minutes? Kandaules shall see that they enter into no communication with
the Egyptian."

"Kandaules must keep his eyes open, if he cares for his own life.--Go!"

Boges made a deep obeisance and left the king's apartment. He threw a few
gold pieces to the slaves who bore the torches before him. He was so very
happy. Every thing had succeeded beyond his expectations:--the fate of
Nitetis was as good as decided, and he held the life of Kandaules, his
hated colleague, in his own hands.

Cambyses spent the night in pacing up and down his apartment. By
cock-crow he had decided that Nitetis should be forced to confess her
guilt, and then be sent into the great harem to wait on the concubines.
Bartja, the destroyer of his happiness, should set off at once for Egypt,
and on his return become the satrap of some distant provinces. He did not
wish to incur the guilt of a brother's murder, but he knew his own temper
too well not to fear that in a moment of sudden anger, he might kill one
he hated so much, and therefore wished to remove him out of the reach of
his passion.

Two hours after the sun had risen, Cambyses was riding on his fiery
steed, far in front of a Countless train of followers armed with shields,
swords, lances, bows and lassos, in pursuit of the game which was to be
found in the immense preserves near Babylon, and was to be started from
its lair by more than a thousand dogs.

[The same immense trains of followers of course accompanied the
kings on their hunting expeditions, as on their journeys. As the
Persian nobility were very fond of hunting, their boys were taught
this sport at an early age. According to Strabo, kings themselves
boasted of having been mighty hunters in the inscriptions on their
tombs. A relief has been found in the ruins of Persepolis, on which
the king is strangling a lion with his right arm, but this is
supposed to have a historical, not a symbolical meaning. Similar
representations occur on Assyrian monuments. Izdubar strangling a
lion and fighting with a lion (relief at Khorsabad) is admirably
copied in Delitzsch's edition of G. Smith's Chaldean Genesis.
Layard discovered some representations of hunting-scenes during his
excavations; as, for instance, stags and wild boars among the reeds;
and the Greeks often mention the immense troops of followers on
horse and foot who attended the kings of Persia when they went
hunting. According to Xenophon, Cyrop. I. 2. II. 4. every hunter
was obliged to be armed with a bow and arrows, two lances, sword and
shield. In Firdusi's Book of Kings we read that the lasso was also
a favorite weapon. Hawking was well known to the Persians more than
900 years ago. Book of Kabus XVIII. p. 495. The boomerang was
used in catching birds as well by the Persians as by the ancient
Egyptians and the present savage tribes of New Holland.]




CHAPTER II.

The hunt was over. Waggons full of game, amongst which were several
enormous wild boars killed by the king's own hand, were driven home
behind the sports men. At the palace-gates the latter dispersed to their
several abodes, in order to exchange the simple Persian leather
hunting-costume for the splendid Median court-dress.

In the course of the day's sport Cambyses had (with difficulty
restraining his agitation) given his brother the seemingly kind order to
start the next day for Egypt in order to fetch Sappho and accompany her
to Persia. At the same time he assigned him the revenues of Bactra,
Rhagae and Sinope for the maintenance of his new household, and to his
young wife, all the duties levied from her native town Phocaea, as
pin-money.

Bartja thanked his generous brother with undisguised warmth, but Cambyses
remained cold as ice, uttered a few farewell words, and then, riding off
in pursuit of a wild ass, turned his back upon him.

On the way home from the chase the prince invited his bosom-friends
Croesus, Darius, Zopyrus and Gyges to drink a parting-cup with him.

Croesus promised to join them later, as he had promised to visit the blue
lily at the rising of the Tistarstar.

He had been to the hanging-gardens that morning early to visit Nitetis,
but had been refused entrance by the guards, and the blue lily seemed now
to offer him another chance of seeing and speaking to his beloved pupil.
He wished for this very much, as he could not thoroughly understand her
behavior the day before, and was uneasy at the strict watch set over her.

