asked with a bitter smile; "What do you want?"
"Victory to the king!  Your poor servant and uncle has come to entreat
his ruler's mercy."

"Then rise and go!  You know that I have no mercy for perjurers and false
swearers.  'Tis better to have a dead son than a dishonorable one."

"But if Bartja should not be guilty, and Darius .  .  ."

"You dare to question the justice of my sentence?"

"That be far from me.  Whatever the king does is good, and cannot be
gainsaid; but still .  .  ."

"Be silent!  I will not hear the subject mentioned again.  You are to be
pitied as a father; but have these last few hours brought me any joy?
Old man, I grieve for you, but I have as little power to rescind his
punishment as you to recall his crime."

"But if Bartja really should not be guilty--if the gods .  .  ."

"Do you think the gods will come to the help of perjurers and deceivers?"

"No, my King; but a fresh witness has appeared."

"A fresh witness?  Verily, I would gladly give half my kingdom, to be
convinced of the innocence of men so nearly related to me."

"Victory to my lord, the eye of the realm!  A Greek is waiting outside,
who seems, to judge by his figure and bearing, one of the noblest of his
race."

The king laughed bitterly: "A Greek!  Ah, ha!  perhaps some relation to
Bartja's faithful fair one!  What can this stranger know of my family
affairs?  I know these beggarly Ionians well.  They are impudent enough
to meddle in everything, and think they can cheat us with their sly
tricks.  How much have you had to pay for this new witness, uncle?  A
Greek is as ready with a lie as a Magian with his spells, and I know
they'll do anything for gold.  I'm really curious to see your witness.
Call him in.  But if he wants to deceive me, he had better remember that
where the head of a son of Cyrus is about to fall, a Greek head has but
very little chance."  And the king's eyes flashed with anger as he said
these words.  Hystaspes, however, sent for the Greek.

Before he entered, the chamberlains fastened the usual cloth before his
mouth, and commanded him to cast himself on the ground before the king.
The Greek's bearing, as he approached, under the king's penetrating
glance, was calm and noble; he fell on his face, and, according to the
Persian custom, kissed the ground.

His agreeable and handsome appearance, and the calm and modest manner in
which he bore the king's gaze, seemed to make a favorable impression on
the latter; he did not allow him to remain long on the earth, and asked
him in a by no means unfriendly tone: "Who are you?"

"I am a Greek nobleman.  My name is Phanes, and Athens is my home.  I
have served ten years as commander of the Greek mercenaries in Egypt, and
not ingloriously."

"Are you the man, to whose clever generalship the Egyptians were indebted
for their victories in Cyprus?"

"I am."

"What has brought you to Persia?"

"The glory of your name, Cambyses, and the wish to devote my arms and
experience to your service."

"Nothing else?  Be sincere, and remember that one single lie may cost
your life.  We Persians have different ideas of truth from the Greeks."

"Lying is hateful to me too, if only, because, as a distortion and
corruption of what is noblest, it seems unsightly in my eyes."

"Then speak."

"There was certainly a third reason for my coming hither, which I should
like to tell you later.  It has reference to matters of the greatest
importance, which it will require a longer time to discuss; but to-day--"

"Just to-day I should like to hear something new.  Accompany me to the
chase.  You come exactly at the right time, for I never had more need of
diversion than now."

"I will accompany you with pleasure, if.  .  ."

"No conditions to the king!  Have you had much practice in hunting?"

"In the Libyan desert I have killed many a lion."

"Then come, follow me."

In the thought of the chase the king seemed to have thrown off all his
weakness and roused himself to action; he was just leaving the hall, when
Hystaspes once more threw himself at his feet, crying with up-raised
hands: "Is my son--is your brother, to die innocent?  By the soul of your
father, who used to call me his truest friend, I conjure you to listen to
this noble stranger."

Cambyses stood still.  The frown gathered on his brow again, his voice
sounded like a menace and his eyes flashed as he raised his hand and said
to the Greek: "Tell me what you know; but remember that in every untrue
word, you utter your own sentence of death."

