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,
Kassandane had made up her mind that Nitetis was faithless, and her own
beloved son innocent. But in whom could she ever place confidence again,
now that this girl, whom she had looked upon as the very embodiment of
every womanly virtue, had proved reprobate and faithless--now that the
noblest youths in the realm had proved perjurers?
Nitetis was more than dead for her; Bartja, Croesus, Darius, Gyges,
Araspes, all so closely allied to her by relationship and friendship,
as good as dead. And yet she durst not indulge her sorrow; she had to
restrain the despairing outbursts of grief of her impetuous child.
Atossa behaved like one deprived of her senses when she heard of the
sentences of death. The self-control which she had learnt from Nitetis
gave way, and her old impetuosity burst forth again with double
vehemence.
Nitetis, her only friend,--Bartja, the brother whom she loved with her
whole heart,--Darius, whom she felt now she not only looked up to as her
deliverer, but loved with all the warmth of a first affection--Croesus
to whom she clung like a father,--she was to lose every one she loved in
one day.
She tore her dress and her hair, called Cambyses a monster, and every
one who could possibly believe in the guilt of such people, infatuated
or insane. Then her tears would burst out afresh, she would utter
imploring supplications to the gods for mercy, and a few minutes later,
begin conjuring her mother to take her to the hanging-gardens, that they
might hear Nitetis' defence of her own conduct.
Kassandane tried to soothe the violent girl, and assured her every
attempt to visit the hanging-gardens would be in vain. Then Atossa began
to rage again, until at last her mother was forced to command silence,
and as morning had already began to dawn, sent her to her sleeping-room.
The girl obeyed, but instead of going to bed, seated herself at a tall
window looking towards the hanging-gardens. Her eyes filled with tears
again, as she thought of her friend--her sister-sitting in that palace
alone, forsaken, banished, and looking forward to an ignominious death.
Suddenly her tearful, weary eyes lighted up as if from some strong
purpose, and instead of gazing into the distance, she fixed them on
a black speck which flew towards her in a straight line from Nitetis'
house, becoming larger and more distinct every moment; and finally
settling on a cypress before her window. The sorrow vanished at once
from her lovely face and with a deep sigh of relief she sprang up,
exclaiming:
"Oh, there is the Homai, the bird of good fortune! Now everything will
turn out well."
It was the same bird of paradise which had brought so much comfort to
Nitetis that now gave poor Atossa fresh confidence.
She bent forward to see whether any one was in the garden; and finding
that she would be seen by no one but the old gardener, she jumped out,
trembling like a fawn, plucked a few roses and cypress twigs and took
them to the old man, who had been watching her performances with a
doubtful shake of the head.
She stroked his cheeks coaxingly, put her flowers in his brown hand, and
said: "Do you love me, Sabaces?"
"O, my mistress!" was the only answer the old man could utter, as he
pressed the hem of her robe to his lips.
"I believe you, my old friend, and I will show you how I trust my
faithful, old Sabaces. Hide these flowers carefully and go quickly to
the king's palace. Say that you had to bring fruit for the table. My
poor brother Bartja, and Darius, the son of the noble Hystaspes, are
in prison, near the guard-house of the Immortals. You must manage that
these flowers reach them, with a warm greeting from me, but mind, the
message must be given with the flowers."
"But the guards will not allow me to see the prisoners."
"Take these rings, and slip them into their hands."
"I will do my best."
"I knew you loved me, my good Sabaces. Now make haste, and come back
soon."
The old man went off as fast as he could. Atossa looked thoughtfully
after him, murmuring to herself: "Now they will both know, that I
loved them to the last. The rose means, 'I love you,' and the evergreen
cypress, 'true and steadfast.'" The old man came back in an hour;
bringing her Bartja's favorite ring, and from Darius an Indian
handkerchief dipped in blood.
Atossa ran to meet him; her eyes filled with tears as she took the
tokens, and seating herself under a spreading plane-tree, she pressed
them by turns to her lips, murmuring: "Bartja's ring means that he
thinks of me; the blood-stained handkerchief that Darius is ready to
shed his heart's blood for me."
Atossa smiled as she said this, and her tears, when she thought of
her friends and their sad fate, were quieter, if not less bitter, than
before.
A few hours later a messenger arrived from Croesus with news that the
innocence of Bartja and his friends had been proved, and that Nitetis
was, to all intents and purposes, cleared also.