The young Achaemenidae sat cheerfully talking together in the twilight in
a shady bower in the royal gardens, cool fountains plashing round them.
Araspes, a Persian of high rank, who had been one of Cyrus's friends, had
joined them, and did full justice to the prince's excellent wine.

"Fortunate Bartja!" cried the old bachelor, "going out to a golden
country to fetch the woman you love; while I, miserable old fellow, am
blamed by everybody, and totter to my grave without wife or children to
weep for me and pray the gods to be merciful to my poor soul."

"Why think of such things?" cried Zopyrus, flourishing the wine-cup.
"There's no woman so perfect that her husband does not, at least once a
day, repent that he ever took a wife. Be merry, old friend, and remember
that it's all your own fault. If you thought a wife would make you happy,
why did not you do as I have done? I am only twenty-two years old and
have five stately wives and a troop of the most beautiful slaves in my
house."

Araspes smiled bitterly.

"And what hinders you from marrying now?" said Gyges. "You are a match
for many a younger man in appearance, strength, courage and perseverance.
You are one of the king's nearest relations too--I tell you, Araspes, you
might have twenty young and beautiful wives."

"Look after your own affairs," answered Araspes. "In your place, I
certainly should not have waited to marry till I was thirty."

"An oracle has forbidden my marrying."

"Folly? how can a sensible man care for what an oracle says? It is only
by dreams, that the gods announce the future to men. I should have
thought that your own father was example enough of the shameful way in
which those lying priests deceive their best friends."

"That is a matter which you do not understand, Araspes."

"And never wish to, boy, for you only believe in oracles because you
don't understand them, and in your short-sightedness call everything that
is beyond your comprehension a miracle. And you place more confidence in
anything that seems to you miraculous, than in the plain simple truth
that lies before your face. An oracle deceived your father and plunged
him into ruin, but the oracle is miraculous, and so you too, in perfect
confidence, allow it to rob you of happiness!"

"That is blasphemy, Araspes. Are the gods to be blamed because we
misunderstand their words?"

"Certainly: for if they wished to benefit us they would give us, with the
words, the necessary penetration for discovering their meaning. What good
does a beautiful speech do me, if it is in a foreign language that I do
not understand?"

"Leave off this useless discussion," said Darius, "and tell us instead,
Araspes, how it is that, though you congratulate every man on becoming a
bridegroom, you yourself have so long submitted to be blamed by the
priests, slighted at all entertainments and festivals, and abused by the
women, only because you choose to live and die a bachelor?"

Araspes looked down thoughtfully, then shook himself, took a long draught
from the wine-cup, and said, "I have my reasons, friends, but I cannot
tell them now."

"Tell them, tell them," was the answer.

"No, children, I cannot, indeed I cannot. This cup I drain to the health
of the charming Sappho, and this second to your good fortune, my
favorite, Darius."

"Thanks, Araspes!" exclaimed Bartja, joyfully raising his goblet to his
lips.

"You mean well, I know," muttered Darius, looking down gloomily.

"What's this, you son of Hystaspes?" cried the old man, looking more
narrowly at the serious face of the youth. "Dark looks like these don't
sit well on a betrothed lover, who is to drink to the health of his
dearest one. Is not Gobryas' little daughter the noblest of all the young
Persian girls after Atossa? and isn't she beautiful?"

"Artystone has every talent and quality that a daughter of the
Achaemenidae ought to possess," was Darius's answer, but his brow did not
clear as he said the words.

"Well, if you want more than that, you must be very hard to please."

Darius raised his goblet and looked down into the wine.

"The boy is in love, as sure as my name is Araspes!" exclaimed the elder
man.

"What a set of foolish fellows you are," broke in Zopyrus at this
exclamation. "One of you has remained a bachelor in defiance of all
Persian customs; another has been frightened out of marrying by an
oracle; Bartja has determined to be content with only one wife; and
Darius looks like a Destur chanting the funeral-service, because his
father has told him to make himself happy with the most beautiful and
aristocratic girl in Persia!"

