cause. Phanes answered quickly that the Achaemenidae were rejoicing in
the thought that a war might possibly be near at hand.

"What war?" asked the king, with the first smile that had been seen on
his face for many days.

"We were only speaking in general of the possibility of such a thing,"
answered Phanes carelessly; then, riding up to the king's side, his voice
took an impressive tone full of feeling, and looking earnestly into his
face, he began: "It is true, my Sovereign, that I was not born in this
beautiful country as one of your subjects, nor can I boast of a long
acquaintance with the most powerful of monarchs, but yet I cannot resist
the presumptuous, perhaps criminal thought, that the gods at my birth
appointed me to be your real friend. It is not your rich gifts that have
drawn me to you. I did not need them, for I belong to the wealthier class
of my countrymen, and I have no son,--no heir,--to whom I can bequeath my
treasures. Once I had a boy--a beautiful, gentle child;--but I was not
going to speak of that,--I . . . Are you offended at my freedom of
speech, my Sovereign?"

"What is there to offend me?" answered the king, who had never been
spoken to in this manner before, and felt strongly attracted to the
original foreigner.

"Till to-day I felt that your grief was too sacred to be disturbed, but
now the time has come to rouse you from it and to make your heart glow
once more. You will have to hear what must be very painful to you."

"There is nothing more now, that can grieve me."

"What I am going to tell you will not give you pain; on the contrary, it
will rouse your anger."

"You make me curious."

"You have been shamefully deceived; you and that lovely creature, who
died such an early death a few days ago."

Cambyses' eyes flashed a demand for further information.

"Amasis, the King of Egypt, has dared to make sport of you, the lord of
the world. That gentle girl was not his daughter, though she herself
believed that she was; she . . ."

"Impossible!"

"It would seem so, and yet I am speaking the simple truth. Amasis spun a
web of lies, in which he managed to entrap, not only the whole world, but
you too, my Sovereign. Nitetis, the most lovely creature ever born of
woman, was the daughter of a king, but not of the usurper Amasis. Hophra,
the rightful king of Egypt, was the father of this pearl among women. You
may well frown, my Sovereign. It is a cruel thing to be betrayed by one's
friends and allies."

Cambyses spurred his horse, and after a silence of some moments, kept by
Phanes purposely, that his words might make a deeper impression, cried,
"Tell me more! I wish to know everything."

"Hophra had been living twenty years in easy captivity in Sais after his
dethronement, when his wife, who had borne him three children and buried
them all, felt that she was about to give birth to a fourth. Hophra, in
his joy, determined to offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving in the temple of
Pacht, the Egyptian goddess supposed to confer the blessing of children,
when, on his way thither, a former magnate of his court, named
Patarbemis, whom, in a fit of unjust anger, he had ignominiously
mutilated, fell upon him with a troop of slaves and massacred him. Amasis
had the unhappy widow brought to his palace at once, and assigned her an
apartment next to the one occupied by his own queen Ladice, who was also
expecting soon to give birth to a child. A girl was born to Hophra's
widow, but the mother died in the same hour, and two days later Ladice
bore a child also.--But I see we are in the court of the palace. If you
allow, I will have the report of the physician, by whom this imposture
was effected, read before you. Several of his notes have, by a remarkable
conjuncture of circumstances, which I will explain to you later, fallen
into my hands. A former high-priest of Heliopolis, Onuphis, is now living
in Babylon, and understands all the different styles of writing in use
among his countrymen. Nebenchari will, of course, refuse to help in
disclosing an imposture, which must inevitably lead to the ruin of his
country."

"In an hour I expect to see you here with the man you have just spoken
of. Croesus, Nebenchari, and all the Achaemenidae who were in Egypt, will
have to appear also. I must have certainty before I can act, and your
testimony alone is not sufficient, because I know from Amasis, that you
have cause to feel a grudge against his house."

At the time appointed all were assembled before the king in obedience to
his command.

