"It is in fact a gallery in which every whisper is heard," the Hebrew said, smiling. "But there is great news to-day; Pharnaces has been condemned to death, and all his family must die with him."

"What has he done?" Clearchus asked. "Is he not one of the most powerful of the nobles and a favorite with the king?"

"Yes," Joel replied, "and why the sentence was passed no one knows excepting the king himself."

"But will he have no trial?" Clearchus persisted. "Will they not tell him what charge is laid against him?"

Joel shrugged his shoulders. "The sentence has been passed," he said, "and not even the Great King, who made it, can change it now. We have been trying to discover what the accusation was. Pharnaces wanted to be viceroy of Bactria, and he had been gathering evidence with which to destroy Bessus. It must be that Bessus managed to reach the king first; but what means he had of accomplishing this, we do not know.

Perhaps he bribed one of the king's Eyes. It must have cost him something, but Bessus could do it if any one. If he did not work through the spies, he may have persuaded the Magi to discover some treason in the stars and then to accuse Pharnaces. Bessus is on good terms with the Medean priests, for he lets them do what they like in his province."

"This Bessus must be a dangerous man," Clearchus said.

"Only because he has force and daring," Joel replied. "He does what every other man would like to do. There is not a satrap or viceroy in the empire who does not desire his neighbor's ruin. It has been worse since these fire-worshipping priests began to get back into favor again. Our wise men say that it was an evil day for the kings of this land when they allowed these men to wean their minds from Ormazd and set up their idols in Babylon. But now there is no God too false to obtain worship here. Even Baal and Astarte have their temples, and they are beginning to bring in the Egyptian brood of deities. The cup is filling fast, and they must drink it when Jehovah wills."

The young man's voice sank to a tone of awe as he pronounced the dreadful name, and he glanced about him as though he half expected a thunderbolt to fall. It did not escape the Athenian perception of Clearchus that the Jew seemed to regard the terrible presence as real and actual. His earnestness formed a striking contrast with his usual affectation of the easy and cynical manner of the court.

"We laugh and jest here in the palace," he went on, "but each man's hand is against his neighbor. Faith and honor are lost. Servants betray their masters and sons lead their parents to death. What knows the Great King of all this? He lives behind a screen, where thieves and rascals make him their tool. These plotters play upon him as they do upon Sisygambis, the queen mother, who has almost as much power as her son; or upon Statira, his queen, the most beautiful of women. The gynaeceum is a nest of intrigues. His stewards and keepers and cup-bearers have each their price, and they do not scruple to take it.

A whisper or a look may send a man to his death. Give me a chance with a sword in my hand and let me see the man who strikes me! I hate this treacherous game in the dark!"

"Well spoken, my lad!" Chares said. "But what about this queen, Statira--is she so very beautiful?"

"They say she is the fairest woman in the world," Joel answered, "and that the Great King is the handsomest of men. I have never seen her, or I would not be here now. It is death to look upon the face of one of the king's women, even by accident."

"They seem to be very particular!" Chares grumbled.

"I dare say they have their reasons," Joel said. "But I have not told you all the news. The king has had a dream, and he believes that the Gods have promised him the victory over Alexander. The Chaldeans have told him so."

"What was the dream?" Clearchus asked uneasily.

"It was proclaimed this morning," Joel said. "Darius dreamed that when he had come within sight of the Macedonians, their army suddenly burst into flame and all the troops were consumed, so that nothing but their ashes remained where they had been. And then he thought he saw Alexander, dressed like one of the lords of the household, standing ready to serve him. But when he went into the Temple of Baal, Alexander vanished utterly and was seen no more. From this the learned men of the Chaldeans say that Baal will give the battle to Darius and will remove Alexander from his way. So the king has ordered sacrifices to Baal and has promised him a great temple of stone after the victory."

Clearchus looked troubled, and even Chares shook his head.

"Wait," Joel went on eagerly, noticing their concern. "I have told you the interpretation of the Chaldeans. Our wise men have also considered the dream, and they read it differently. They say that the army on fire means that the Macedonians shall win great glory, and that the appearance of Alexander as a lord of the household, in the same dress that Darius wore before he became king, signifies that he will gain victories, as Darius did. This is the interpretation of the priests of our race, to whom are revealed the things that are to be."

"I know not which is right," Clearchus said, "but I wish Aristander was here."

"Nathan bade me tell you to have no fear," Joel said confidently. "He also wished me to tell you that Phradates the Tyrian has come to court."

"Phradates here!" Chares exclaimed. "Why did you not say so before?

There will be trouble for us."

