, to
draw breath, to take in with his glance some wider horizon. Again he
remembered that it was the month Mesori, that a year had passed since
the maneuvers; he felt a yearning for the desert. How gladly would he
mount his light chariot drawn by two horses, and fly away to some place
where it was not so stifling, and trees did not hide the horizon!

He was at the steps of the temple, so he mounted to the platform. It
was quiet and empty there, as if all had died; but from afar the water
of a fountain was murmuring. At the second stairway he threw aside his
burnous and sword; once more he looked at the garden, as if he were
sorry to leave the moonlight behind, and entered the temple. There were
three stories above him.

The bronze doors were open; at both sides of the entrance stood winged
figures of bulls with human heads; on the faces of these was dignified
calmness.

"Those are kings of Assyria," thought the prince, looking at their
beards plaited in tiny tresses.

The interior of the temple was as black as night when 't is blackest.
The darkness was intensified more by white streaks of moonlight falling
in through narrow high windows.

In the depth of the temple two lamps were burning before the statue of
Astaroth. Some strange illumination from above caused the statue to be
perfectly visible. Ramses gazed at it. That was a gigantic woman with
the wings of an ostrich. She wore a long robe in folds; on her head was
a pointed cap, in her right hand she held a pair of doves. On her
beautiful face and in her downcast eyes was an expression of such
sweetness and innocence that astonishment seized the prince, for she
was the patroness of revenge and of license the most unbridled.

"Phoenicia has shown me one more of her secrets. A strange people,"
thought Ramses. "Their man-eating gods do not eat, and their lewdness
is guarded by virgin priestesses and by a goddess with an innocent
face."

Thereupon he felt that something had slipped across his feet quickly,
as it were a great serpent. Ramses drew back and stood in the streak of
moonlight.

"A vision!" said he to himself.

Almost at that moment he heard a whisper,

"Ramses! Ramses!"

It was impossible to discover whether that was a man's or a woman's
voice, or whence it issued.

"Ramses! Ramses!" was heard a whisper, as if from the ceiling.

The prince went to an un-illuminated place and, while looking, bent
down.

All at once he felt two delicate hand