his reproof.'

So she stepped forward and raised the yellow silk concealing the picture of Saronia as High Priestess of Diana, and as that dark, mysterious face met her gaze, she uttered a piercing shriek, and fell to the ground. Chios heard it, and rushed within. Seeing the curtain disturbed, he took in the whole position, and, darting forward, found Nika lying unconscious. He raised her and laid her on the couch. Her flowing hair had burst its bands and fallen over her shoulders. He tried to rouse her, called her name, and said: 'Chios is here, Nika, awake!' But she lay as one who was dead.

What could be done? Her bosom heaved—she was not dead—she would come to again. He could not leave her for assistance, for if she awoke and found herself alone, she might die. He knelt by her side, and chafed her hands; but it was of no avail. Just then a thought came into his mind. He would paint her as she slumbered in that death-like swoon. He seized his brushes, and quickly wrought a picture—sketchy, but true—and when it was drawn he called it 'Death.' Then came signs of awakening. Tears flowed from the half-opened eyes, and rushes of colour, like the morning sunrise, stole over her cheeks. Then the mists cleared away, and she saw Chios kneeling before her, and, with a wild, convulsive start, she fell upon his neck, crying, 'Save me! save me!'

And Chios answered:

'Thou art safe. What fearest thou?'