"Nathan talked with the Phnician and learned much," Joel continued.

"Halicarnassus has fallen and Memnon is dead. Phradates is seeking command of the fleet for Azemilcus, the Tyrian king."

"Did Nathan say nothing of Artemisia and Thais?" Clearchus inquired, in a trembling voice.

"Oh, yes," said Joel, "I had forgotten. He told me to say that Phradates had carried them by force to Tyre in his galley after the fall of Halicarnassus and that he is in love with Thais. This he learned from one of our people who was with the Tyrian; and he learned further that as yet no harm has befallen the young women."

"We must go!" Clearchus exclaimed. "Tell Nathan so at once. Tell him that if he cannot release us, we will release ourselves. We must be on our way to Tyre to-morrow."

"Quietly," Chares said, placing his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Not so loud. You forget!"

"Did you not hear what he said?" Clearchus demanded impatiently.

"Artemisia is in Tyre and in the power of Phradates!"

"So is Thais, and she is in the greater danger," Chares said, "if what Joel tells us is true; but we shall never see either of them again unless we are discreet."

There was a stir in the great hall of the building as the inmates gathered from the various smaller apartments. "The king has sent a summons!" Joel said, hastening away.

"Do not forget my message," Clearchus insisted.

"I will deliver it," Joel responded over his shoulder.

Chares and Clearchus joined the main body of prisoners, who were assembled in the hall. They found there Boupares himself, with scribes bearing the register of the inmates of the place. The governor scrutinized the lists with care, selecting from among them the names of prisoners, who were called by a crier. Each man, as he heard his name, stepped forward to await the directions of Boupares.

"Amyntas of Macedon!" shouted the crier, and a small, thin man with a sallow face stood out from the rest.

"Charidemus of Corinth!" the crier called.

"They are asking only for the Greeks," remarked a tall Assyrian.

"Maybe our turn has come," Clearchus said.

"Clearchus of Athens!" the crier shouted. "Chares of Thebes!"

The two young men advanced and joined the waiting group.

"That is all," Boupares said, handing the lists to the scribes.

"Follow me to the audience chamber."

Through the long, pillared courts and vast halls of the palace he conducted the prisoners. On every side were evidences of the expenditure of limitless wealth and measureless labor. Row after row of polished columns sprang a hundred feet to the echoing roof. Great sculptures adorned the walls. The floors were inlaid with mosaics of variegated pattern. Thousands of attendants came and went among the crowds of courtiers.

At last they arrived at the audience chamber and were admitted. Here the talk and laughter ceased and voices sank to a whisper. They were in the presence of the Great King, the most powerful and absolute of all monarchs. The walls of the lofty apartment were covered with plates of gold for half their height, and above these were paintings in which the king was depicted slaying lions in hand-to-hand combat, or driving his enemies before him in his war chariot. Between the pillars hung rich curtains of crimson, green, and violet, and the floor was hidden beneath silken carpets.

At the end of the room, under a purple canopy, stood a throne of gold and ivory, inlaid with precious stones. The perfume of myrrh and frankincense filled the air.

Standing before the throne, from which he had just arisen, the Greeks beheld Darius, the last of the Archaemenian kings. His tall, well-built figure was clad in a long Medean robe of rich silk, purple, embroidered with gold, and confined at the waist by a broad girdle of gold, from which hung his dagger in its sheath of lapis lazuli. His feet were shod in yellow shoes with long points. On his head he wore the citaris, which he alone might wear, with the royal diadem of blue and white. Jewels flashed in his ears, and about his neck hung a heavy collar of great rubies and pearls.

Never, Clearchus thought, had he seen a face more handsome and haughty than that of Darius, as he stood before his throne, with his blue eyes and light brown beard, carefully trimmed. He looked like what he was--the master of the world. His expression, although full of dignity, was slightly weary as he listened to the petition of a man who knelt before him, with bowed head, in the attitude of a suppliant.

With a scarcely perceptible movement of his hand, the king dismissed the petitioner, who rose to his feet and walked backward, with his head still bowed, to a group of officials who stood at one side of the apartment. Chares gripped Clearchus by the arm.

"It is Phradates!" he said.

It was indeed the Phnician, who had doubtless been pressing the suit of Azemilcus for command of the aegean fleet. His proud face was humbled, and drops of perspiration stood on his forehead. The king turned his eyes slowly to the Greeks and made a sign to Boupares to advance. The nobles who were ranged on either side of the throne, the king's fan and cup bearers, his generals and the master of his household, remained with stolid faces.

Boupares prostrated himself before the throne, kissing the floor.