Onuphis, the former high-priest, was an old man of eighty. A pair of
large, clear, intelligent, grey eyes looked out of a head so worn and
wasted, as to be more like a mere skull than the head of a living man. He
held a large papyrus-roll in his gaunt hand, and was seated in an easy
chair, as his paralyzed limbs did not allow of his standing, even in the
king's presence. His dress was snow-white, as beseemed a priest, but
there were patches and rents to be seen here and there. His figure might
perhaps once have been tall and slender, but it was now so bent and
shrunk by age, privation and suffering, as to look unnatural and
dwarfish, in comparison with the size of his head.

Nebenchari, who revered Onuphis, not only as a high-priest deeply
initiated in the most solemn mysteries, but also on account of his great
age, stood by his side and arranged his cushions. At his left stood
Phanes, and then Croesus, Darius and Prexaspes.

The king sat upon his throne. His face was dark and stern as he broke the
silence with the following words:--"This noble Greek, who, I am inclined
to believe, is my friend, has brought me strange tidings. He says that I
have been basely deceived by Amasis, that my deceased wife was not his,
but his predecessor's daughter."

A murmur of astonishment ran through the assembly. "This old man is here
to prove the imposture." Onuphis gave a sign of assent.

"Prexaspes, my first question is to you. When Nitetis was entrusted to
your care, was it expressly said that she was the daughter of Amasis?"

"Expressly. Nebenchari had, it is true, praised Tachot to the noble
Kassandane as the most beautiful of the twin sisters; but Amasis insisted
on sending Nitetis to Persia. I imagined that, by confiding his most
precious jewel to your care, he meant to put you under a special
obligation; and as it seemed to me that Nitetis surpassed her sister, not
only in beauty but in dignity of character, I ceased to sue for the hand
of Tachot. In his letter to you too, as you will remember, he spoke of
confiding to you his most beautiful, his dearest child."

"Those were his words."

"And Nitetis was, without question, the more beautiful and the nobler of
the two sisters," said Croesus in confirmation of the envoy's remark.
"But it certainly did strike me that Tachot was her royal parents'
favorite."

"Yes," said Darius, "without doubt. Once, at a revel, Amasis joked Bartja
in these words: 'Don't look too deep into Tachot's eyes, for if you were
a god, I could not allow you to take her to Persia!' Psamtik was evidently
annoyed at this remark and said to the king, 'Father, remember Phanes.'"

"Phanes!"

"Yes, my Sovereign," answered the Athenian. "Once, when he was
intoxicated, Amasis let out his secret to me, and Psamtik was warning him
not to forget himself a second time."

"Tell the story as it occurred."

"On my return from Cyprus to Sais as a conqueror, a great entertainment
was given at court. Amasis distinguished me in every way, as having won a
rich province for him, and even, to the dismay of his own countrymen,
embraced me. His affection increased with his intoxication, and at last,
as Psamtik and I were leading him to his private apartments, he stopped
at the door of his daughter's room, and said: 'The girls sleep there. If
you will put away your own wife, Athenian, I will give you Nitetis. I
should like to have you for a son-in-law. There's a secret about that
girl, Phanes; she's not my own child.' Before his drunken father could
say more, Psamtik laid his hand before his mouth, and sent me roughly
away to my lodging, where I thought the matter over and conjectured what
I now, from reliable sources, know to be the truth. I entreat you,
command this old man to translate those parts of the physician
Sonnophre's journal, which allude to this story."

Cambyses nodded his consent, and the old man began to read in a voice far
louder than any one could have supposed possible from his infirm
appearance "On the fifth day of the month Thoth, I was sent for by the
king. I had expected this, as the queen was near her confinement. With my
assistance she was easily and safely delivered of a child--a weakly girl.
As soon as the nurse had taken charge of this child, Amasis led me behind
a curtain which ran across his wife's sleeping-apartment. There lay
another infant, which I recognized as the child of Hophra's widow, who
herself had died under my hands on the third day of the same month. The
king then said, pointing to this strong child, 'This little creature has
no parents, but, as it is written in the law that we are to show mercy to
the desolate orphans, Ladice and I have determined to bring her up as our
own daughter. We do not, however, wish that this deed should be made
known, either to the world or to the child herself, and I ask you to keep
the secret and spread a report that Ladice has given birth to twins. If
you accomplish this according to our wish, you shall receive to-day five
thousand rings of gold, and the fifth part of this sum yearly, during
your life. I made my obeisance in silence, ordered every one to leave the
sick room, and, when I again called them in, announced that Ladice had
given birth to a second girl. Amasis' real child received the name of
Tachot, the spurious one was called Nitetis."

