“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