Croesus ventured to plead for the innocent boy.  “Calm yourself, old friend,” said Cambyses with a smile; “the child is not dead yet, and perhaps will be as well off with us as your own son, who fought so well at Pelusium.  I confess I should like to know, whether Psamtik bears his fate as calmly and bravely as you did twenty-five years ago.”

“That we can easily discover, by putting him on trial,” said Phanes.  “Let him be brought into the palace-court to-morrow, and let the captives and the condemned be led past him.  Then we shall see whether he is a man or a coward.”

“Be it so,” answered Cambyses.  “I will conceal myself and watch him unobserved.  You, Phanes, will accompany me, to tell me the name and rank of each of the captives.”

The next morning Phanes accompanied the king on to a balcony which ran round the great court of the palace—­the court we have already described as being planted with trees.  The listeners were hidden by a grove of flowering shrubs, but they could see every movement that took place, and hear every word that was spoken beneath them.  They saw Psamtik, surrounded by a few of his former companions.  He was leaning against a palm-tree, his eyes fixed gloomily on the ground, as his daughters entered the court.  The daughter of Neithotep was with them, and some more young girls, all dressed as slaves; they were carrying pitchers of water.  At sight of the king, they uttered such a loud cry of anguish as to wake him from his reverie.  He looked up, recognized the miserable girls, and bowed his head lower than before; but only for a moment.  Drawing himself up quickly, he asked his eldest daughter for whom she was carrying water.  On hearing that she was forced to do the work of a slave for Phanes, he turned deadly pale, nodded his head, and cried to the girls, “Go on.”

A few minutes later the captives were led into the court, with ropes round their necks, and bridles in their mouths.

[This statement of Herodotus (III. 14.) is confirmed by the monuments, on which we often see representations of captives being led along with ropes round their necks.  What follows is taken entirely from the same passage in Herodotus.]

At the head of the train was the little prince Necho.  He stretched his hands out to his father, begging him to punish the bad foreigners who wanted to kill him.  At this sight the Egyptians wept in their exceeding great misery; but Psamtik’s eyes were dry.  He bowed his tearless face nearly to the earth, and waved his child a last farewell.

After a short interval, the captives taken in Sais entered.  Among them was Neithotep, the once powerful high-priest, clothed in rags and moving with difficulty by the help of a staff.  At the entrance-gate he raised his eyes and caught sight of his former pupil Darius.  Reckless of all the spectators around him, he went straight up to the young man, poured out the story of his need, besought his help, and ended by begging an alms.  Darius complied at once, and by so doing, induced others of the Achaemenidae, who were standing by, to hail the old man jokingly and throw him little pieces of money, which he picked up laboriously and thankfully from the ground.