"Zopyrus is right," cried Araspes. "Darius is ungrateful to fortune."

Bartja meanwhile kept his eyes fixed on the friend, who was thus blamed
by the others. He saw that their jests annoyed him, and feeling his own
great happiness doubly in that moment, pressed Darius's hand, saying: "I
am so sorry that I cannot be present at your wedding. By the time I come
back, I hope you will be reconciled to your father's choice."

"Perhaps," said Darius, "I may be able to show a second and even a third
wife by that time."

"'Anahita' grant it!" exclaimed Zopyrus. "The Achaemenidae would soon
become extinct, if every one were to follow such examples as Gyges and
Araspes have set us. And your one wife, Bartja, is really not worth
talking about. It is your duty to marry three wives at once, in order to
keep up your father's family--the race of Cyrus."

"I hate our custom of marrying many wives," answered Bartja. "Through
doing this, we make ourselves inferior to the women, for we expect them
to remain faithful to us all our lives, and we, who are bound to respect
truth and faithfulness above every thing else, swear inviolable love to
one woman to-day, and to another to-morrow."

"Nonsense!" cried Zopyrus. "I'd rather lose my tongue than tell a he to a
man, but our wives are so awfully deceitful, that one has no choice but
to pay them back in their own coin."

"The Greek women are different," said Bartja, "because they are
differently treated. Sappho told me of one, I think her name was
Penelope, who waited twenty years faithfully and lovingly for her
husband, though every one believed he was dead, and she had fifty lovers
a day at her house."

"My wives would not wait so long for me," said Zopyrus laughing. "To tell
the truth, I don't think I should be sorry to find an empty house, if I
came back after twenty years. For then I could take some new wives into
my harem, young and beautiful, instead of the unfaithful ones, who,
besides, would have grown old. But alas! every woman does not find some
one to run away with her, and our women would rather have an absent
husband than none at all."

"If your wives could hear what you are saying!" said Araspes.

"They would declare war with me at once, or, what is still worse,
conclude a peace with one another."

"How would that be worse?"

"How? it is easy to see, that you have had no experience."

"Then let us into the secrets of your married life."

"With pleasure. You can easily fancy, that five wives in one house do not
live quite so peacefully as five doves in a cage; mine at least carry on
an uninterrupted, mortal warfare. But I have accustomed myself to that,
and their sprightliness even amuses me. A year ago, however, they came to
terms with one another, and this day of peace was the most miserable in
my life."

"You are jesting."

"No, indeed, I am quite in earnest. The wretched eunuch who had to keep
watch over the five, allowed them to see an old jewel-merchant from Tyre.
Each of them chose a separate and expensive set of jewels. When I came
home Sudabe came up and begged for money to pay for these ornaments. The
things were too dear, and I refused. Every one of the five then came and
begged me separately for the money; I refused each of them point blank
and went off to court. When I came back, there were all my wives weeping
side by side, embracing one another and calling each other
fellow-sufferers. These former enemies rose up against me with the most
touching unanimity, and so overwhelmed me with revilings and threats that
I left the room. They closed their doors against me. The next morning the
lamentations of the evening before were continued. I fled once more and
went hunting with the king, and when I came back, tired, hungry and
half-frozen--for it was in spring, we were already at Ecbatana, and the
snow was lying an ell deep on the Orontes--there was no fire on the
hearth and nothing to eat. These noble creatures had entered into an
alliance in order to punish me, had put out the fire, forbidden the cooks
to do their duty and, which was worse than all--had kept the jewels! No
sooner had I ordered the slaves to make a fire and prepare food, than the
impudent jewel-dealer appeared and demanded his money. I refused again,
passed another solitary night, and in the morning sacrificed ten talents
for the sake of peace. Since that time harmony and peace among my beloved
wives seems to me as much to be feared as the evil Divs themselves, and I
see their little quarrels with the greatest pleasure."

