o that whatever
happened the priestess could claim that her word was true, the fault was
in the interpretation.

Croesus, accepting the oracles as favorable, made an alliance with
Sparta, and marched his army into Media, where he inflicted much damage.
Cyrus met him with a larger army, and a battle ensued. Neither party
could claim a victory, but Croesus returned to Sardis, to collect more
men and obtain aid from his allies. He might have been successful had
Cyrus waited till his preparations were complete. But the Persian king
followed him to his capital, defeated him in a battle near Sardis, and
besieged him in that city.

Sardis was considered impregnable, and Croesus could easily have held
out till his allies arrived had it not been for one of those unfortunate
incidents of which war has so many to tell. Sardis was strongly
fortified on every side but one. Here the rocky height on which it was
built was so steep as to be deemed inaccessible, and walls were thought
unnecessary. Yet a soldier of the garrison made his way down this
precipice to pick up his helmet, which had fallen. A Persian soldier saw
him, tried to climb up, and found it possible. Others followed him, and
the garrison, to their consternation, found the enemy within their
walls. The gates were opened to the army without, and the whole city was
speedily taken by storm.

Croesus would have been killed but for a miracle. His deaf and dumb
son, seeing a Persian about to strike him down, burst into speech
through the agony of terror, crying out, "Man, do not kill Croesus!"
The story goes that he ever afterwards retained the power of speech.

Cyrus had given orders that the life of Croesus should be spared, and
the unhappy captive was brought before him. But the cruel Persian had a
different death in view. He proposed to burn the captive king, together
with fourteen Lydian youths, on a great pile of wood which he had
constructed. We give what followed as told by Herodotus, though its
truth cannot be vouched for at this late day.

As Croesus lay in fetters on the already kindled pile and thought of
this terrible ending to his boasted happiness, he groaned bitterly, and
cried in tones of anguish, "Solon! Solon! Solon!"

"What does he mean?" asked Cyrus of the interpreters. They questioned
Croesus, and learned from him what Solon had said. Cyrus heard this
story not without alarm. His own life was yet to end; might not a like
fate come to him? He ordere