At these words Cambyses rose from his seat, and strode through the hall;
but Onuphis continued, without allowing himself to be disturbed: "Sixth
day of the month Thoth. This morning I had just lain down to rest after
the fatigues of the night, when a servant appeared with the promised gold
and a letter from the king, asking me to procure a dead child, to be
buried with great ceremony as the deceased daughter of King Hophra. After
a great deal of trouble I succeeded, an hour ago, in obtaining one from a
poor girl who had given birth to a child secretly in the house of the old
woman, who lives at the entrance to the City of the Dead. The little one
had caused her shame and sorrow enough, but she would not be persuaded to
give up the body of her darling, until I promised that it should be
embalmed and buried in the most splendid manner. We put the little corpse
into my large medicine-chest, my son Nebenchari carried it this time
instead of my servant Hib, and so it was introduced into the room where
Hophra's widow had died. The poor girl's baby will receive a magnificent
funeral. I wish I might venture to tell her, what a glorious lot awaits
her darling after death. Nebenchari has just been sent for by the king."

At the second mention of this name, Cambyses stopped in his walk, and
said: "Is our oculist Nebenchari the man whose name is mentioned in this
manuscript?"

"Nebenchari," returned Phanes, "is the son of this very Sonnophre who
changed the children."

The physician did not raise his eyes; his face was gloomy and sullen.

Cambyses took the roll of papyrus out of Onuphis' band, looked at the
characters with which it was covered, shook his head, went up to
Nebenchari and said:

"Look at these characters and tell me if it is your father's writing."

Nebenchari fell on his knees and raised his hands.

"I ask, did your father paint these signs?"

"I do not know-whether . . . Indeed . . ."

"I will know the truth. Yes or no?"

"Yes, my King; but . . ."

"Rise, and be assured of my favor. Faithfulness to his ruler is the
ornament of a subject; but do not forget that I am your king now.
Kassandane tells me, that you are going to undertake a delicate operation
to-morrow in order to restore her sight. Are you not venturing too much?"

"I can depend on my own skill, my Sovereign."

"One more question. Did you know of this fraud?"

"Yes."

"And you allowed me to remain in error?"

"I had been compelled to swear secrecy and an oath . . ."

"An oath is sacred. Gobryas, see that both these Egyptians receive a
portion from my table. Old man, you seem to require better food."

"I need nothing beyond air to breathe, a morsel of bread and a draught of
water to preserve me from dying of hunger and thirst, a clean robe, that
I may be pleasing in the eyes of the gods and in my own, and a small
chamber for myself, that I may be a hindrance to no man. I have never
been richer than to-day."

"How so?"

"I am about to give away a kingdom."

"You speak in enigmas."

"By my translation of to-day I have proved, that your deceased consort
was the child of Hophra. Now, our law allows the daughter of a king to
succeed to the throne, when there is neither son nor brother living; if
she should die childless, her husband becomes her legitimate successor.
Amasis is a usurper, but the throne of Egypt is the lawful birthright of
Hophra and his descendants. Psamtik forfeits every right to the crown the
moment that a brother, son, daughter or son-in-law of Hophra appears. I
can, therefore, salute my present sovereign as the future monarch of my
own beautiful native land."

Cambyses smiled self-complacently, and Onuphis went on: "I have read in
the stars too, that Psamtik's ruin and your own accession to the throne
of Egypt have been fore-ordained."

"We'll show that the stars were right," cried the king, "and as for you,
you liberal old fellow, I command you to ask me any wish you like."

"Give me a conveyance, and let me follow your army to Egypt. I long to
close my eyes on the Nile."

