hom were several who had been his
companions at the school for priests. He felt ashamed and afraid of being
seen by the very youths, whom he had often treated proudly and haughtily
because he was the brother of the high-priest, threw Mandane a purse of
gold, which his brother had given him at parting, and ordered the driver
to go on as fast as possible. The mules galloped off. Mandane kicked the
purse away, rushed after the carriage and clung to it firmly. One of the
wheels caught her dress and dragged her down. With the strength of
despair she sprang up, ran after the mules, overtook them on a slight
ascent which had lessened their speed, and seized the reins. The driver
used his three-lashed whip, or scourge, the creatures reared, pulled the
girl down and rushed on. Her last cry of agony pierced the wounds of the
mutilated man like a sharp lance-thrust.

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

On the twelfth day after Nitetis' death Cambyses went out hunting, in the
hope that the danger and excitement of the sport might divert his mind.
The magnates and men of high rank at his court received him with thunders
of applause, for which he returned cordial thanks. These few days of
grief had worked a great change in a man so unaccustomed to suffering as
Cambyses. His face was pale, his raven-black hair and beard had grown
grey, and the consciousness of victory which usually shone in his eyes
was dimmed. Had he not, only too painfully, experienced that there was a
stronger will than his own, and that, easily as he could destroy, it did
not be in his power to preserve the life of the meanest creature? Before
starting, Cambyses mustered his troop of sportsmen, and calling Gobryas,
asked why Phanes was not there.

"My King did not order . . ."

"He is my guest and companion, once for all; call him and follow us."

Gobryas bowed, dashed back to the palace, and in half an hour reappeared
among the royal retinue with Phanes.

The Athenian was warmly welcomed by many of the group, a fact which seems
strange when we remember that courtiers are of all men the most prone to
envy, and a royal favorite always the most likely object to excite their
ill will. But Phanes seemed a rare exception to this rule. He had met the
Achaemenidae in so frank and winning a manner, had excited so many hopes
by the hints he had thrown out of an expected and important war, and had
aroused so much merriment by well-told jests, such as the Persians had
nev