CHAPTER II

THE GROVE OF BAALTIS

At length, as the two men sat thus silently, for the place and its
gloom oppressed them, a sound broke upon the quiet of the night, that
beginning with a low wail such as might come from the lips of a mourner,
ended in a chant or song. The voice, which seemed close at hand, was
low, rich and passionate. At times it sank almost to a sob, and at
times, taking a higher note, it thrilled upon the air in tones that
would have been shrill were they not so sweet.

"Who is it that sings?" said Aziel to Metem.

"Be silent, I pray you," whispered the other in his ear; "we have
wandered into one of the sacred groves of Baaltis, which it is death
for men to enter save at the appointed festivals, and a priestess of the
grove chants her prayer to the goddess."

"We did not come of our own will, so doubtless we shall be forgiven,"
answered Aziel indifferently; "but that song moves me. Tell me the words
of it, which I can scarcely follow, for her accent is strange to me."

"Prince, they seem to be holy words to which I have little right to
hearken. The priestess sings an ancient hallowed chant of life and
death, and she prays that the goddess may touch her soul with the wing
of fire and make her great and give her vision of things that have been
and that shall be. More I dare not tell you now; indeed I can barely
hear, and the song is hard to understand. Crouch down, for the moon
rises, and pray that the mules may not stir. Presently she will go, and