Phanes heard this threat with the greatest calmness, and answered, bowing
gracefully as he spoke: "From the sun and from my lord the king, nothing
can be hid.  What power has a poor mortal to conceal the truth from one
so mighty?  The noble Hystaspes has said, that I am able to prove your
brother innocent.  I will only say, that I wish and hope I may succeed in
accomplishing anything so great and beautiful.  The gods have at least
allowed me to discover a trace which seems calculated to throw light on
the events of yesterday; but you yourself must decide whether my hopes
have been presumptuous and my suspicions too easily aroused.  Remember,
however, that throughout, my wish to serve you has been sincere, and
that if I have been deceived, my error is pardonable; that nothing is
perfectly certain in this world, and every man believes that to be
infallible which seems to him the most probable."

"You speak well, and remind me of .  .  .  curse her! there, speak and
have done with it!  I hear the dogs already in the court."

"I was still in Egypt when your embassy came to fetch Nitetis.  At the
house of Rhodopis, my delightful, clever and celebrated countrywoman, I
made the acquaintance of Croesus and his son; I only saw your brother and
his friends once or twice, casually; still I remembered the young
prince's handsome face so well, that some time later, when I was in the
workshop of the great sculptor Theodorus at Samos, I recognized his
features at once."

"Did you meet him at Samos?"

"No, but his features had made such a deep and faithful impression on
Theodorus' memory, that he used them to beautify the head of an Apollo,
which the Achaemenidae had ordered for the new temple of Delphi."

"Your tale begins, at least, incredibly enough.  How is it possible to
copy features so exactly, when you have not got them before you?"

"I can only answer that Theodorus has really completed this master-piece,
and if you wish for a proof of his skill would gladly send you a second
likeness of .  .  ."

"I have no desire for it.  Go on with your story."

"On my journey hither, which, thanks to your father's excellent
arrangements, I performed in an incredibly short time, changing horses
every sixteen or seventeen miles .  .  ."

"Who allowed you, a foreigner, to use the posthorses?"

"The pass drawn out for the son of Croesus, which came by chance into my
hands, when once, in order to save my life, he forced me to change
clothes with him."

"A Lydian can outwit a fox, and a Syrian a Lydian, but an Ionian is a
match for both," muttered the king, smiling for the first time; "Croesus
told me this story--poor Croesus!"  and then the old gloomy expression
came over his face and he passed his hand across his forehead, as if
trying to smooth the lines of care away.  The Athenian went on: "I met
with no hindrances on my journey till this morning at the first hour
after midnight, when I was detained by a strange occurrence."

The king began to listen more attentively, and reminded the Athenian, who
spoke Persian with difficulty, that there was no time to lose.

"We had reached the last station but one," continued he, "and hoped to be
in Babylon by sunrise.  I was thinking over my past stirring life, and
was so haunted by the remembrance of evil deeds unrevenged that I could
not sleep; the old Egyptian at my side, however, slept and dreamt
peacefully enough, lulled by the monotonous tones of the harness bells,
the sound of the horses' hoofs and the murmur of the Euphrates.  It was a
wonderfully still, beautiful night; the moon and stars were so brilliant,
that our road and the landscape were lighted up almost with the
brightness of day.  For the last hour we had not seen a single vehicle,
foot-passenger, or horseman; we had heard that all the neighboring
population had assembled in Babylon to celebrate your birthday, gaze with
wonder at the splendor of your court, and enjoy your liberality.  At last
the irregular beat of horses' hoofs, and the sound of bells struck my
ear, and a few minutes later I distinctly heard cries of distress.  My
resolve was taken at once; I made my Persian servant dismount, sprang
into his saddle, told the driver of the cart in which my slaves were
sitting not to spare his mules, loosened my dagger and sword in their
scabbards, and spurred my horse towards the place from whence the cries
came.  They grew louder and louder.  I had not ridden a minute, when I
came on a fearful scene.  Three wild-looking fellows had just pulled a
youth, dressed in the white robes of a Magian, from his horse, stunned
him with heavy blows, and, just as I reached them, were on the point of
throwing him into the Euphrates, which at that place washes the roots
of the palms and fig-trees bordering the high-road.  I uttered my Greek
war-cry, which has made many an enemy tremble before now, and rushed on
the murderers.  Such fellows are always cowards; the moment they saw one
of their accomplices mortally wounded, they fled.  I did not pursue them,
but stooped down to examine the poor boy, who was severely wounded.  How
can I describe my horror at seeing, as I believed, your brother Bartja?
Yes, they were the very same features that I had seen, first at Naukratis
and then in Theodorus' workshop, they were .  .  ."

