For one instant a lurid anger blazed in her face,—­the next her features hardened themselves into a rigidly cold expression of disdain, though her eyes widened with wrathful wonder.  A low laugh broke from her lips.

“Ah!” she cried—­“Art thou angel or demon that thou darest defy me?  Thou shouldst be either or both, to array thyself in opposition against the High Priestess of Nagaya, whose relentless Will hath caused empires to totter and thrones to fall!  His life a glory to the world? ...” and she pointed to Sah-luma’s recumbent figure with a gesture of loathing and contempt, . .  “His? ... the life of a drunken voluptuary? ... a sensual egotist? ... a poet who sees no genius save his own, and who condemns all vice, save that which he himself indulges in!  A laurelled swine! ... a false god of art! ... and for him thou dost reject Me! ... ah, thou fool!” and her splendid eyes shot forth resentful fire..  “Thou rash, unthinking, headstrong fool! thou knowest not what thou hast lost!  Aye, guard thy friend as thou wilt,—­thou dost guard him at thine own peril! ... think not that he, . . or thou, ... shall escape my vengeance!  What!—­dost thou play the heroic with me? ... thou who art Man, and therefore no hero? ...  For men are cowards all, except when in the heat of battle they follow the pursuit of their own brief glory! ... poltroons and knaves in spirit, incapable of resisting their own passions! ... and wilt thou pretend to be stronger than the rest? ...  Wilt thou take up arms against thyself and Destiny?  Thou madman!”—­and her lithe form quivered with concentrated rage—­“Thou puny wretch that dost first clutch at, and then refuse my love!—­thou who dost oppose thy miserable force to the Fate that hunts thee down!—­thou who dost gaze at me with such grave, child-foolish eyes! ...  Beware, . . beware of me!  I hate thee as I hate all men! ...  I will humble thee as I have humbled the proudest of thy sex! ..—­wheresoever thou goest I will track thee out and torture thee! ... and thou shalt die—­miserably, lingeringly, horribly,—­as I would have every man die could I fulfil my utmost heart’s desire!  To-night, be free! ... but to-morrow as thou livest, I will claim thee!”

Like an enraged Queen she stood,—­one white, jewelled arm stretched forth menacingly,—­her bosom heaving, and her face aflame with wrath, but Theos, leaning against Sah-luma’s couch, heard her with as much impassiveness as though her threatening voice were but the sound of an idle wind.  Only, when she ceased, he turned his untroubled gaze calmly and full upon her,—­and then,—­to his own infinite surprise she shivered and shrank backwards, while over her countenance flitted a vague, undefinable, almost spectral expression of terror.  He saw it, and swift words came at once to his lips,—­words that uttered themselves without premeditation.