n the
subject.

"I daresay it is the same. Zoroaster always says so, and that was the
one point that Daniel could never forgive him. The sun is coming through
those plants upon your head--shall we not have our cushions moved into
the shade at the other end?" She clapped her hands and rose languidly,
offering her hand to Atossa. But the queen sprang lightly to her feet.

"I have stayed too long," she said. "Come with me, dearest princess, and
we will go out into the orange gardens upon the upper terrace. Perhaps,"
she added, adjusting the folds of her mantle, "we shall find Zoroaster
there, or some of the princes, or even the Great King himself. Or,
perhaps, it would amuse you to see where I live?"

Nehushta received her mantle from her slaves, and one of them brought
her a linen tiara in place of the gauze veil she had twisted about her
hair. But Atossa would not permit the change.

"It is too beautiful!" she cried enthusiastically. "So new! you must
really not change it."

She put her arm around Nehushta affectionately and led her towards the
door of the inner staircase. Then suddenly she paused, as though
recollecting herself.

"No," she said, "I will show you the way I came. It is shorter and you
should know it. It may be of use to you."

So they left the balcony by the little door that was almost masked by
one of the great pillars, and descended the dark stairs. Nehushta
detested every sort of bodily inconvenience, and inwardly wished the
queen had not changed her mind, but had led her by an easier way.

"It is not far," said the queen, descending rapidly in front of her.

"It is dreadfully steep," objected Nehushta, "and I can hardly see my
way at all. How many steps are there?"

"Only a score more," answered the queen's voice, farther down. She
seemed to be hurrying, but Nehushta had no intention of going any
faster, and carefully groped her way. As she began to see a glimmer of
light at the last turn of the winding stair, she heard loud voices in
the corridor below. With the cautious instinct of her race, she paused
and listened. The hard, quick tones of an angry man dominated the rest.

CHAPTER VIII.

Zoroaster had sat for nearly an hour, his eyes fixed on the blue sky,
his thoughts wandering in contemplation of things greater and higher
than those of earth, when he was roused by the measured tread of armed
men marching in a distant room. In an instant he stood up, his helmet on
his head,-