Nehushta hesitated and then, in a moment, she comprehended the whole nobility of soul of the young king,—­a man at whose words the whole land trembled, who crushed his enemies like empty egg-shells beneath his feet, and yet who, when he held the woman he loved completely in his power, refused, even for a moment, to intrude his presence upon her against her wish.

She sprang from her seat and ran to him, and kneeled on one knee and took his hand.  He did not look at her, but his own hand trembled violently in hers, and he made as though he would lift her to her feet.

“Nay,” she cried, “let not my lord be angry with his handmaiden!  Let the king grant me my request, for he is the king of men and of kings!” In her sudden emotion she spoke once more in the form of a humble subject addressing her sovereign.

“Speak, princess,” answered Darius.  “If it be possible, I will grant your request.”

“I would—­” she stopped, and again the generous blood overspread her dark cheek.  “I would—­I know not what I would, saving to thank thee for thy goodness and kindness—­I was unhappy, and thou hast comforted me.  I meant not that it was best that I should not look upon the king’s face.”  She spoke the last words in so low a tone as she bent her head, that Darius could scarcely hear them.  But his willing ears interpreted rightly what she said, and he understood.

“Shall I come to you to-morrow, princess, at the same hour?” he asked, almost humbly.

“Nay, the king knoweth that the garden is ever full of the women of the court,” said Nehushta, hesitating; for she thought that it would be a very different matter to be seen from a distance by all the ladies of the palace in conversation with the king.

“Do not fear,” answered Darius.  “The garden shall be yours.  There are other bowers of roses in Shushan whither the women can go.  None but you shall enter here, so long as it be your pleasure.  Farewell, I will come to you to-morrow at noon.”

He turned and looked into her eyes, and then she took his hand and silently placed it upon her forehead in thanks.  In a moment he was gone and she could hear his quick tread upon the marble of the steps outside, and in the path through the roses.  When she knew that he was out of sight, Nehushta went out and stood in the broad blaze of the noonday sun.  She passed her hand over her forehead, as though she had been dazed.  It seemed as though a change had come over her and she could not understand it.

In the glad security of being alone, she ran swiftly down one of the paths, and across by another.  Then she stopped short and bent down a great bough of blooming roses and buried her beautiful dark face in the sweet leaves and smelled the perfume, and laughed.