As soon as the news reached Stakhar, Darius would, in all probability, set out for Media in haste to arrive at the scene of the disturbance.  He would probably leave Zoroaster behind to manage the affairs of state, which had centred in Stakhar during the last year and more.  If, however, he took him with him, and left the court to follow on as far as Shushan, Atossa could easily cause an incursion of the barbarous tribes from the desert.  The people of the south would find themselves abandoned by the king, and would rise against him, and Atossa could easily seize the power.  If Zoroaster remained behind, the best plan would be to let the barbarians take their own course and destroy him.  Separated from any armed force of magnitude sufficient to cope with a sudden invasion, he would surely fall in the struggle, or take refuge in an ignominious flight.  With the boldness of her nature, Atossa trusted to circumstances to provide her with an easy escape for herself; and in the last instance, she trusted, as she had ever done, to her marvellous beauty to save her from harm.  To her beauty alone she owed her escape from many a fit of murderous anger in the time of Cambyses, and to her beauty she owed her salvation when Darius found her at Shushan, the wife and accomplice of the impostor Smerdis.  She might again save herself by that means, if by no other, should she, by any mischance, fall into the hands of the barbarians.  But she was determined to overthrow Zoroaster, even if she had to destroy her husband’s kingdom in the effort.  It was a bold and simple plan, and she doubted not of being successful.

During the months while she was planning these things, she was very calm and placid; her eyes met Zoroaster’s with a frank and friendly glance that would have disarmed one less completely convinced of her badness; and her smile never failed the king when he looked for it.  She bore his jests with unfailing equanimity and gentleness, for she felt that she should not have to bear them long.  Even to Nehushta she gave an occasional glance as though of hurt sympathy—­a look that seemed to say to the world that she regretted the Hebrew queen’s sullen temper and moody ways, so different from her own, but regarded them all the while as the outward manifestation of some sickness, for which she was to be pitied rather than blamed.

But, as the time sped, her heart grew more and more glad, for the end was at hand, and there was a smell of death in the air of the sweet rose-valley.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Once more the spring months had come, and the fields grew green and the trees put forth their leaves.  Four years had passed since Daniel had died in Ecbatana, leaving his legacy of wisdom to Zoroaster; and almost a year had gone by since Zoroaster had returned to the court at Stakhar.  The time had sped very swiftly, except for Nehushta, whose life was heavy with a great weariness and her eyes hollow with suffering