"Marvellous!"  interrupted Hystaspes.

"Perhaps a little too much so to be credible," added the king.  "Take
care, Hellene! remember my arm reaches far.  I shall have the truth of
your story put to the proof."

"I am accustomed," answered Phanes bowing low, "to follow the advice of
our wise philosopher Pythagoras, whose fame may perhaps have reached your
ears, and always, before speaking, to consider whether what I am going to
say may not cause me sorrow in the future."

"That sounds well; but, by Mithras, I knew some one who often spoke of
that great teacher, and yet in her deeds turned out to be a most faithful
disciple of Angramainjus.  You know the traitress, whom we are going to
extirpate from the earth like a poisonous viper to-day."

"Will you forgive me," answered Phanes, seeing the anguish expressed in
the king's features, "if I quote another of the great master's maxims?"

"Speak."

"Blessings go as quickly as they come.  Therefore bear thy lot patiently.
Murmur not, and remember that the gods never lay a heavier weight on any
man than he can bear.  Hast thou a wounded heart? touch it as seldom as
thou wouldst a sore eye.  There are only two remedies for heart-
sickness:--hope and patience."

Cambyses listened to this sentence, borrowed from the golden maxims of
Pythagoras, and smiled bitterly at the word "patience."  Still the
Athenian's way of speaking pleased him, and he told him to go on with his
story.

Phanes made another deep obeisance, and continued: "We carried the
unconscious youth to my carriage, and brought him to the nearest station.
There he opened his eyes, looked anxiously at me, and asked who I was and
what had happened to him?  The master of the station was standing by, so
I was obliged to give the name of Gyges in order not to excite his
suspicions by belying my pass, as it was only through this that I could
obtain fresh horses.

"This wounded young man seemed to know Gyges, for he shook his head and
murmured: 'You are not the man you give yourself out for.' Then he closed
his eyes again, and a violent attack of fever came on.

"We undressed, bled him and bound up his wounds.  My Persian servant, who
had served as overlooker in Amasis' stables and had seen Bartja there,
assisted by the old Egyptian who accompanied me, was very helpful, and
asserted untiringly that the wounded man could be no other than your
brother.  When we had cleansed the blood from his face, the master of the
station too swore that there could be no doubt of his being the younger
son of your great father Cyrus.  Meanwhile my Egyptian companion had
fetched a potion from the travelling medicine-chest, without which an
Egyptian does not care to leave his native country.

[A similar travelling medicine-chest is to be seen in the Egyptian
Museum at Berlin.  It is prettily and compendiously fitted up, and
must be very ancient, for the inscription on the chest, which
contained it stated that it was made in the 11th dynasty (end of the
third century B. C.) in the reign of King Mentuhotep.]

The drops worked wonders; in a few hours the fever was quieted, and at
sunrise the patient opened his eyes once more.  We bowed down before him,
believing him to be your brother, and asked if he would like to be taken
to the palace in Babylon.  This he refused vehemently, and asseverated
that he was not the man we took him for, but, .  .  ."

"Who can be so like Bartja? tell me quickly," interrupted the king, "I am
very curious to know this."

