blet in his hand, in case the king's thirst were not
assuaged by a single draught.

"Thou art fair, daughter of Jerusalem," said the king presently. "I
remember thy beauty, for I saw thee in Ecbatana. I sent for thee and thy
kinsfolk that I might do thee honour; and I will also fulfil my words. I
will take thee to be my wife."

Darius spoke quietly, in his usual tone of absolute determination. But
if the concentrated fury of a thousand storms had suddenly broken loose
in the very midst of the tent, the effect could not have been more
terrible on his hearers.

Nehushta's face flushed suddenly, and for a moment she trembled in every
joint; then she fell on her knees, prostrate before the king's feet, all
the wealth of her splendid hair falling loose about her. Darius sat
still, as though watching the result of his speech. He might have sat
long, but in an instant, Zoroaster sprang between the king and the
kneeling woman; and the golden goblet he had held rolled across the
thick carpet on the ground, while the rich red wine ran in a slow stream
towards the curtains of the door. His face was livid and his eyes like
coals of blue fire, his fair locks and his long golden beard caught the
torchlight and shone about him like a glory, as he stood up to his grand
height and faced the king. Darius never quailed nor moved; his look met
Zoroaster's with fearless boldness. Zoroaster spoke first, in low
accents of concentrated fury:

"Nehushta the princess is my betrothed bride. Though thou wert king of
the stars as well as king of the earth, thou shalt not have her for thy
wife."

Darius smiled, not scornfully, an honest smile of amusement, as he
stared at the wrathful figure of the northern man before him.

"I am the king of kings," he answered. "I will marry this princess of
Judah to-morrow, and thee I will crucify upon the highest turret of
Shushan, because thou speakest lies when thou sayest I shall not marry
her."

"Fool! tempt not thy God! Threaten not him who is stronger than thou,
lest he slay thee with his hands where thou sittest." Zoroaster's voice
sounded low and distinct as the knell of relentless fate, and his hand
went out towards the king's throat.

Until this moment, Darius had sat in his indifferent attitude, smiling
carelessly, though never taking his eye from his adversary. Brave as the
bravest, he scorned to move until he was attacked, and he would have
despised the thought of calling to his guards. But