icials,
in whose faces it was easy to read that they were afraid of their
ruler's wrath, and preferred keeping as far from him as possible. The
dazzling light and oppressive heat of a Babylonian May day came in
through the open windows, and not a sound was to be heard in the great
room, except the whining of a large dog of the Epirote breed, which had
just received a tremendous kick from Cambyses for venturing to fawn on
his master, and was the only being that ventured to disturb the solemn
stillness. Just before Hystaspes was led in by the chamberlain, Cambyses
had sprung up from his couch. This idle repose had become unendurable,
he felt suffocated with pain and anger. The dog's howl suggested a new
idea to his poor tortured brain, thirsting for forgetfulness.

"We will go out hunting!" he shouted to the poor startled courtiers. The
master of the hounds, the equerries, and huntsmen hastened to obey his
orders. He called after them, "I shall ride the unbroken horse Reksch;
get the falcons ready, let all the dogs out and order every one to come,
who can throw a spear. We'll clear the preserves!"

He then threw himself down on his divan again, as if these words had
quite exhausted his powerful frame, and did not see that Hystaspes
had entered, for his sullen gaze was fixed on the motes playing in the
sunbeams that glanced through the window.

Hystaspes did not dare to address him; but he stationed himself in the
window so as to break the stream of motes and thus draw attention to
himself.

At first Cambyses looked angrily at him and his rent garments, and then
asked with a bitter smile; "What do you want?"

"Victory to the king! Your poor servant and uncle has come to entreat
his ruler's mercy."

"Then rise and go! You know that I have no mercy for perjurers and false
swearers. 'Tis better to have a dead son than a dishonorable one."

"But if Bartja should not be guilty, and Darius..."

"You dare to question the justice of my sentence?"

"That be far from me. Whatever the king does is good, and cannot be
gainsaid; but still..."

"Be silent! I will not hear the subject mentioned again. You are to be
pitied as a father; but have these last few hours brought me any joy?
Old man, I grieve for you, but I have as little power to rescind his
punishment as you to recall his crime."

"But if Bartja really should not be guilty--if the gods..."

"Do you think the gods will come to the help of perjurers and
deceivers?