"He declared that he was the brother of your high-priest, that his name
was Gaumata, and that this would be proved by the pass which we should
find in the sleeve of his Magian's robe.  The landlord found this
document and, being able to read, confirmed the statement of the sick
youth; he was, however, soon seized by a fresh attack of fever, and began
to speak incoherently."

"Could you understand him?"

"Yes, for his talk always ran on the same subject.  The hanging-gardens
seemed to fill his thoughts.  He must have just escaped some great
danger, and probably had had a lover's meeting there with a woman called
Mandane."

"Mandane, Mandane," said Cambyses in a low voice; "if I do not mistake,
that is the name of the highest attendant on Amasis' daughter."

These words did not escape the sharp ears of the Greek.  He thought a
moment and then exclaimed with a smile; "Set the prisoners free, my King;
I will answer for it with my own head, that Bartja was not in the
hanging-gardens."

The king was surprised at this speech but not angry.  The free,
unrestrained, graceful manner of this Athenian towards himself produced
the same impression, that a fresh sea-breeze makes when felt for the
first time.  The nobles of his own court, even his nearest relations,
approached him bowing and cringing, but this Greek stood erect in his
presence; the Persians never ventured to address their ruler without a
thousand flowery and flattering phrases, but the Athenian was simple,
open and straightforward.  Yet his words were accompanied by such a charm
of action and expression, that the king could understand them,
notwithstanding the defective Persian in which they were clothed, better
than the allegorical speeches of his own subjects.  Nitetis and Phanes
were the only human beings, who had ever made him forget that he was a
king.  With them he was a man speaking to his fellow-man, instead of a
despot speaking with creatures whose very existence was the plaything of
his own caprice.  Such is the effect produced by real manly dignity,
superior culture and the consciousness of a right to freedom, on the mind
even of a tyrant.  But there was something beside all this, that had
helped to win Cambyses' favor for the Athenian.  This man's coming seemed
as if it might possibly give him back the treasure he had believed was
lost and more than lost.  But how could the life of such a foreign
adventurer be accepted as surety for the sons of the highest Persians in
the realm?  The proposal, however, did not make him angry.  On the
contrary, he could not help smiling at the boldness of this Greek, who in
his eagerness had freed himself from the cloth which hung over his mouth
and beard, and exclaimed: "By Mithras, Greek, it really seems as if you
were to prove a messenger of good for us!  I accept your offer.  If the
prisoners, notwithstanding your supposition, should still prove guilty
you are bound to pass your whole life at my court and in my service, but
if, on the contrary, you are able to prove what I so ardently long for,
I will make you richer than any of your countrymen."

Phanes answered by a smile which seemed to decline this munificent offer,
and asked: "Is it permitted me to put a few questions to yourself and to
the officers of your court?"

"You are allowed to say and ask whatever you wish."

At this moment the master of the huntsmen, one of those who daily ate at
the king's table, entered, out of breath from his endeavors to hasten the
preparations, and announced that all was ready.

"They must wait," was the king's imperious answer.  "I am not sure, that
we shall hunt at all to-day.  Where is Bischen, the captain of police?"

Datis, the so-called "eye of the king,"  who held the office filled in
modern days by a minister of police, hurried from the room, returning in
a few minutes with the desired officer.  These moments Phanes made use of
for putting various questions on important points to the nobles who were
present.

"What news can you bring of the prisoners?"  asked the king, as the man
lay prostrate before him.  "Victory to the king!  They await death with
calmness, for it is sweet to die by thy will."

"Have you heard anything of their conversation?"

"Yes, my Ruler."

"Do they acknowledge their guilt, when speaking to each other?"

"Mithras alone knows the heart; but you, my prince, if you could hear
them speak, would believe in their innocence, even as I the humblest of
your servants."

The captain looked up timidly at the king, fearing lest these words
should have excited his anger; Cambyses, however, smiled kindly instead
of rebuking him.  But a sudden thought darkened his brow again directly,
and in a low voice he asked: "When was Croesus executed?"

