tream, and his soul hastened downwards to the Shades. And from that
day the river Lycormas no more was known by that name, but was called
the river _Evenos_ forever.

Onwards, triumphantly, drove Idas, but soon he knew that a greater
than Evenos had entered in the chase, and that the jealous sun-god's
chariot was in pursuit of the winged car of Neptune. Quickly it gained
on him--soon it would have swept down on him--a hawk indeed, this
time, striking surely its helpless prey--but even as Apollo saw the
white face of Marpessa and knew that he was the victor, a mighty
thunderbolt that made the mountains shake, and rolled its echoes
through the lonely fastnesses of a thousand hills, was sent to earth
by Jupiter. While the echoes still re-echoed, there came from Olympus
the voice of Zeus himself.

"_Let her decide!_" he said.

Apollo, like a white flame blown backward by the wind, withheld his
hands that would have seized from Idas the woman who was his heart's
desire.

And then he spoke, and while his burning gaze was fixed upon her, and
his face, in beautiful fury, was more perfect than any exquisite
picture of her dreams, his voice was as the voice of the sea as it
calls to the shore in the moonlit hours, as the bird that sings in the
darkness of a tropic night to its longing mate.

"Marpessa!" he cried, "Marpessa! wilt thou not come to me? No woe nor
trouble, never any pain can touch me. Yet woe indeed was mine when
first I saw thy fairest face. For even now dost thou hasten to sorrow,
to darkness, to the dark-shadowed tomb. Thou art but mortal! thy
beauty is short-lived. Thy love for mortal man shall quickly fade and
die. Come to me, Marpessa, and my kisses on your lips shall make thee
immortal! Together we shall bring the sunbeams to a cold, dark land!
Together shall we coax the spring flowers from the still, dead earth!
Together we shall bring to men the golden harvest, and deck the trees
of autumn in our liveries of red and gold. I love thee, Marpessa--not
as mere mortal loves do I love thee. Come to me, Marpessa--my Love--my
Desire!"

When his voice was silent, it seemed as if the very earth itself with
all its thousand echoes still breathed his words: "Marpessa--my
Love--my Desire."

Abashed before the god's entreaties stood Idas. And the heart of
Marpessa was torn as she heard the burning words of the beautiful
Apollo still ringing through her head, and saw her mortal lover,
silent, white-lipped, gazing