, exchanged a few words with
Hiram, and said to the prince with a low obeisance,

"Be pleased, lord, to come with me."

"And may the gods watch over thee, worthiness," added Hiram, as he left
him.

Ramses followed the priest. Somewhat aside from the temple, in the
thickest of the grove, was a stone bench, and perhaps a hundred rods
from it a villa of no great size at which was heard singing.

"Are people praying there?" asked the prince.

"No," answered the priest, without concealing his dislike; "at that
house assemble the worshippers of Kama, our priestess who guards the
fire before the altar of Astaroth."

"Whom does she receive today?"

"No one at any time," answered the guide, offended. "Were the priestess
of the fire not to observe her vow of chastity she would have to die."

"A cruel law," observed Ramses.

"Be pleased, lord, to wait at this bench," said the Phoenician priest,
coldly; "but on hearing three blows against the bronze plate, go to the
temple, ascend to the first platform, and thence to the purple story."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

The prince sat down on the bench, in the shadow of an olive tree, and
heard the laughter of women in the villa.

"Kama," thought he, "is a pretty name. She must be young, and perhaps
beautiful, and those dull Phoenicians threaten her with death. Do they
wish in this way to assure themselves even a few virgins in the whole
country?"

He laughed, but was sad. It was uncertain why he pitied that unknown
woman for whom love would be a passage to the grave.

"I can imagine to myself Tutmosis if he were appointed priestess of
Astaroth," thought Ramses. "He would have to die, poor fellow, before
he could light one lamp before the face of the goddess."

At that moment a flute was heard in the villa, and some one played a
plaintive air, which was accompanied by female singers, "Aha-a! aha-a!"
as in the lullaby of infants.

The flute stopped, the women were silent, and a splendid male voice was
heard, in the Greek language:

"When thy robe gleams on the terrace, the stars pale and the
nightingales cease to sing, but in my heart there is stillness like
that which is on earth when the clear dawn salutes it."

"Aha-a! aha-a!" continued the women. The flute played again.

"When Thou goest to the temple, violets surround thee in a cloud of
fragrance, butterflies circle near thy lips, palms bend their heads to
thy beauty."

"aha-a! aha-a!"

"When Thou art not before m