“Rise,” he said, “go your way, and remember me.”

Relieved from the force of the subtle influence he projected, Atossa sprang to her feet and staggered back a few paces, till she fell upon the couch.

“What manner of man art thou?” she said, staring wildly before her, as though recovering from some heavy blow that had stunned her.

But she saw Zoroaster’s white robes disappear through the door, even while the words were on her lips, and she sank back in stupefaction upon the cushions of the couch.

Meanwhile the trumpets sounded in the courts of the palace and the guards were marshalled out at the king’s command.  Messengers mounted and rode furiously up the valley to the fortress, to warn the troops there to make ready for the march; and before the sun reached the meridian, Darius was on horseback, in his armour, at the foot of the great staircase.  The blazing noonday light shone upon his polished helmet and on the golden wings that stood out on either side of it, and the hot rays were sent flashing back from his gilded harness, and from the broad scales of his horse’s armour.

The slaves of the palace stood in long ranks before the columns of the portico and upon the broad stairs on each side, and Zoroaster stood on the lowest step, attended by a score of his priests, to receive the king’s last instructions.

“I go forth, and in two months I will return in triumph,” said Darius.  “Meanwhile keep thou the government in thy hand, and let not the laws be relaxed because the king is not here.  Let the sacrifice be performed daily in the temple, and let all things proceed as though I myself were present.  I will not that petty strifes arise because I am away.  There shall be peace—­peace—­peace forever throughout my kingdom, though I shed much blood to obtain it.  And all the people who are evildoers and makers of strife and sedition shall tremble at the name of Darius, the king of kings, and of Zoroaster, the high priest of the All-Wise.  In peace I leave you, to cause peace whither I go; and in peace I will come again to you.  Farewell, Zoroaster, truest friend and wisest counsellor; in thy keeping I leave all things.  Take thou the signet and bear it wisely till I come.”

Zoroaster received the royal ring and bowed a low obeisance.  Then Darius pressed his knees to his horse’s sides and the noble steed sprang forward upon the straight, broad road, like an arrow from a bow.  The mounted guards grasped their spears and gathered their bridles in their hands and followed swiftly, four and four, shoulder to shoulder, and knee to knee, their bronze cuirasses and polished helmets blazing in the noonday sun and dashing as they galloped on; and in a moment there was nothing seen of the royal guard but a tossing wave of light far up the valley; and the white dust, that had risen, as they plunged forward, settled slowly in the still, hot air upon the roses and shrubs that hung over the enclosure of the garden at the foot of the broad staircase.