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I bade ye ask Lysia, . ." and all at once he sat bolt upright, his face crimsoning as with an access of passion.. "Ask Lysia!" he repeated loudly.. "Ask her why the mighty Zephoranim creeps in and out the Sacred Temple at midnight like a skulking slave instead of a King! ... at midnight, when he should be shut within his palace walls, playing the fool among his women!
The reason of this however was soon apparent, they were in the place reserved for the King and the immediate officers of the Royal Household, and scarcely had the sweet vibration of that clear trumpet-blast died away, when Zephoranim himself appeared, walking slowly and majestically in the midst of a select company of his nobles and courtiers.
His bold attitude was magnificent, his countenance more than beautiful in its love betrayed despair, . . and for a moment the savage Zephoranim paused irresolute, his scowling brows bent on his erstwhile favorite Minstrel with an expression that hovered curiously between bitterest enmity and reluctant reverence.
"Thou art a wolfish, youth, and wouldst tear thine own brother to shreds if he thwarted thy pleasure! For myself I see little cause for astonishment, that a soldier-hero like Zephoranim should take some pity on so frail and aged a wreck of human wit as Khosrul. Khosrul blasphemes the Faith, . . what then? ... do ye not all blaspheme?" "Not in the open streets!" said Ormaz hastily.
He endeavored to grope his way to Sah-luma's side, and just then lights appeared, . . lights that were not of earth's kindling, . . strange, wandering flames that danced and flitted along the tapestried walls like will-o'-the- wisps on a dark morass, and flung a ghastly blue glare on the pale, uneasy faces of the scared people, till gathering in a sort of lurid ring round the throne, they outlined in strong relief the enraged, Titanesque figure of Zephoranim whose upraised sword looked in itself like an arrested flash of lightning.
Not Zephoranim, believe me! ... his enforced humility on all occasions of public religious observance serves him merely as a new channel wherein to proclaim his pride. Certes, in obedience to the Priests, or rather let us say in obedience to the High Priestess, he paces the common foot-path in company with the common folk, uncrowned and simply clad, but what avails this affectation of meekness?
These little potentates that wield earth's sceptres are as fickle in their moods as the very mob they are supposed to govern, . . moreover, thou knowest Zephoranim hath had enough to-day to startle him out of all accustomed rules of courtesy.
On their way they were overtaken by the King's chariot, it flew by with a glittering whirl and clatter, amid sweeping clouds of dust, through which the dark face of Zephoranim loomed out upon them like an almost palpable shadow. As it vanished Sah-luma stopped short, and stared at his companion in utter amazement. "By my soul!" he exclaimed indignantly.. "The whole world must he going mad!
Therefore he made no answer, . . only a deep, half-smothered sigh broke from him, and Zephoranim apparently touched by his dejection continued good-naturedly: "Nay, nay! we will not seek to pry into the cause of thy spirit's heaviness...Enough! think no more of our thoughtless question, there is a sacredness in sorrow!
The figure of Elzear looked scarcely more substantial than the phantom-forms of Sah-luma, Zephoranim, Khosrul, Zuriel, or Zabastes, while Lysia's exquisite face and seductive form, Niphrata's pensive beauty, and all the local characteristics of the place, were stamped on the dreamer's memory as faithfully as scenes flashed by the sun on the plates of photography!
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