"Poor Zopyrus!" cried Bartja.

"Why poor?" asked this five-fold husband. "I tell you I am much happier
than you are. My wives are young and charming, and when they grow old,
what is to hinder me from taking others, still handsomer, and who, by the
side of the faded beauties, will be doubly charming. Ho! slave--bring
some lamps. The sun has gone down, and the wine loses all its flavor when
the table is not brightly lighted."

At this moment the voice of Darius, who had left the arbor and gone out
into the garden, was heard calling: "Come and hear how beautifully the
nightingale is singing."

"By Mithras, you son of Hystaspes, you must be in love," interrupted
Araspes. "The flowery darts of love must have entered the heart of him,
who leaves his wine to listen to the nightingale."

"You are right there, father," cried Bartja. "Philomel, as the Greeks
call our Gulgul, is the lovers' bird among all nations, for love has
given her her beautiful song. What beauty were you dreaming of, Darius,
when you went out to listen to the nightingale?"

"I was not dreaming of any," answered he. "You know how fond I am of
watching the stars, and the Tistar-star rose so splendidly to-night, that
I left the wine to watch it. The nightingales were singing so loudly to
one another, that if I had not wished to hear them I must have stopped my
ears."

"You kept them wide open, however," said Araspes laughing. "Your
enraptured exclamation proved that."

"Enough of this," cried Darius, to whom these jokes were getting
wearisome. "I really must beg you to leave off making allusions to
matters, which I do not care to hear spoken of."

"Imprudent fellow!" whispered the older man; "now you really have
betrayed yourself. If you were not in love, you would have laughed
instead of getting angry. Still I won't go on provoking you--tell me what
you have just been reading in the stars."

At these words Darius looked up again into the starry sky and fixed his
eyes on a bright constellation hanging over the horizon. Zopyrus watched
him and called out to his friends, "Something important must be happening
up there. Darius, tell us what's going on in the heavens just now."

"Nothing good," answered the other. "Bartja, I have something to say to
you alone."

"Why to me alone? Araspes always keeps his own counsel, and from the rest
of you I never have any secrets."

"Still--"

"Speak out."

"No, I wish you would come into the garden with me."

Bartja nodded to the others, who were still sitting over their wine, laid
his hand on Darius' shoulder and went out with him into the bright
moonlight. As soon as they were alone, Darius seized both his friend's
hands, and said: "To-day is the third time that things have happened in
the heavens, which bode no good for you. Your evil star has approached
your favorable constellation so nearly, that a mere novice in astrology
could see some serious danger was at hand. Be on your guard, Bartja, and
start for Egypt to-day; the stars tell me that the danger is here on the
Euphrates, not abroad."

"Do you believe implicitly in the stars?"

"Implicitly. They never lie."

"Then it would be folly to try and avoid what they have foretold."

"Yes, no man can run away from his destiny; but that very destiny is like
a fencing-master--his favorite pupils are those who have the courage and
skill to parry his own blows. Start for Egypt to-day, Bartja."

"I cannot--I haven't taken leave of my mother and Atossa."

"Send them a farewell message, and tell Croesus to explain the reason of
your starting so quickly."

"They would call me a coward."

"It is cowardly to yield to any mortal, but to go out of the way of one's
fate is wisdom."

"You contradict yourself, Darius. What would the fencing-master say to a
runaway-pupil?"

"He would rejoice in the stratagem, by which an isolated individual tried
to escape a superior force."

"But the superior force must conquer at last.--What would be the use of
my trying to put off a danger which, you say yourself, cannot be averted?
If my tooth aches, I have it drawn at once, instead of tormenting and
making myself miserable for weeks by putting off the painful operation as
a coward or a woman would, till the last moment. I can await this coming
danger bravely, and the sooner it comes the better, for then I shall have
it behind me."

"You do not know how serious it is."

