ded, "Oh, return not there where
I shall lose you. If, indeed, you love me, I pray you return not there."

Before he could answer, a sound of singing and of all sorts of music
caught Aziel's ear. Looking through the casement, he saw a great
procession of the priests and priestesses of El and Baaltis clad in
their festal robes and accompanied by many dignitaries of the city, a
multitude of people and bands of musicians, advancing across the square
towards the door of the palace.

"Why, what passes?" he exclaimed. As he spoke the door opened and two
richly arrayed heralds, wands of office in their hands, entered and
prostrated themselves before Elissa.

"Greeting to you, most noble and blessed lady, the chosen of the gods!"
they cried with one voice. "Prepare, we beseech you, to hear glad
tidings, and to receive those who are sent to tell them."

"Glad tidings?" said Elissa. "Has Ithobal then withdrawn his suit?"

"Nay, lady; it is not of Ithobal that the messengers come to speak."

"Then I cannot receive them," she said, sinking back in apprehension. "I
am still ill and weak, and I pray to be excused."

"Nay, lady," answered the herald, "that which they have to tell will
cure your sickness."

Again Elissa protested. Before the words had left her lips there
appeared in the doorway he who had been husband of the dead Baaltis,
followed by priests and priestesses, by Sakon her father, with whom was
Metem, and many other nobles and dignitaries.

"All hail, lady!" they cried, prostrating themselves before her. "All
hail, lady, chosen of the gods!"

Elissa looked at them bewildered.

"Your pardon," she said, "I do not understand."

Then, rising from his knees, he who was still the Shadid until his
successor was appointed, addressed her as spokesman.

"Listen," he said, "and learn, lady, the great thing that has befallen
you. Know, O divine One, that by the inspiration of El and Baaltis,
rulers of the heavens, the colleges of the priests and priestesses of
the city, following the voice of the oracles and the pointing of the
omens, have set you in that high place which death has emptied. Greeting
to you, holder of the spirit of the goddess! Greeting to the Baaltis!"

"I did not seek this honour," she murmured in the silence that followed,
"and I refuse it. The throne of the goddess is Mesa's right; let her
take it, or if she will not, then find some other woman who is more
worthy."

"Lady," said the Shadid, "the