any
woman! So tall and delicate and fair with all his strength! He never
knew why you left him--he thought it was to wear the king's purple, to
thrust a bit of gold in your hair! He must have suffered--you have
suffered too--such delicious torture, I have often soothed myself to
sleep with the thought of it. It is very sweet for me to see you lying
there with my wound in your heart. It will rankle long; you cannot get
it out--you are married to the king now, and Zoroaster has turned priest
for love of you. I think even the king would hardly love you if he could
see you now--you look so pale. I will send for the Chaldean
physician--you might die. I should be sorry if you died, you could not
suffer any more then. I could not give up the pleasure of hurting
you--you have no idea how delicious it is. Oh, how I hate you!"

Atossa rose suddenly to her feet, with flashing eyes. Nehushta, in sheer
horror of such hideous cruelty, had fallen back against the door-post,
and stood grasping the curtain with one hand while the other was pressed
to her heart, as though to control the desperate agony she suffered. Her
face was paler than the dead, and her long, black hair fell forward over
her ghastly cheeks.

"Shall I tell you more?" Atossa began again. "Should you like to hear
more of the truth? I could tell you how the king----"

But as she spoke, Nehushta threw up her hands and pressed them to her
throbbing temples; and with a low wail, she turned and fled through the
doorway between the thick curtains, that parted with her weight and fell
together again when she had passed.

"She will tell the king," said Atossa aloud, when she was gone. "I care
not--but I will keep the knife," she added, laying the keen blade upon
the table, amid the little instruments of her toilet.

But Nehushta ran fast through the corridors and halls till she came to
her slaves who had waited for her at the entrance to the queen's
apartment. Then she seemed to recollect herself, and slackened her pace,
and went on to her own chambers. But, her women saw her pale face, and
whispered together as they cautiously followed her.

She was wretched beyond all words. In a moment, her doubts and her fears
had all been realised, and the stain of unfaithfulness had been washed
from the memory of her lover. But it was too late to repent her
hastiness. She had been married to Darius now for nearly three years,
and Zoroaster was a man so changed that she would hardly