The king went off into another violent fit of passion at this news, and threatened the officer of police, who prudently concealed the excitement of the crowd from his lord, with a severe punishment, if Boges were not in their hands by the next morning.

As he finished speaking, a eunuch was brought into the hall, sent by the king’s mother to ask an interview for herself with her son.

Cambyses prepared at once to comply with his mother’s wish, at the same time giving Phanes his hand to kiss, a rare honor, only shown to those that ate at the king’s table, and saying:  “All the prisoners are to be set at liberty.  Go to your sons, you anxious, troubled fathers, and assure them of my mercy and favor.  I think we shall be able to find a satrapy a-piece for them, as compensation for to-night’s undeserved imprisonment.  To you, my Greek friend, I am deeply indebted.  In discharge of this debt, and as a means of retaining you at my court, I beg you to accept one hundred talents from my treasury.”

“I shall scarcely be able to use so large a sum,” said Phanes, bowing low.

“Then abuse it,” said the king with a friendly smile, and calling out to him, “We shall meet again at supper,” he left the hall accompanied by his court.

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In the meantime there had been sadness and mourning in the apartments of the queen-mother.  Judging from the contents of the letter to Bartja, Kassandane had made up her mind that Nitetis was faithless, and her own beloved son innocent.  But in whom could she ever place confidence again, now that this girl, whom she had looked upon as the very embodiment of every womanly virtue, had proved reprobate and faithless—­now that the noblest youths in the realm had proved perjurers?

Nitetis was more than dead for her; Bartja, Croesus, Darius, Gyges, Araspes, all so closely allied to her by relationship and friendship, as good as dead.  And yet she durst not indulge her sorrow; she had to restrain the despairing outbursts of grief of her impetuous child.

Atossa behaved like one deprived of her senses when she heard of the sentences of death.  The self-control which she had learnt from Nitetis gave way, and her old impetuosity burst forth again with double vehemence.

Nitetis, her only friend,—­Bartja, the brother whom she loved with her whole heart,—­Darius, whom she felt now she not only looked up to as her deliverer, but loved with all the warmth of a first affection—­Croesus to whom she clung like a father,—­she was to lose every one she loved in one day.

She tore her dress and her hair, called Cambyses a monster, and every one who could possibly believe in the guilt of such people, infatuated or insane.  Then her tears would burst out afresh, she would utter imploring supplications to the gods for mercy, and a few minutes later, begin conjuring her mother to take her to the hanging-gardens, that they might hear Nitetis’ defence of her own conduct.