Kassandane sent at once to the hanging-gardens, with a request that
Nitetis would come to her apartments. Atossa, as unbridled in her joy as
in her grief, ran to meet her friend's litter and flew from one of her
attendants to the other crying: "They are all innocent; we shall not
lose one of them--not one!"
When at last the litter appeared and her loved one, pale as death,
within it, she burst into loud sobs, threw her arms round Nitetis as she
descended, and covered her with kisses and caresses till she perceived
that her friend's strength was failing, that her knees gave way, and she
required a stronger support than Atossa's girlish strength could give.
The Egyptian girl was carried insensible into the queen-mother's
apartments. When she opened her eyes, her head-more like a marble piece
of sculpture than a living head--was resting on the blind queen's lap,
she felt Atossa's warm kisses on her forehead, and Cambyses, who had
obeyed his mother's call, was standing at her side.
She gazed on this circle, including all she loved best, with anxious,
perplexed looks, and at last, recognizing them one by one, passed her
hand across her pale fore head as if to remove a veil, smiled at each,
and closed her eyes once more. She fancied Isis had sent her a beautiful
vision, and wished to hold it fast with all the powers of her mind.
Then Atossa called her by her name, impetuously and lovingly. She opened
her eyes again, and again she saw those loving looks that she fancied
had only been sent her in a dream. Yes, that was her own Atossa--this
her motherly friend, and there stood, not the angry king, but the man
she loved. And now his lips opened too, his stern, severe eyes rested on
her so beseechingly, and he said: "O Nitetis, awake! you must not--you
cannot possibly be guilty!" She moved her head gently with a look of
cheerful denial and a happy smile stole across her features, like a
breeze of early spring over fresh young roses.
"She is innocent! by Mithras, it is impossible that she can be guilty,"
cried the king again, and forgetful of the presence of others, he sank
on his knees.
A Persian physician came up and rubbed her forehead with a sweet-scented
oil, and Nebenchari approached, muttering spells, felt her pulse, shook
his head, and administered a potion from his portable medicine-chest.
This restored her to perfect consciousness; she raised herself with
difficulty into a sitting posture, returned the loving caresses of her
two friends, and then turning to Cambyses, asked: "How could you believe
such a thing of me, my King?" There was no reproach in her tone, but
deep sadness, and Cambyses answered softly, "Forgive me."
Kassandane's blind eyes expressed her gratitude for this
self-renunciation on the part of her son, and she said: "My daughter, I
need your forgiveness too."
"But I never once doubted you," cried Atossa, proudly and joyfully
kissing her friend's lips.
"Your letter to Bartja shook my faith in your innocence," added
Kassandane.
"And yet it was all so simple and natural," answered Nitetis. "Here, my
mother, take this letter from Egypt. Croesus will translate it for you.
It will explain all. Perhaps I was imprudent. Ask your mother to tell
you what you would wish to know, my King. Pray do not scorn my poor, ill
sister. When an Egyptian girl once loves, she cannot forget. But I feel
so frightened. The end must be near. The last hours have been so very,
very terrible. That horrible man, Boges, read me the fearful sentence
of death, and it was that which forced the poison into my hand. Ah, my
heart!"
And with these words she fell back into the arms of Kassandane.
Nebenchari rushed forward, and gave her some more drops, exclaiming: "I
thought so! She has taken poison and her life cannot be saved, though
this antidote may possibly prolong it for a few days." Cambyses stood
by, pale and rigid, following the physician's slightest movements, and
Atossa bathed her friend's forehead with her tears.
"Let some milk be brought," cried Nebenchari, "and my large
medicine-chest; and let attendants be called to carry her away, for
quiet is necessary, above all things."
Atossa hastened into the adjoining room; and Cambyses said to the
physician, but without looking into his face: "Is there no hope?"
"The poison which she has taken results in certain death."
On hearing this the king pushed Nebenchari away from the sick girl,
exclaiming: "She shall live. It is my will. Here, eunuch! summon all the
physicians in Babylon--assemble the priests and Alobeds! She is not to
die; do you hear? she must live, I am the king, and I command it."
Nitetis opened her eyes as if endeavoring to obey her lord. Her face was
turned towards the window, and the bird of paradise with the gold chain
on its foot, was still there, perched on the cypress-tree. Her eyes fell
first on her lover, who had sunk down at her side and was pressing his
burning lips to her right hand. She murmured with a smile: "O, this
great happiness!" Then she saw the bird, and pointed to it with her left
hand, crying: "Look, look, there is the Phoenix, the bird of Ra!"
After saying this she closed her eyes and was soon seized by a violent
attack of fever.