Night had come on.

The sorely-tried man could not sleep; he turned restlessly from side to side.  The fearful thought, that his refusal to do the king’s will would be the ruin of his wife and children, stood before his wakeful eyes in the most vivid colors.  The strength to keep his good resolution forsook him, and even Croesus’ words, which, when he first heard them had given his nobler feelings the victory, now came in as a power on the other side.  “A monarch can always find unprincipled servants.”  Yes, the words were an affront, but at the same time a reminder, that though he might defy the king’s command a hundred others would be ready to obey it.  No sooner had this thought become clear to him, than he started up, examined a number of daggers which hung, carefully arranged, above his bed, and laid the sharpest on the little table before him.

He then began to pace the room in deep thought, often going to the opening which served as a window, to cool his burning forehead and see if dawn were near.

When at last daylight appeared, he heard the sounding brass calling the boys to early prayer.  That reminded him of his sons and he examined the dagger a second time.  A troop of gaily-dressed courtiers rode by on their way to the king.  He put the dagger in his girdle; and at last, on hearing the merry laughter of his youngest child sound from the women’s apartments, he set the tiara hastily on his head, left the house without taking leave of his wife, and, accompanied by a number of slaves, went down to the Nile.  There he threw himself into a boat and ordered the rowers to take him to Sais.

.........................

A few hours after the fatal shooting-match, Bartja had followed Croesus’ advice and had gone off to Sais with his young wife.  They found Rhodopis there.  She had yielded to an irresistible impulse and, instead of returning to Naukratis, had stopped at Sais.  Bartja’s fall on stepping ashore had disturbed her, and she had with her own eyes seen an owl fly from the left side close by his head.  These evil omens, to a heart which had by no means outgrown the superstitions of the age, added to a confused succession of distressing dreams which had disturbed her slumbers, and her usual wish to be always near Bartja and Sappho, led her to decide quickly on waiting for her granddaughter at Sais.

Bartja and Sappho were delighted to find such a welcome guest, and after she had dandled and played with her great grandchild, the little Parmys, to her heart’s content, they led her to the rooms which had been prepared for her.

   [Herodotus states, that beside Atossa, &c..  Darius took a daughter
   of the deceased Bartja, named Parmys, to be his wife.  Herod.  III.
   88.  She is also mentioned VII. 78.]