the Median
woman entered the chamber.

"Where is he?" asked Nehushta, turning suddenly upon her.

The woman made a low obeisance and answered in trembling tones:

"They say that the high priest left the palace two hours ago, with the
queen Atossa. They say----"

"Thou liest!" cried Nehushta vehemently, and her face turned white, as
she stamped her foot upon the black marble pavement. The woman sprang
back with a cry of terror, and ran towards the door. She had never seen
her mistress so angry. But Nehushta called her back.

"Come hither--what else do they say?" she asked, controlling herself as
best she could.

"They say that the wild riders of the eastern desert are descending from
the hills," answered the slave hurriedly and almost under her breath.
"Every one is flying--everything is in confusion--I hear them even now,
hurrying to and fro in the courts, the soldiers----"

But, even as she spoke, an echo of distant voices and discordant cries
came through the curtains of the door from without, the rapid, uneven
tread of people running hither and thither in confusion, the loud voices
of startled men and the screams of frightened women--all blending
together in a wild roar that grew every moment louder.

Just then, the little Syrian maid came running in, almost tearing the
curtains from their brazen rods as she thrust the hangings aside. She
came and fell breathless at Nehushta's feet and clasped her knees.

"Fly, fly, beloved mistress," she cried, "the devils of the mountains
are upon us--they cover the hills--they are closing every entrance--the
people in the lower palace are all slain----"

"Where is Zoroaster?" In the moment of supreme danger, Nehushta grew
calm, and her senses were restored to her again.

"He is in the temple with the priests--by this time he is surely
slain--he could know of nothing that is going on--fly, fly!" cried the
poor Syrian girl in an agony of terror.

Nehushta laid her hand kindly upon the head of the little maid, and
turning in the pride of her courage, now that she knew the worst, she
spoke calmly to the other slaves who thronged in from the outer hall,
some breathless with fear, others screaming in an agony of acute dread.

"On which side are they coming?" she asked.

"Prom the hills, from the hills they are descending in thousands," cried
half a dozen of the frightened women at once, the rest huddled together
like sheep, moaning in their fear.

"Go you all to the f