ed land under the sun. The man who possesses that kingdom need
not envy the very gods themselves. It would be mere child's play to
conquer that beautiful country. Ten years there gave me a perfect insight
into the condition of things, and I know that their entire military caste
would not be sufficient to resist one such troop as your Immortals. Well,
who knows what the future may bring! Perhaps we may all make a little
trip together to the Nile some day. In my opinion, your good swords have
been rather long idle." These well-calculated words were received with
such shouts of applause, that the king turned his horse to enquire the
cause. Phanes answered quickly that the Achaemenidae were rejoicing in
the thought that a war might possibly be near at hand.

"What war?" asked the king, with the first smile that had been seen on
his face for many days.

"We were only speaking in general of the possibility of such a thing,"
answered Phanes carelessly; then, riding up to the king's side, his voice
took an impressive tone full of feeling, and looking earnestly into his
face, he began: "It is true, my Sovereign, that I was not born in this
beautiful country as one of your subjects, nor can I boast of a long
acquaintance with the most powerful of monarchs, but yet I cannot resist
the presumptuous, perhaps criminal thought, that the gods at my birth
appointed me to be your real friend. It is not your rich gifts that have
drawn me to you. I did not need them, for I belong to the wealthier class
of my countrymen, and I have no son,--no heir,--to whom I can bequeath my
treasures. Once I had a boy--a beautiful, gentle child;--but I was not
going to speak of that,--I . . . Are you offended at my freedom of
speech, my Sovereign?"

"What is there to offend me?" answered the king, who had never been
spoken to in this manner before, and felt strongly attracted to the
original foreigner.

"Till to-day I felt that your grief was too sacred to be disturbed, but
now the time has come to rouse you from it and to make your heart glow
once more. You will have to hear what must be very painful to you."

"There is nothing more now, that can grieve me."

"What I am going to tell you will not give you pain; on the contrary, it
will rouse your anger."

"You make me curious."

"You have been shamefully deceived; you and that lovely creature, who
died such an early death a few days ago."

Cambyses' eyes flashed a demand for further information