"Your wish is granted. Now, my friends, leave me, and see that all those
who usually eat at my table are present at this evening's revel. We will
hold a council of war over the luscious wine. Methinks a campaign in
Egypt will pay better than a contest with the Massagetae."

He was answered by a joyful shout of "Victory to the king!" They all then
left the hall, and Cambyses, summoning his dressers, proceeded for the
first time to exchange his mourning garments for the splendid royal
robes.

Croesus and Phanes went into the green and pleasant garden lying on the
eastern side of the royal palace, which abounded in groves of trees,
shrubberies, fountains and flower-beds. Phanes was radiant with delight;
Croesus full of care and thought.

"Have you duly reflected," said the latter, "on the burning brand that
you have just flung out into the world?"

"It is only children and fools that act without reflection," was the
answer.

"You forget those who are deluded by passion."

"I do not belong to that number."

"And yet revenge is the most fearful of all the passions."

"Only when it is practised in the heat of feeling. My revenge is as cool
as this piece of iron; but I know my duty."

"The highest duty of a good man, is to subordinate his own welfare to
that of his country."

"That I know."

"You seem to forget, however, that with Egypt you are delivering your own
country over to the Persians."

"I do not agree with you there."

"Do you believe, that when all the rest of the Mediterranean coasts
belong to Persia, she will leave your beautiful Greece untouched?"

"Certainly not, but I know my own countrymen; I believe them fully
capable of a victorious resistance to the hosts of the barbarians, and am
confident that their courage and greatness will rise with the nearness of
the danger. It will unite our divided tribes into one great nation, and
be the ruin of the tyrants."

"I cannot argue with you, for I am no longer acquainted with the state of
things in your native country, and besides, I believe you to be a wise
man--not one who would plunge a nation into ruin merely for the
gratification of his own ambition. It is a fearful thing that entire
nations should have to suffer for the guilt of one man, if that man be
one who wears a crown. And now, if my opinion is of any importance to
you, tell me what the deed was which has roused your desire of
vengeance."

"Listen then, and never try again to turn me from my purpose. You know
the heir to the Egyptian throne, and you know Rhodopis too. The former
was, for many reasons, my mortal enemy, the latter the friend of every
Greek, but mine especially. When I was obliged to leave Egypt, Psamtik
threatened me with his vengeance; your son Gyges saved my life. A few
weeks later my two children came to Naukratis, in order to follow me out
to Sigeum. Rhodopis took them kindly under her protection, but some
wretch had discovered the secret and betrayed it to the prince. The very
next night her house was surrounded and searched,--my children found and
taken captive. Amasis had meanwhile become blind, and allowed his
miserable son to do what he liked; the wretch dared to . . ."

"Kill your only son?"

"You have said it."

"And your other child?"

"The girl is still in their hands."

"They will do her an injury when they hear . . ."

"Let her die. Better go to one's grave childless, than unrevenged."

"I understand. I cannot blame you any longer. The boy's blood must be
revenged."

And so saying, the old man pressed the Athenian's right hand. The latter
dried his tears, mastered his emotion, and cried: "Let us go to the
council of war now. No one can be so thankful for Psamtik's infamous
deeds as Cambyses. That man with his hasty passions was never made to be
a prince of peace."

"And yet it seems to me the highest duty of a king is to work for the
inner welfare of his kingdom. But human beings are strange creatures;
they praise their butchers more than their benefactors. How many poems
have been written on Achilles! but did any one ever dream of writing
songs on the wise government of Pittakus?"

"More courage is required to shed blood, than to plant trees."

"But much more kindness and wisdom to heal wounds, than to make them.--I
have still one question which I should very much like to ask you, before
we go into the hall. Will Bartja be able to stay at Naukratis when Amasis
is aware of the king's intentions?"

"Certainly not. I have prepared him for this, and advised his assuming a
disguise and a false name."

"Did he agree?"

"He seemed willing to follow my advice."

"But at all events it would be well to send a messenger to put him on his
guard."

"We will ask the king's permission."

