usual
habit Zoroaster had not permitted the tent-pitchers and other slaves to
pass on while he and his charges made their noonday halt; for he feared
some uprising in the neighbourhood of the city in the absence of the
king, and he wished to keep his whole company together as a measure of
safety, even at the sacrifice of Nehushta's convenience.

She herself still stood apart, and haughtily turned away from her
serving-women, giving them no answer when they saluted her and offered
her cushions and cooling drinks. She drew her cloak more closely about
her and tightened her veil upon her face. She was weary, disappointed,
almost angry. For days she had dreamed of the reception she would have
at the palace, of the king and of the court; of the luxury of rest after
her long journey, and of the thousand diversions and excitements she
would find in revisiting the scenes of her childhood. It was no small
disappointment to find herself condemned to another night in camp; and
her first impulse was to blame Zoroaster.

In spite of her love for him, her strong and dominating temper often
chafed at his calmness, and resented the resolute superiority of his
intelligence; and then, being conscious that her own dignity suffered by
the storms of her temper, she was even more angry than before, with
herself, with him, with every one. But Zoroaster was as impassive as
marble, saving that now and then his brow flushed, and paled quickly;
and his words, if he spoke at all, had a chilled icy ring in them.
Sooner or later, Nehushta's passionate temper cooled, and she found him
the same as ever, devoted and gentle and loving; then her heart went out
to him anew, and all her being was filled with the love of him, even to
overflowing.

She had been disappointed now, and would speak to no one. She moved
still farther from the crowd of slaves and tent-pitchers, followed at a
respectful distance by her handmaidens, who whispered together as they
went; and again she stood still and looked westward.

As the sun neared the horizon, his low rays caught upon a raising cloud
of dust, small and distant as the smoke of a fire, in the plain towards
Babylon, but whirling quickly upwards. Nehushta's eye rested on the
far-off point, and she raised one hand to shade her sight. She
remembered how, when she was a girl, she had watched the line of that
very road from the palace above, and had seen a cloud of dust arise out
of a mere speck, as a body of horseme