"Amidst death-like silence four Priests advanced, two carrying chains of gold, and two with some kind of vestments; and these they placed on a low table near, and then stood behind us, still and silent as the rest. Volinè clasped my hand in terror, but she seemed too frightened to speak, and tears were coursing down her white lovely face! "'My son, our holy Priests shall pray that God mayest give thee strength unto the measure of thy woe. Meantime, these men will take thee and prepare thee for thy fiery trial.' "As soon as these words were finished, the four Priests stepped forward and bade me follow them. They took me across the wide floor of the Temple into a smaller chamber; and there I was divested of my garments, and draped in a priestly robe. Then the chains were fastened around my wrists, and I was given a draught of some sweet and volatile liquid from a goblet of crystal, before being conducted back to Echri's throne. Volinè was sobbing loudly; but I felt brave, endowed with a new-found strength, and stood calmly waiting for the end to come. "'Dost thou still desire to proceed through this ordeal, man of Ramos?' said Echri, in a solemn tone. 'Hath thou still the inclination to wed this gracious lady, the daughter of our King, by such means as have already been explained to thee?' "'I am ready,' I answered in a firm, unfaltering voice, with my arms extended towards him, draped in their manacles of gold. 'Fuse us in your Fire, O Holy Priest! Weld our souls together upon the altar-anvil of your strange mysterious faith! Make our two loving hearts but one! I am ready to brave your fiery ordeal, e'en pass through the glowing furnace of your wondrous creed, to reach my wedded bliss.' "Here Volinè, by a great effort, composed herself to speak, and turning round, she looked at me in a tender, supplicating way, saying: "'Oh, Harry! Harry! My love for thee is strong, yet my poor heart falters before Echri's sacred furnace. Alas! Alas! my courage fails me! My dear one, my brave one, I am not worthy of such love as thine. Leave me. Return unto thine own people. Spare thyself this agony of Fire. Return, I bid thee, and be safe.' "'Nay, Volinè, speak not so! for your words wound me worse than that fire I now yearn to pass through to reach the full measure of my joy. Courage, darling, courage! as beseems a daughter of your noble, peerless race! I wait but Echri's word to enter yon Shrine of Fire. He will unite our hearts together; for all things to him seem possible,' I answered, bowing reverently before the throne on which Echri sat unmoved at Volinè's sorrow, solemn and still as though carved in marble, patiently waiting to complete what I deemed the spiritual portion of our strange betrothal.