Nehushta paused, breathless with running.  As she realised the quiet that reigned in the palace, where the slaves went about their duties as though nothing had occurred, or were likely to occur, it seemed to her as though she must have been dreaming.  It was impossible that if there were any real danger, it should not have become known at least to some one of the hundreds of slaves who thronged the outer halls and corridors.  Moreover there were numerous scribes and officers connected with the government; some few nobles whom Darius had left behind when he went to Shushan; there were their wives and families residing in various parts, of the palace and in the buildings below it, and there was a strong detachment of Persian guards.  If there were danger, some one must have known it.

She did not know that at that moment the inhabitants of the lower palace were already alarmed, while some were flying, leaving everything behind, in their haste to reach the fortress higher up the valley.  Everything seemed quiet where she was, and she determined to go alone in search of Zoroaster, without raising any alarm.  Just as she entered the doorway of the great hall, she heard the cry again echoing behind her through the valley.  It was as much as she could do to control the terror that again took hold of her at the dreaded sound, as she passed the files of bowing slaves, and went in between the two tall spearmen who guarded the inner entrance, and grounded their spears with military precision as she went by.

She had one slave whom she trusted more than the rest.  It was the little Syrian maid, who was half a Hebrew.

“Go,” she said quickly, in her own tongue.  “Go in one direction and I will go in another, and search out Zoroaster, the high priest, and bring him to my chamber.  I also will search, but if I find him not, I will wait for thee there.”

The dark girl turned and ran through the halls, swift as a startled fawn, to fulfil her errand, and Nehushta went another way upon her search.  She was ashamed to ask for Zoroaster.  The words of her enemy were still ringing in her ears—­“alone with your lover;” it might be the common talk of the court for all she knew.  She went silently on her way.  She knew where Zoroaster dwelt.  The curtain of his simple chamber was thrown aside and a faint light burned in the room.  It was empty; a scroll lay open upon the floor beside a purple cushion, as he had left it, and his long white mantle lay tossed upon the couch which served him for a bed.

She gazed lovingly for one moment into the open chamber, and then went on through the broad corridor, dimly lighted everywhere with small oil lamps.  She looked into the council chamber and it was deserted.  The long rows of double seats were empty, and gleamed faintly in the light.  High upon the dais at the end, a lamp burned above the carved chair of ivory and gold, whereon the king sat when the council was assembled.  There was no one there.  Farther