"Are you afraid for my life?"

"No."

"Then tell me, what you are afraid of."

"That Egyptian priest with whom I used to study the stars, once cast your
horoscope with me. He knew more about the heavens, than any man I ever
saw. I learnt a great deal from him, and I will not hide from you that
even then he drew my attention to dangers that threaten you now."

"And you did not tell me?"

"Why should I have made you uneasy beforehand? Now that your destiny is
drawing near, I warn you."

"Thank you,--I will be careful. In former times I should not have
listened to such a warning, but now that I love Sappho, I feel as if my
life were not so much my own to do what I like with, as it used to be."

"I understand this feeling . . ."

"You understand it? Then Araspes was right? You don't deny?"

"A mere dream without any hope of fulfilment."

"But what woman could refuse you?"

"Refuse!"

"I don't understand you. Do you mean to say that you--the boldest
sportsman, the strongest wrestler--the wisest of all the young
Persians--that you, Darius, are afraid of a woman?"

"Bartja, may I tell you more, than I would tell even to my own father?"

"Yes."

"I love the daughter of Cyrus, your sister and the king's, Atossa."

"Have I understood you rightly? you love Atossa? Be praised for this, O
ye pure Amescha cpenta! Now I shall never believe in your stars again,
for instead of the danger with which they threatened me, here comes an
unexpected happiness. Embrace me, my brother, and tell me the whole
story, that I may see whether I can help you to turn this hopeless dream,
as you call it, into a reality."

"You will remember that before our journey to Egypt, we went with the
entire court from Ecbatana to Susa. I was in command of the division of
the "Immortals" appointed to escort the carriages containing the king's
mother and sister, and his wives. In going through the narrow pass which
leads over the Orontes, the horses of your mother's carriage slipped. The
yoke to which the horses were harnessed broke from the pole, and the
heavy, four-wheeled carriage fell over the precipice without obstruction.

[There was a yoke at the end of the shaft of a Persian carriage,
which was fastened on to the backs of the horses and took the place
of our horse-collar and pole-chain.]

On seeing it disappear, we were horrified and spurred our horses to the
place as quickly as possible. We expected of course to see only fragments
of the carriages and the dead bodies of its inmates, but the gods had
taken them into their almighty protection, and there lay the carriage,
with broken wheels, in the arms of two gigantic cypresses which had taken
firm root in the fissures of the slate rocks, and whose dark tops reached
up to the edge of the carriage-road.

"As quick as thought I sprang from my horse and scrambled down one of the
cypresses. Your mother and sister stretched their arms to me, crying for
help. The danger was frightful, for the sides of the carriage had been so
shattered by the fall, that they threatened every moment to give way, in
which case those inside it must inevitably have fallen into the black,
unfathomable abyss which looked like an abode for the gloomy Divs, and
stretched his jaws wide to crush its beautiful victims.

"I stood before the shattered carriage as it hung over the precipice
ready to fall to pieces every moment, and then for the first time I met
your sister's imploring look. From that moment I loved her, but at the
time I was much too intent on saving them, to think of anything else, and
had no idea what had taken place within me. I dragged the trembling women
out of the carriage, and one minute later it rolled down the abyss
crashing into a thousand pieces. I am a strong man, but I confess that
all my strength was required to keep myself and the two women from
falling over the precipice until ropes were thrown to us from above.
Atossa hung round my neck, and Kassandane lay on my breast, supported by
my left arm; with the right I fastened the rope round my waist, we were
drawn up, and I found myself a few minutes later on the high-road--your
mother and sister were saved.