"Now we must go. I see the wagons containing the viands of the royal
household just driving away from the kitchen."

"How many people are maintained from the king's table daily?"

"About fifteen thousand."

"Then the Persians may thank the gods, that their king only takes one
meal a day."

[This immense royal household is said to have cost 400 talents, that
is (L90,000.) daily. Athenaus, Deipn. p. 607.]




CHAPTER IX.

Six weeks after these events a little troop of horsemen might have been
seen riding towards the gates of Sardis. The horses and their riders were
covered with sweat and dust. The former knew that they were drawing near
a town, where there would be stables and mangers, and exerted all their
remaining powers; but yet their pace did not seem nearly fast enough to
satisfy the impatience of two men, dressed in Persian costume, who rode
at the head of the troop.

The well-kept royal road ran through fields of good black, arable land,
planted with trees of many different kinds. It crossed the outlying spurs
of the Tmolus range of mountains. At their foot stretched rows of olive,
citron and plane-trees, plantations of mulberries and vines; at a higher
level grew firs, cypresses and nut-tree copses. Fig-trees and date-palms,
covered with fruit, stood sprinkled over the fields; and the woods and
meadows were carpeted with brightly-colored and sweetly-scented flowers.
The road led over ravines and brooks, now half dried up by the heat of
summer, and here and there the traveller came upon a well at the side of
the road, carefully enclosed, with seats for the weary, and sheltering
shrubs. Oleanders bloomed in the more damp and shady places; slender
palms waved wherever the sun was hottest. Over this rich landscape hung a
deep blue, perfectly cloudless sky, bounded on its southern horizon by
the snowy peaks of the Tmolus mountains, and on the west by the Sipylus
range of hills, which gave a bluish shimmer in the distance.

The road went down into the valley, passing through a little wood of
birches, the stems of which, up to the very tree-top, were twined with
vines covered with bunches of grapes.

The horsemen stopped at a bend in the road, for there, before them, in
the celebrated valley of the Hermus, lay the golden Sardis, formerly the
capital of the Lydian kingdom and residence of its king, Croesus.

Above the reed-thatched roofs of its numerous houses rose a black, steep
rock; the white marble buildings on its summit could be seen from a great
distance. These buildings formed the citadel, round the threefold walls
of which, many centuries before, King Meles had carried a lion in order
to render them impregnable. On its southern side the citadel-rock was not
so steep, and houses had been built upon it. Croesus' former palace lay
to the north, on the golden-sanded Pactolus. This reddish-colored river
flowed above the market-place, (which, to our admiring travellers, looked
like a barren spot in the midst of a blooming meadow), ran on in a
westerly direction, and then entered a narrow mountain valley, where it
washed the walls of the temple of Cybele.

Large gardens stretched away towards the east, and in the midst of them
lay the lake Gygaeus, covered with gay boats and snowy swans, and
sparkling like a mirror.

A short distance from the lake were a great number of artificial mounds,
three of which were especially noticeable from their size and height.

[See also Hamilton's Asia Minor, I. P. 145. Herodotus (I. 93.)
calls the tombs of the Lydian kings the largest works of human
hands, next to the Egyptian and Babylonian. These cone-shaped hills
can be seen to this day, standing near the ruins of Sardis, not far
from the lake of Gygaea. Hamilton (Asia Minor, I. p. i) counted
some sixty of them, and could not ride round the hill of Alayattes
in less than ten minutes. Prokesch saw 100 such tumuli. The
largest, tomb of Alyattes, still measures 3400 feet in
circumference, and the length of its slope is 650 feet. According
to Prokesch, gigantic Phallus columns lie on some of these graves.]

"What can those strange-looking earth-heaps mean?" said Darius, the
leader of the troop, to Prexaspes, Cambyses' envoy, who rode at his side.

"They are the graves of former Lydian kings," was the answer. "The middle
one is in memory of the princely pair Panthea and Abradatas, and the
largest, that one to the left, was erected to the father of Croesus,
Alyattes. It was raised by the tradesmen, mechanics, and girls, to their
late king, and on the five columns, which stand on its summit, you can
read how much each of these classes contributed to the work. The girls
were the most industrious. Gyges' grandfather is said to have been their
especial friend."

