“Kandaules must keep his eyes open, if he values his own life—­go!”

III.—­Conflicting Evidence

The hunt was over, and Bartja, who had invited his bosom friends, Darius, Gyges, Zopyrus, and Croesus, to drink a parting-cup with him, sat with the first three in the bower of the royal gardens.  They talked long of love, of their ambitions, of the influence of stars on human destinies, when Croesus rapidly approached the arbour.  When he beheld Bartja, he stood transfixed, then whispered to him, “Unhappy boy, you are still here?  Fly for your life!  The whip-bearers are close on my heels.”

“What do you mean?”

“Fly, I tell you, even if your visit to the hanging gardens was innocently meant.  You know Cambyses’ violent temper.  You know his jealousy of you; and your visit to the Egyptian to-night....”

“My visit?  I have never left this garden!”

“Don’t add a lie to your offense.  Save yourself, quickly.”

“I speak the truth, and I shall remain.”

“You are infatuated.  We saw you in the hanging-gardens not an hour ago.”

Bartja appealed to his friends, who confirmed on oath the truth of his assertion; and before Croesus could arrive at a solution of the mystery, the soldiers had arrived, led by an officer who had served under Bartja.  He had orders to arrest everybody found in the suspect’s company, but at the risk of his life urged Bartja to escape the king’s fury.  His men would blindly follow his command.  But Bartja steadfastly refused.  He was innocent, and knew that Cambyses, though hasty, was not unjust.

Two hours later Bartja and his friends stood before the king who had just recovered from an epileptic fit.  A few hours earlier he would have killed Bartja with his own hands.  Now he was ready to lend an ear to both sides.  Boges first related that he was with the Achaemenidae, looking at the blue lily, and called Kandaules to inquire if everything was in order.  On being told that Nitetis had not tasted food or drink all day, he sent Kandaules to fetch a physician.  It was then that he saw Bartja by the princess’s window.  She herself came out of the sleep-room.  Croesus called to Bartja, and the two figures disappeared behind a cypress.  He went to search the house and found Nitetis lying unconscious on a couch.  Hystaspes and the other nobles confirmed the eunuch’s words, and even Croesus had to admit their substantial truth, but added that they must have been deceived by some remarkable likeness—­at which Boges grew pale.

Bartja’s friends were equally definite in their evidence for the accused.  Cambyses looked first on the one, then on the other party of these strange witnesses.  Then Bartja begged permission to speak.

“A son of Cyrus,” he said, “would rather die than lie.  I confess no judge was ever placed in so perplexing a position.  But were the entire Persian nation to rise up against you, and swear that Cambyses had committed an evil deed, and you were to say, ‘I did not commit it,’ I, Bartja, would give all Persia the lie and exclaim, ’Ye are all false witnesses!  A son of Cyrus cannot allow his mouth to deal in lies.’  I swear to you that I am innocent.  I have not once set foot in the hanging gardens since my return.”