The man trembled at this question; the perspiration stood on his
forehead, and he could scarcely stammer the words: "He is.... he has....
we thought...."

"What did you think?"  interrupted Cambyses, and a new light of hope
seemed to dawn in his mind.  "Is it possible, that you did not carry out
my orders at once?  Can Croesus still be alive?  Speak at once, I must
know the whole truth."

The captain writhed like a worm at his lord's feet, and at last stammered
out, raising his hands imploringly towards the king: "Have mercy, have
mercy, my Lord the king!  I am a poor man, and have thirty children,
fifteen of whom .  .  ."

"I wish to know if Croesus is living or dead."

"He is alive!  He has done so much for me, and I did not think I was
doing wrong in allowing him to live a few hours longer, that he might..."

"That is enough," said the king breathing freely.  "This once your
disobedience shall go unpunished, and the treasurer may give you two
talents, as you have so many children.--Now go to the prisoners,--tell
Croesus to come hither, and the others to be of good courage, if they are
innocent."

"My King is the light of the world, and an ocean of mercy."

"Bartja and his friends need not remain any longer in confinement; they
can walk in the court of the palace, and you will keep guard over them.
You, Datis, go at once to the hanging-gardens and order Boges to defer
the execution of the sentence on the Egyptian Princess; and further, I
wish messengers sent to the post-station mentioned by the Athenian, and
the wounded man brought hither under safe escort."

The " king's eye " was on the point of departure, but Phanes detained
him, saying: "Does my King allow me to make one remark?"

"Speak."

"It appears to me, that the chief of the eunuchs could give the most
accurate information.  During his delirium the youth often mentioned his
name in connection with that of the girl he seemed to be in love with."

"Go at once, Datis, and bring him quickly."

"The high-priest  Oropastes, Gaumata's  brother, ought to appear too; and
Mandane, whom I have just been assured on the most positive authority, is
the principal attendant of the Egyptian Princess."

"Fetch her, Datis."

"If Nitetis herself could .  .  ."

At this the king turned pale and a cold shiver ran through his limbs.
How he longed to see his darling again!  But the strong man was afraid of
this woman's reproachful looks; he knew the captivating power that lay in
her eyes.  So he pointed to the door, saying "Fetch Boges and Mandane;
the Egyptian Princess is to remain in the hanging-gardens, under strict
custody."

The Athenian bowed deferentially; as if he would say: "Here no one has a
right to command but the king."

Cambyses looked well pleased, seated himself again on the purple divan,
and resting his forehead on his hand, bent his eyes on the ground and
sank into deep thought.  The picture of the woman he loved so dearly
refused to be banished; it came again and again, more and more vividly,
and the thought that these features could not have deceived him--that
Nitetis must be innocent--took a firmer root in his mind; he had already
begun to hope.  If Bartja could be cleared, there was no error that might
not be conceivable; in that case he would go to the hanging-gardens, take
her hand and listen to her defence.  When love has once taken firm hold
of a man in riper years, it runs and winds through his whole nature like
one of his veins, and can only be destroyed with his life.

The entrance of Croesus roused Cambyses from his dream; he raised the old
man kindly from the prostrate position at his feet, into which he had
thrown himself on entering, and said: "You offended me, but I will be
merciful; I have not forgotten that my father, on his dying bed, told me
to make you my friend and adviser.  Take your life back as a gift from
me, and forget my anger as I wish to forget your want of reverence.  This
man says he knows you; I should like to hear your opinion of his
conjectures."

Croesus turned away much affected, and after having heartily welcomed the
Athenian, asked him to relate his suppositions and the grounds on which
they were founded.

The old man grew more and more attentive as the Greek went on, and when
he had finished raised his hands to heaven, crying: "Pardon me, oh ye
eternal gods, if I have ever questioned the justice of your decrees.  Is
not this marvellous, Cambyses?  My son once placed himself in great
danger to save the life of this noble Athenian, whom the gods have
brought hither to repay the deed tenfold.  Had Phanes been murdered in
Egypt, this hour might have seen our sons executed."

