red the palace.

Atossa and Nehushta had watched the departure of the king from their
upper windows, at the opposite ends of the building, from behind the
gilded lattices. Atossa had recovered somewhat from the astonishment and
fear that had taken possession of her when she had found herself under
Zoroaster's strange influence, and as she saw Darius ride away, while
Zoroaster remained standing upon the steps, her courage rose. She
resolved that nothing should induce her again to expose herself to the
chief priest's unearthly power, and she laughed to herself as she
thought that she might yet destroy him, and free herself from him for
ever. She wondered how she could ever have given a thought of love to
such a man, and she summoned her black slave, and sent him upon his last
errand, by which he was to obtain his freedom.

But Nehushta gazed sadly after the galloping guards, and her eye strove
to distinguish the king's crest before the others, till all was mingled
in the distance, in an indiscriminate reflection of moving light, and
then lost to view altogether in the rising dust. Whether she loved him
truly, or loved him not, he had been true and kind to her, and had
rested his dark head upon her shoulder that very morning before he went,
and had told her that, of all living women, he loved her best. But she
had felt a quick sting of pain in her heart, because she knew that she
would give her life to lie for one short hour on Zoroaster's breast and
sob out all her sorrow and die.

CHAPTER XIX.

Four days after the king's departure, Nehushta was wandering in the
gardens as the sun was going down, according to her daily custom. There
was a place she loved well--a spot where the path widened to a circle,
round which the roses grew, thick and fragrant with the breath of the
coming summer, and soft green shrubs and climbing things that twisted
their tender arms about the myrtle trees. The hedge was so high that it
cut off all view of the gardens beyond, and only the black north-western
hills could just be seen above the mass of shrubbery; beyond the
mountains and all over the sky, the glow of the setting sun spread like
a rosy veil; and the light tinged the crests of the dark hills and
turned the myrtle leaves to a strange colour, and gilded the highest
roses to a deep red gold.

The birds were all singing their evening song in loud, happy chorus, as
only Eastern birds can sing; the air was warm and still, and th