"Then the grandson must have degenerated very much from the old stock."

"Yes, and that seems the more remarkable, because Croesus himself in his
youth was by no means averse to women, and the Lydians generally are
devoted to such pleasures. You see the white walls of that temple yonder
in the midst of its sacred grove. That is the temple of the goddess of
Sardis, Cybele or Ma, as they call her. In that grove there is many a
sheltered spot where the young people of Sardis meet, as they say, in
honor of their goddess."

"Just as in Babylon, at the festival of Mylitta."

"There is the same custom too on the coast of Cyprus. When I landed there
on the way back from Egypt, I was met by a troop of lovely girls, who,
with songs, dances, and the clang of cymbals, conducted me to the sacred
grove of their goddess."

"Well, Zopyrus will not grumble at Bartja's illness."

"He will spend more of his time in the grove of Cybele, than at his
patient's bedside. How glad I shall be to see that jolly fellow again!"

"Yes, he'll keep you from falling into those melancholy fits that you
have been so subject to lately." "You are quite right to blame me for
those fits, and I must not yield to them, but they are not without
ground. Croesus says we only get low-spirited, when we are either too
lazy or too weak to struggle against annoyances, and I believe he is
right. But no one shall dare to accuse Darius of weakness or idleness. If
I can't rule the world, at least I will be my own master." And as he said
these words, the handsome youth drew himself up, and sat erect in his
saddle. His companion gazed in wonder at him.

"Really, you son of Hystaspes," he said, "I believe you must be meant for
something great. It was not by chance that, when you were still a mere
child, the gods sent their favorite Cyrus that dream which induced him to
order you into safe keeping."

"And yet my wings have never appeared."

"No bodily ones, certainly; but mental ones, likely enough. Young man,
young man, you're on a dangerous road."

"Have winged creatures any need to be afraid of precipices?"

"Certainly; when their strength fails them."

"But I am strong."

"Stronger creatures than you will try to break your pinions."

"Let them. I want nothing but what is right, and shall trust to my star."

"Do you know its name?"

"It ruled in the hour of my birth, and its name is Anahita."

"I think I know better. A burning ambition is the sun, whose rays guide
all your actions. Take care; I tried that way myself once; it leads to
fame or to disgrace, but very seldom to happiness. Fame to the ambitious
is like salt water to the thirsty; the more he gets, the more he wants. I
was once only a poor soldier, and am now Cambyses' ambassador. But you,
what can you have to strive for? There is no man in the kingdom greater
than yourself, after the sons of Cyrus . . . Do my eyes deceive me?
Surely those two men riding to meet us with a troop of horsemen must be
Gyges and Zopyrus. The Angare, who left the inn before us, must have told
them of our coming."

"To be sure. Look at that fellow Zopyrus, how he's waving and beckoning
with that palm-leaf."

"Here, you fellows, cut us a few twigs from those bushes-quick. We'll
answer his green palm-leaf with a purple pomegranate-branch."

In a few minutes the friends had embraced one another, and the two bands
were riding together into the populous town, through the gardens
surrounding the lake Gygaeus, the Sardians' place of recreation. It was
now near sunset, a cooler breeze was beginning to blow, and the citizens
were pouring through the gates to enjoy themselves in the open air.
Lydian and Persian warriors, the former wearing richly-ornamented
helmets, the latter tiaras in the form of a cylinder, were following
girls who were painted and wreathed. Children were being led to the lake
by their nurses, to see the swans fed. An old blind man was seated under
a plane-tree, singing sad ditties to a listening crowd and accompanying
them on the Magadis, the twenty-stringed Lydian lute. Youths were
enjoying themselves at games of ball, ninepins, and dice, and half-grown
girls screaming with fright, when the ball hit one of their group or
nearly fell into the water.

The travellers scarcely noticed this gay scene, though at another time it
would have delighted them. They were too much interested in enquiring
particulars of Bartja's illness and recovery.