And as he said this he embraced Hystaspes; both shared one feeling; their
sons had been as dead and were now alive.

The king, Phanes, and all the Persian dignitaries watched the old men
with deep sympathy, and though the proofs of Bartja's innocence were as
yet only founded on conjecture, not one of those present doubted it one
moment longer.  Wherever the belief in a man's guilt is but slight, his
defender finds willing listeners.




CHAPTER VI.

THE sharp-witted Athenian saw clearly how matters lay in this sad story;
nor did it escape him that malice had had a hand in the affair.  How
could Bartja's dagger have come into the hanging-gardens except through
treachery?

While he was telling the king his suspicions, Oropastes was led into the
hall.

The king looked angrily at him and without one preliminary word, asked:
"Have you a brother?"

"Yes, my King.  He and I are the only two left out of a family of six.
My parents .  .  ."

"Is your brother younger or older than yourself?"

"I was the eldest of the family; my brother, the youngest, was the joy of
my father's old age."

"Did you ever notice a remarkable likeness between him and one of my
relations?"

"Yes, my King.  Gaumata is so like your brother Bartja, that in the
school for priests at Rhagae, where he still is, he was always called
"the prince."

"Has he been at Babylon very lately?"

"He was here for the last time at the New Year's festival."

"Are you speaking the truth?"

"The sin of lying would be doubly punishable in one who wears my robes,
and holds my office."

The king's face flushed with anger at this answer and he exclaimed:
"Nevertheless  you  are lying; Gaumata was here yesterday evening.  You
may well tremble."

"My life belongs to the king, whose are all things; nevertheless I swear
--the high-priest-by the most high God, whom I have served faithfully for
thirty years, that I know nothing of my brother's presence in Babylon
yesterday."

"Your face looks as if you were speaking the truth."

"You know that I was not absent from your side the whole of that high
holiday."

"I know it."

Again the doors opened; this time they admitted the trembling Mandane.
The high-priest cast such a look of astonishment and enquiry on her, that
the king saw she must be in some way connected with him, and therefore,
taking no notice of the trembling girl who lay  at his  feet,  he asked:
"Do  you  know  this woman?"

"Yes, my King.  I obtained for her the situation of upper attendant to
the--may Auramazda forgive her!--King of Egypt's daughter."

"What led you,--a priest,--to do a favor to this girl?"

"Her parents died of the same pestilence, which carried off my brothers.
Her father was a priest, respected, and a friend of our family; so we
adopted the little girl, remembering the words: 'If thou withhold help
from the man who is pure in heart and from his widow and orphans, then
shall the pure, subject earth cast thee out unto the stinging-nettles,
to painful sufferings and to the most fearful regions!'  Thus I became
her foster-father, and had her brought up with my youngest brother until
he was obliged to enter the school for priests."

The king exchanged a look of intelligence with Phanes, and asked: "Why
did not you keep the girl longer with you?"

"When she had received the ear-rings I, as priest, thought it more
suitable to send such a young girl away from my house, and to put her in
a position to earn her own living."

"Has she seen your brother since she has been grown up?"

"Yes, my King.  Whenever Gaumata came to see me I allowed him to be with
her as with a sister; but on discovering later that the passionate love
of youth had begun to mingle with the childish friendship of former days,
I felt strengthened in my resolution to send her away."

"Now we know enough," said the king, commanding the high-priest by a nod
to retire.  He then looked down on the prostrate girl, and said
imperiously: "Rise!"

Mandane rose, trembling with fear.  Her fresh young face was pale as
death, and her red lips were blue from terror.

"Tell all you know about yesterday evening; but remember, a lie and your
death are one and the same."

The girl's knees trembled so violently that she could hardly stand, and
her fear entirely took away the power of speaking.