"As soon as one of the Magi had bound up the wounds cut by the rope in my
side, the king sent for me, gave me the chain I am now wearing and the
revenues of an entire satrapy, and then took me to his mother and sister.
They expressed their gratitude very warmly; Kassandane allowed me to kiss
her forehead, and gave me all the jewels she had worn at the time of the
accident, as a present for my future wife. Atossa took a ring from her
finger, put it on mine and kissed my hand in the warmth of her
emotion--you know how eager and excitable she is. Since that happy
day--the happiest in my life--I have never seen your sister, till
yesterday evening, when we sat opposite to each other at the banquet. Our
eyes met. I saw nothing but Atossa, and I think she has not forgotten the
man who saved her. Kassandane . . ."

"Oh, my mother would be delighted to have you for a son-in-law; I will
answer for that. As to the king, your father must apply to him; he is our
uncle and has a right to ask the hand of Cyrus's daughter for his son."

"But have you forgotten your father's dream? You know that Cambyses has
always looked on me with suspicion since that time."

"Oh, that has been long forgotten. My father dreamt before his death that
you had wings, and was misled by the soothsayers into the fancy that you,
though you were only eighteen then, would try to gain the crown. Cambyses
thought of this dream too; but, when you saved my mother and sister,
Croesus explained to him that this must have been its fulfilment, as no
one but Darius or a winged eagle could possibly have possessed strength
and dexterity enough to hang suspended over such an abyss."

"Yes, and I remember too that these words did not please your brother. He
chooses to be the only eagle in Persia; but Croesus does not spare his
vanity--"

"Where can Croesus be all this time?"

"In the hanging-gardens. My father and Gobryas have very likely detained
him."

Just at that moment the voice of Zopyrus was heard exclaiming, "Well, I
call that polite! Bartja invites us to a wine-party and leaves us sitting
here without a host, while he talks secrets yonder."

"We are coming, we are coming," answered Bartja. Then taking the hand of
Darius heartily, he said: "I am very glad that you love Atossa. I shall
stay here till the day after to-morrow, let the stars threaten me with
all the dangers in the world. To-morrow I will find out what Atossa
feels, and when every thing is in the right track I shall go away, and
leave my winged Darius to his own powers."

So saying Bartja went back into the arbor, and his friend began to watch
the stars again. The longer he looked the sadder and more serious became
his face, and when the Tistar-star set, he murmured, "Poor Bartja!" His
friends called him, and he was on the point of returning to them, when he
caught sight of a new star, and began to examine its position carefully.
His serious looks gave way to a triumphant smile, his tall figure seemed
to grow taller still, he pressed his hand on his heart and whispered:
"Use your pinions, winged Darius; your star will be on your side," and
then returned to his friends.

A few minutes after, Croesus came up to the arbor. The youths sprang from
their seats to welcome the old man, but when he saw Bartja's face by the
bright moonlight, he stood as if transfixed by a flash of lightning.

"What has happened, father?" asked Gyges, seizing his hand anxiously.

"Nothing, nothing," he stammered almost inaudibly, and pushing his son on
one side, whispered in Bartja's ear: "Unhappy boy, you are still here?
don't delay any longer,--fly at once! the whip-bearers are close at my
heels, and I assure you that if you don't use the greatest speed, you
will have to forfeit your double imprudence with your life."

"But Croesus, I have . . ."

"You have set at nought the law of the land and of the court, and, in
appearance at least, have done great offence to your brother's honor.
. . ."

"You are speaking . . ."

"Fly, I tell you--fly at once; for if your visit to the hanging-gardens
was ever so innocently meant, you are still in the greatest danger. You
know Cambyses' violent temper so well; how could you so wickedly disobey
his express command?"

"I don't understand."

"No excuses,--fly! don't you know that, Cambyses has long been jealous of
you, and that your visit to the Egyptian to-night . . ."

"I have never once set foot in the hanging-gardens, since Nitetis has
been here."

"Don't add a lie to your offence, I . . ."

"But I swear to you . . ."

"Do you wish to turn a thoughtless act into a crime by adding the guilt
of perjury? The whip-bearers are coming, fly!"

"I shall remain here, and abide by my oath."

"You are infatuated! It is not an hour ago since I myself, Hystaspes, and
others of the Achaemenidae saw you in the hanging-gardens . . ."

