The figure of the crouching Scyth bounded forward, and his bright sword, keen as a razor, flashed in the air.

"I have him!" Chares cried exultingly. His long blade hissed downward as he spoke, and the ugly round head rolled in the dirt. The stroke was followed by a roar of rage from the Scyths, among whom the man had evidently been a leader of importance.

"Come on!" the Theban called to them, tauntingly. "Cowards, why do you wait?"

The challenge seemed to goad them to desperation. They came with a rush in which they threw aside all caution. The remnant of the little troop was hurled violently backward. Chares' sword rose and fell without a pause; Nathan and the men who remained to him cut and thrust at the faces of their foes; and even Clearchus, roused by the instinct of self-preservation, plied his javelin. The end had come, and nothing remained but to die bravely.

It seemed to Clearchus that they would be able to hold out for only a moment longer, when without apparent, reason the attack suddenly slackened. The Scyths drew back, leaving a circle of dead and wounded under the wall. The mass of humanity that blocked the street swayed and gave way with a roar of warning and of fear. The mob was all in motion. It seemed to be fleeing before some danger, the nature of which the objects of its attack were unable to guess. It rushed past the angle in the wall where Nathan and his prisoners had taken refuge, carrying the struggling Scyths along with it.

"What is happening?" Clearchus gasped.

Nathan was too nearly exhausted to reply. He shook his head as a sign that he did not know, but the answer was not long delayed.

The beat of trampling hoofs and the thunder of rolling wheels was mingled with the roar of panic, and in an instant the street was filled from side to side with close ranks of wild-looking horsemen.

"Way for Bessus! Make way for the noble viceroy!" they shouted, striking right and left with their rawhide whips.

They rode into the mob with reckless indifference, and all who were unfortunate enough to be unable to get out of their way were trampled under the hoofs of the galloping horses.

"They are the Bactrians," Nathan panted. "We are saved."

From their sheltering angle, the Greeks watched the horsemen go past.

Every man seemed an athlete, and the riders sat upon the backs of their horses as though they had grown there. Behind them, after a brief interval, rumbled a heavy war chariot drawn by four black steeds. In this ponderous vehicle, beside the charioteer, stood a corpulent man, with an enormously thick neck and a heavy jaw that gave an aspect of sternness to his dark face. He paid no heed to the lifeless forms over which the wheels of his chariot rolled, and he seemed deaf to the cries of pain uttered by the wretches who had been maimed beneath the hoofs of his guard. Clearchus' eyes for a moment met those of the viceroy and he felt a chill strike through him, as though he had touched some monstrous reptile unawares.

The passage of the Bactrians effectually cleared the street, but Nathan deemed it wise to fall in behind them lest the attack should be renewed. As they were about to start, a thought occurred to Chares.

"Where is the lieutenant?" he asked.

"He is there," Nathan replied, pointing to a heap of the slain.

The body of the young man lay a little apart from the rest, with the paint still on its cheeks and a gaping wound in its chest.

"So his cowardice did not save him," Chares said. "Let us go."

"Come, then," Nathan replied, and behind the chariot of Bessus, they arrived at the gates which gave entrance to the enclosure in which stood the royal palace.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE GREAT KING IS ANGRY

At the approach of Bessus the great bronze gates in the palace wall swung wide, and he rode through them, followed by his Bactrians.

Nathan halted at the entrance, which he found in charge of a guard of his own race. The gray-haired captain in command rushed forward with a cry of joy.

"Where hast thou been?" he cried, embracing Nathan as he dismounted.

"Art thou sound and whole?"

"Nearly so," Nathan replied, showing the cut on his thigh, which fortunately was not deep and had ceased to bleed. "How is it with Israel?"

They walked apart, talking in low tones. The Arabs and the two prisoners threw themselves on the turf inside the gate and waited.

Through the swaying branches of the trees they could catch glimpses of the massive walls of many buildings standing in stately magnificence amid the verdure. At a distance, above roof and tree-top, rose the famous Hanging Gardens of the Great King, built in terraces, gay with wonderful flowers and strange plants brought from the ends of the world. Crystal streams flashed in waterfalls from the summit, following winding artificial channels, beside which stood statues of marble.

The two Greeks noticed that Nathan and the captain glanced at them from time to time as they talked, and they felt that they were the subjects of the conference. Finally Nathan came toward them, bringing the captain with him.

"This is Ezra," he said. "He knows what I know. Obey him in all things. When the time comes, I shall be near; but now I must leave you."

He offered his hand and the two Greeks shook it warmly. Then with a word to his Arabs, who followed him with their horses, he led the way down a side path and vanished in the thickets.

"Where is he going?" Clearchus asked.

"To the barracks," Ezra replied. "Darius keeps a guard here of ten thousand men, who are known as the Immortals, because their ranks are always full."

"The palace is almost a city," Clearchus said, looking about him with curiosity. "We have many cities at home that are smaller."

"It has need to be," Ezra replied. "The Great King usually has fifteen thousand guests at his table, and the number now is greater because he is preparing for war."

"Will he really take the field, then?" Chares asked.

"He is mustering his army," the captain answered, "and he will lead it to battle. The result is in the hands of God."

"I could tell thee, Jew, what the result will be," Chares said dryly.

"By Dionysus, what a place to plunder! Where are you going to take us?"

"I shall deliver you to Boupares, governor of the palace, who has charge of the prisoners and of the hostages," Ezra said. "So long as you make no attempt to escape, you will have a considerable amount of freedom. There are some of our people among the guards, and one especially named Joel, who will tell you of what is being done. Of yourselves you can accomplish nothing; but we can do much. You are to leave everything to us. Joel you may trust, but it will be your part to wait in patience."

"When shall we be summoned before the king?" Clearchus asked.

"Perhaps to-morrow, perhaps a month from now, and possibly not at all,"

Ezra replied. "It is never known in advance what he will do."

So the two friends passed into their captivity in the palace of Darius.

As Ezra had said, their confinement did not prove a hardship to them.

They were placed with hundreds of others in a remote wing near the river wall. They had baths, a large court for games and exercise, and abundance of slaves to provide for their wants. The Israelites among their guards supplied them privately with the news of the court. The winter months passed pleasantly enough, considering their situation.

Clearchus, whose mind was filled with doubt concerning the fate of Artemisia, had his days of gloom and despair; but there was nothing to be done, and the light-hearted resignation of Chares saved him from utter despondency.

Of the numerous company held by Boupares to await the pleasure of the Great King, many knew not why they had been brought thither. Some of them had been there for years. Others received the royal summons on the morrow of their arrival and did not return. There were princes from the distant East, who had been suspected of a desire to throw off the Persian yoke; there were adventurers from Athens, merchants from Sicily, dusky chieftains from the sources of the Nile--a strange mixture of tongues and races, in, which every part of the huge, unwieldy empire was represented.

"I feel as though we were in the cave of Polyphemus," Clearchus said.

"Who can tell whose turn will come next?"

"At any rate, the king is not a Cyclops--he cannot eat us," Chares replied. "Here comes Joel; now we shall get the latest news."

The young man approached them with the affectation of carelessness that it was necessary to assume to disarm suspicion. The palace swarmed with the Eyes and Ears of the king, spies and informers whose identity was unknown even to the most trusted of the courtiers. He must be cunning indeed who could frame and bring to fruition a plot that could escape their observation. A word from one of them, even though founded upon suspicion, often brought death.

"Well?" Chares said, when Joel reached at last the spot where they were standing, out of hearing of the others. "Repeat for us the murmurs of this whispering gallery."