"I have not much patience," exclaimed Cambyses.  Mandane started, grew
paler still, but could not speak.  Then Phanes came forward and asked the
angry king to allow him to examine the girl, as he felt sure that fear
alone had closed her lips and that a kind word would open them.

Cambyses allowed this, and the Athenian's words proved true; no sooner
had he assured Mandane of the good-will of all present, laid his hand on
her head and spoken kindly to her, than the source of her tears was
unlocked, she wept freely, the spell which had seemed to chain her
tongue, vanished, and she began to tell her story, interrupted only by
low sobs.  She hid nothing, confessed that Boges had given her his
sanction and assistance to the meeting with Gaumata, and ended by saying:
"I know that I have forfeited my life, and am the worst and most
ungrateful creature in the world; but none of all this would have
happened, if Oropastes had allowed his brother to marry me."

The serious audience, even the king himself, could not resist a smile at
the longing tone in which these words were spoken and the fresh burst of
sobs which succeeded them.

And this smile saved her life.  But Cambyses would not have smiled, after
hearing such a story, if Mandane, with that instinct which always seems
to stand at a woman's command in the hour of her greatest danger, had not
known how to seize his weak side, and use it for her own interests, by
dwelling much longer than was necessary, on the delight which Nitetis had
manifested at the king's gifts.

"A thousand times" cried she, "did my mistress kiss the presents which
were brought from you, O King; but oftenest of all did she press her lips
to the nosegay which you plucked with your own hands for her, some days
ago.  And when it began to fade, she took every flower separately, spread
out the petals with care, laid them between woollen cloths, and, with her
own hands, placed her heavy, golden ointment-box upon them, that they
might dry and so she might keep them always as a remembrance of your
kindness."

Seeing Cambyses' awful features grow a little milder at these words, the
girl took fresh courage, and at last began to put loving words into her
mistress's mouth which the latter had never uttered; professing that she
herself had heard Nitetis a hundred times murmur the word "Cambyses" in
her sleep with indescribable tenderness.  She ended her confession by
sobbing and praying for mercy.

The king looked down at her with infinite contempt, though without anger,
and pushing her away with his foot said: "Out of my sight, you dog of a
woman!  Blood like yours would soil the executioner's axe.  Out of my
sight!"

Mandane needed no second command to depart.  The words "out of my sight"
sounded like sweet music in her ears.  She rushed through the courts of
the palace, and out into the streets, crying like a mad woman "I am free!
I am free!"

She, had scarcely left the hall, when Datis, the "king's eye" reappeared
with the news that the chief of the eunuchs was nowhere to be found.  He
had vanished from the hanging-gardens in an unaccountable manner; but he,
Datis, had left word with his subordinates that he was to be searched for
and brought, dead or alive.

The king went off into another violent fit of passion at this news, and
threatened the officer of police, who prudently concealed the excitement
of the crowd from his lord, with a severe punishment, if Boges were not
in their hands by the next morning.

As he finished speaking, a eunuch was brought into the hall, sent by the
king's mother to ask an interview for herself with her son.

Cambyses prepared at once to comply with his mother's wish, at the same
time giving Phanes his hand to kiss, a rare honor, only shown to those
that ate at the king's table, and saying: "All the prisoners are to be
set at liberty.  Go to your sons, you anxious, troubled fathers, and
assure them of my mercy and favor.  I think we shall be able to find a
satrapy a-piece for them, as compensation for to-night's undeserved
imprisonment.  To you, my Greek friend, I am deeply indebted.  In
discharge of this debt, and as a means of retaining you at my court,
I beg you to accept one hundred talents from my treasury."

"I shall scarcely be able to use so large a sum," said Phanes, bowing
low.

"Then abuse it," said the king with a friendly smile, and calling out to
him, "We shall meet again at supper," he left the hall accompanied by his
court.

........................

In the meantime there had been sadness and mourning in the apartments of
the queen-mother.  Judging from the contents of the letter to Bartja,