Artemisia stood behind him, within the half-circle of priests who held back the eager crowd. Her white garments gleamed pure and spotless against the background of their sombre official robes. Her head was slightly bowed, and her hands were clasped lightly before her. She seemed utterly oblivious of her surroundings and the terrible fate that awaited her. Thais, firmly held by the priests who had brought her to the temple, was stationed by her captors on the left hand of Baal, in a position that prevented her eyes from meeting Artemisia's gaze. The angry color had faded from her cheeks. She realized at last that Artemisia was lost and that she herself must endure the agony of seeing her perish. Her face had grown haggard and drawn.
"Spare her, priest of Moloch!" she cried desperately, as Hiram ended his invocation. "Her death cannot save thy city. Give her back to me, and I promise thee thy safety and the safety of thy order. If thou needs must sacrifice a woman, let me be the victim. I am fairer than she, and I will be more acceptable to thy God. See, I beg her life at thy hands!"
She would have thrown herself upon her knees, but the priests restrained her. Hiram made no reply and paid no heed to her appeal. Ascending the steps with a firm tread, he stood between the feet of the idol and turned to the multitude, extending his hands over Artemisia's head with the palms downward. The chant ceased and the music died away. Only the frightened sobbing of the infants, whom the assistants sought in vain to quiet, broke the silence within the temple. Hiram began to speak in a solemn and impressive voice.
"We bring thee, O Lord, a maiden, pure in heart," he said. "We have sinned against thee in our pride; upon her head we place our sins; take thou her and forgive!"
He paused, and a wailing cry of supplication rose throughout the temple.
"We have neglected thy worship," Hiram went on. "Upon her head be our neglect; take her and forgive! We have done those things that are forbidden; upon her head be our disobedience to thy law; take her and accept our atonement! We have disregarded our oaths; upon her head be our perfidy; receive her in quittance of our debt to thee. Pardon us, O Lord, in this our sacrifice to thee, all our many sins against thee, and protect us out of thy mercy in this hour of our great peril!"
At the conclusion of the recital, he turned again to the God. The arms of the idol slowly sank and extended themselves until the outstretched palms were brought together before the iron knees a few feet from the floor.
"Artemisia!" the chief priest called imperatively.
With faltering steps she obeyed his command, advancing slowly until she stood before the broad palms that seemed to tremble with impatience to clasp her form. In the deadly hush of expectancy, the fierce cries of the Israelites, struggling with the soldiers outside the temple, could be distinctly heard. Hiram saw that haste was necessary if the sacrifice was to be accomplished.
"Dost thou give thyself willingly for the sins of Tyre?" he demanded, confident of his power.