events, it was likely that he might
refuse it, and such an answer would have to be regarded as irrevocable.
So Bartja was obliged to leave Persia in anxiety about the future of
these two who were very dear to him.

Croesus promised to act as mediator in this case also, and before Bartja
left, made him acquainted with Phanes.

The youth had heard such a pleasant account of the Athenian from Sappho,
that he met him with great cordiality, and soon won the fancy of the
older and more experienced man, who gave him many a useful hint, and a
letter to Theopompus, the Milesian, at Naukratis. Phanes concluded by
asking for a private interview.

Bartja returned to his friends looking grave and thoughtful; soon,
however, he forgot his cause of anxiety and joked merrily with them over
a farewell cup. Before he mounted his horse the next morning, Nebenchari
asked to be allowed an audience. He was admitted, and begged Bartja to
take the charge of a large written roll for king Amasis. It contained a
detailed account of Nitetis' sufferings, ending with these words: "Thus
the unhappy victim of your ambitious plans will end her life in a few
hours by poison, to the use of which she was driven by despair. The
arbitrary caprices of the mighty can efface all happiness from the life
of a human creature, just as we wipe a picture from the tablet with a
sponge. Your servant Nebenchari is pining in a foreign land, deprived of
home and property, and the wretched daughter of a king of Egypt dies a
miserable and lingering death by her own hand. Her body will be torn to
pieces by dogs and vultures, after the manner of the Persians. Woe unto
them who rob the innocent of happiness here and of rest beyond the
grave!"

Bartja had not been told the contents of this letter, but promised to
take it with him; he then, amid the joyful shouts of the people, set up
outside the city-gate the stones which, according to a Persian
superstition, were to secure him a prosperous journey, and left Babylon.

Nebenchari, meanwhile, prepared to return to his post by Nitetis'
dying-bed.

Just as he reached the brazen gates between the harem-gardens and the
courts of the large palace, an old man in white robes came up to him. The
sight seemed to fill Nebenchari with terror; he started as if the gaunt
old man had been a ghost. Seeing, however, a friendly and familiar smile
on the face of the other, he quickened his steps, and, holding out his
hand with a heartiness