At the brazen gates of the palace which had formerly belonged to Croesus,
they were met by Oroetes, the satrap of Sardis, in a magnificent
court-dress overloaded with ornaments. He was a stately man, whose small
penetrating black eyes looked sharply out from beneath a bushy mass of
eyebrow. His satrapy was one of the most important and profitable in the
entire kingdom, and his household could bear a comparison with that of
Cambyses in richness and splendor. Though he possessed fewer wives and
attendants than the king, it was no inconsiderable troop of guards,
slaves, eunuchs and gorgeously-dressed officials, which appeared at the
palace-gates to receive the travellers.

The vice-regal palace, which was still kept up with great magnificence,
had been, in the days when Croesus occupied it, the most splendid of
royal residences; after the taking of Sardis, however, the greater part
of the dethroned king's treasures and works of art had been sent to
Cyrus's treasure-house in Pasargadae. When that time of terror had
passed, the Lydians brought many a hidden treasure into the light of day
once more, and, by their industry and skill in art during the peaceful
years which they enjoyed under Cyrus and Cambyses, recovered their old
position so far, that Sardis was again looked upon as one of the
wealthiest cities of Asia Minor, and therefore, of the world.

Accustomed as Darius and Prexaspes were to royal splendor, they were
still astonished at the beauty and brilliancy of the satrap's palace. The
marble work, especially, made a great impression on them, as nothing of
the kind was to be found in Babylon, Susa or Ecbatane, where burnt brick
and cedar-wood supply the place of the polished marble.

[The palace of Persepolis did not exist at the date of our story.
It was built partly of black stone from Mount Rachmed, and partly of
white marble; it was probably begun by Darius. The palace of Susa
was built of brick, (Strabo p. 728) that of Ecbatana of wood
overlaid with plates of gold of immense value, and roofed with tiles
made of the precious metals.]

They found Bartja lying on a couch in the great hall; he looked very
pale, and stretched out his arms towards them.

The friends supped together at the satrap's table and then retired to
Bartja's private room, in order to enjoy an undisturbed conversation.

"Well, Bartja, how did you come by this dangerous illness?" was Darius'
first question after they were seated.

"I was thoroughly well, as you know," said Bartja, "when we left Babylon,
and we reached Germa, a little town on the Sangarius, without the
slightest hindrance. The ride was long and we were very tired, burnt too
by the scorching May sun, and covered with dust; the river flows by the
station, and its waves looked so clear and bright--so inviting for a
bathe--that in a minute Zopyrus and I were off our horses, undressed, and
in the water. Gyges told us we were very imprudent, but we felt confident
that we were too much inured to such things to get any harm, and very
much enjoyed our swim in the cool, green water. Gyges, perfectly calm as
usual, let us have our own way, waited till our bath was over, and then
plunged in himself.

"In two hours we were in our saddles again, pushing on as if for our very
lives, changing horses at every station, and turning night into day.

"We were near Ipsus, when I began to feel violent pains in the head and
limbs. I was ashamed to say anything about it and kept upright on my
saddle, until we had to take fresh horses at Bagis. Just as I was in the
very act of mounting, I lost my senses and strength, and fell down on the
ground in a dead faint."

"Yes, a pretty fright you gave us," interrupted Zopyrus, "by dropping
down in that fashion. It was fortunate that Gyges was there, for I lost
my wits entirely; he, of course, kept his presence of mind, and after
relieving his feelings in words not exactly flattering to us two, he
behaved like a circumspect general.--A fool of a doctor came running up
and protested that it was all over with poor Bart, for which I gave him a
good thrashing."

"Which he didn't particularly object to," said the satrap, laughing,
"seeing that you told them to lay a gold stater on every stripe."

"Yes, yes, my pugnacity costs me very dear sometimes. But to our story.
As soon as Bartja had opened his eyes, Gyges sent me off to Sardis to
fetch a good physician and an easy travelling-carriage. That ride won't
so soon be imitated. An hour before I reached the gates my third horse
knocked up under me, so I had to trust to my own legs, and began running