In his astonishment Bartja had, half involuntarily, allowed himself to be
led away, but when he heard this he stood still, called his friends and
said "Croesus says he met me an hour ago in the hanging-gardens, you know
that since the sun set I have not been away from you. Give your
testimony, that in this case an evil Div must have made sport of our
friend and his companions."

"I swear to you, father," cried Gyges, "that Bartja has not left this
garden for some hours."

"And we confirm the same," added Araspes, Zopyrus and Darius with one
voice.

"You want to deceive me?" said Croesus getting very angry, and looking at
each of them reproachfully: "Do you fancy that I am blind or mad? Do you
think that your witness will outweigh the words of such men as Hystaspes,
Gobryas, Artaphernes and the high priest, Oropastes? In spite of all your
false testimony, which no amount of friendship can justify, Bartja will
have to die unless he flies at once."

"May Angramainjus destroy me," said Araspes interrupting the old man, "if
Bartja was in the hanging-gardens two hours ago!" and Gyges added:

"Don't call me your son any longer, if we have given false testimony."

Darius was beginning to appeal to the eternal stars, but Bartja put an
end to this confusion of voices by saying in a decided tone: "A division
of the bodyguard is coming into the garden. I am to be arrested; I cannot
escape because I am innocent, and to fly would lay me open to suspicion.
By the soul of my father, the blind eyes of my mother, and the pure light
of the sun, Croesus, I swear that I am not lying."

"Am I to believe you, in spite of my own eyes which have never yet
deceived me? But I will, boy, for I love you. I do not and I will not
know whether you are innocent or guilty, but this I do know, you must
fly, and fly at once. You know Cambyses. My carriage is waiting at the
gate. Don't spare the horses, save yourself even if you drive them to
death. The Soldiers seem to know what they have been sent to do; there
can be no question that they delay so long only in order to give their
favorite time to escape. Fly, fly, or it is all over with you."

Darius, too, pushed his friend forward, exclaiming: "Fly, Bartja, and
remember the warning that the heavens themselves wrote in the stars for
you."

Bartja, however, stood silent, shook his handsome head, waved his friends
back, and answered: "I never ran away yet, and I mean to hold my ground
to-day. Cowardice is worse than death in my opinion, and I would rather
suffer wrong at the hands of others than disgrace myself. There are the
soldiers! Well met, Bischen. You've come to arrest me, haven't you? Wait
one moment, till I have said good-bye to my friends."

Bischen, the officer he spoke to, was one of Cyrus's old captains; he had
given Bartja his first lessons in shooting and throwing the spear, had
fought by his side in the war with the Tapuri, and loved him as if he
were his own son. He interrupted him, saying: "There is no need to take
leave of your friends, for the king, who is raging like a madman, ordered
me not only to arrest you, but every one else who might be with you."

And then he added in a low voice: "The king is beside himself with rage
and threatens to have your life. You must fly. My men will do what I tell
them blindfold; they will not pursue you; and I am so old that it would
be little loss to Persia, if my head were the price of my disobedience."

"Thanks, thanks, my friend," said Bartja, giving him his hand; "but I
cannot accept your offer, because I am innocent, and I know that though
Cambyses is hasty, he is not unjust. Come friends, I think the king will
give us a hearing to-day, late as it is."




CHAPTER III.

Two hours later Bartja and his friends were standing before the king. The
gigantic man was seated on his golden throne; he was pale and his eyes
looked sunken; two physicians stood waiting behind him with all kinds of
instruments and vessels in their hands. Cambyses had, only a few minutes
before, recovered consciousness, after lying for more than an hour in one
of those awful fits, so destructive both to mind and body, which we call
epileptic.

[The dangerous disease to which Herodotus says Cambyses had been
subject from his birth, and which was called "sacred" by some, can
scarcely be other than epilepsy. See Herod, III. 33.]