A dull murmur in the affirmative, interrupted by some violent voices in the negative, was the answer. The king then asked a second question: “Shall we accept the conditions proposed by their envoys, and grant peace to this nation, already so scourged and desolated by the gods?” To this they all agreed eagerly.
“That is what I wished to know,” continued Cambyses. “To-morrow, when we are sober, we will follow the old custom and reconsider what has been resolved on during our intoxication. Drink on, all of you, as long as the night lasts. To-morrow, at the last crow of the sacred bird Parodar, I shall expect you to meet me for the chase, at the gate of the temple of Bel.”
So saying, the king left the hall, followed by a thundering “Victory to the king!” Boges had slipped out quietly before him. In the forecourt he found one of the gardener’s boys from the hanging-gardens.
“What do you want here?” asked Boges. “I have something for the prince Bartja.”
“For Bartja? Has he asked your master to send him some seeds or slips?”
The boy shook his sunburnt head and smiled roguishly.
“Some one else sent you then?” said Boges becoming more attentive.
“Yes, some one else.”
“Ah! the Egyptian has sent a message to her brother-in-law?”
“Who told you that?”
“Nitetis spoke to me about it. Here, give me what you have; I will give it to Bartja at once.”
“I was not to give it to any one but the prince himself.”
“Give it to me; it will be safer in my hands than in yours.”
“I dare not.”
“Obey me at once, or—”
At this moment the king came up. Boges thought a moment, and then called in a loud voice to the whip-bearers on duty at the palace-gate, to take the astonished boy up.
“What is the matter here?” asked Cambyses.
“This fellow,” answered the eunuch, “has had the audacity to make his way into the palace with a message from your consort Nitetis to Bartja.”
At sight of the king, the boy had fallen on his knees, touching the ground with his forehead.
Cambyses looked at him and turned deadly pale. Then, turning to the eunuch, he asked: “What does the Egyptian Princess wish from my brother?”
“The boy declares that he has orders to give up what has been entrusted to him to no one but Bartja.” On hearing this the boy looked imploringly up at the king, and held out a little papyrus roll.
Cambyses snatched it out of his hand, but the next moment stamped furiously on the ground at seeing that the letter was written in Greek, which he could not read.
He collected himself, however, and, with an awful look, asked the boy who had given him the letter. “The Egyptian lady’s waiting-woman Mandane,” he answered; “the Magian’s daughter.”
“For my brother Bartja?”
“She said I was to give the letter to the handsome prince, before the banquet, with a greeting from her mistress Nitetis, and I was to tell him . . .”