The queen stood with her back to the curtained doorway and could see down the whole length of the balcony to the head of the staircase.  Zoroaster faced her and the door.  As he spoke, Atossa’s quick eyes caught sight of a figure coming quickly up the last steps of the stairway.  She recognised Nehushta instantly, but no trembling of her lids or colouring of her cheek, betrayed that she had seen the approach of her enemy.  She fixed her deep-blue eyes upon Zoroaster’s, and gazing somewhat sadly, she spoke in low and gentle tones: 

“The time has seemed long to me since you rode away, Zoroaster,” she said.

Zoroaster, astonished at the manner in which she spoke, turned pale, and looked down coldly at her beautiful face.  At that moment Nehushta stepped upon the smooth marble pavement of the balcony.

Still Atossa kept her eyes fixed on Zoroaster’s.

“You answer me nothing?” she said in broken tones.  Then suddenly, as though acting under an irresistible impulse, she threw her arms wildly about his neck and kissed him passionately again and again.

“Oh Zoroaster, Zoroaster, my beloved!” she cried, “you must never, never leave me again!” And again she kissed him, and fell forward upon his breast, holding him so tightly that, for a moment, he did not know which way to move.  He put his hands upon her shoulders, to her waist—­to try to push her from him.  But it was in vain; she clung to him desperately and sobbed upon his breast.

In the sudden and fearful embarrassment in which he was placed, he did not hear a short, low groan far off behind him, nor the sound of quickly retreating steps upon the stairs.  But Atossa heard and rejoiced fiercely; and when she looked up, Nehushta was gone, with the incurable wound in her breast.

Atossa suddenly let her arms fall from the warrior’s neck, looked into his eyes once, and then, with a short, sharp cry, she buried her face in her hands and leaned back against the door-post by the heavy striped curtain.

“Oh, my God!  What have I done?” she moaned.

Zoroaster stood for one moment in hesitation and doubt.  It seemed as though he had received a sudden revelation of numberless things he had never understood.  He spoke quietly, at last, with a great effort, and his voice sounded kindly.

“I thank the good powers that I do not love thee—­and I would that thou didst not love me.  For I am the Great King’s servant, faithful to death—­and if I loved thee I should be a liar, and a coward, and the basest of all mankind.  Forget, I pray thee, that thou hast spoken, and let me depart in peace.  For the Great King is at hand, and thou must not suffer that he find thee weeping, lest he think thou fearest to meet Phraortes the Median face to face.  Forget, I pray thee—­and forgive thy servant if he have done anything amiss.”

Atossa looked up suddenly.  Her eyes were bright and clear, and there was not a trace of tears in them.  She laughed harshly.