Before she could answer a shriek rang through the temple.
"Deny him, Artemisia, my sister!" Thais cried. "He is a sorcerer. Do not—"
Her voice was roughly stifled by the priests, her captors, but a questioning murmur rose from the crowd.
"Answer!" Hiram said sternly, bending all the strength of his merciless will upon her.
"Artemisia! Do not answer!" cried another voice. It was the voice of a man, and it rang strong and clear, though it vibrated with anxiety. It seemed to issue from the dark recesses behind the idol. A stir of astonishment broke the spell that had imposed silence upon the worshippers. Every eye strove to pierce the gloom of the sanctuary. Hiram started, and his pallid face grew a shade paler.
"Artemisia!" came the clear voice again. "Dost thou not hear me?"
Artemisia's eyes left those of the chief priest and looked beyond him eagerly into the darkness. The mask of impassiveness faded from her face. Her lips parted.
"Clearchus!" she cried. "Where art thou? Save me! Save me!"
She threw up her arms with a despairing gesture, and sank upon the platform beneath the terrible hands that were stretched to seize her.
"Alexander! Alexander!" shouted Chares out of the darkness. "Down with the dogs!"