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Harvard College
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THE GIFT OF
Edgar Huidekoper Wells
Class of 1897
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RH E S A
A Romance of Babylon
BY
WALTER BLISS NEWGEON
THE RAYMOND PUBLISHING COMPANY
NEW HAVEN, CONN.


Alas 16.2.30
PARVARO COLLEGA
teeb 6, 1993 x
-LIBRARY
Edgar H. Welle
New York Citu
COPYRIGHT, 1922,
By R. E. NEWGEON
All Rights Reserved
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA


CONTENTS
CHAPTER
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93
I THE WINGED LIONS . . . . . . . . . .
II A NIGHT ON THE DESERT ....... 13
III THE GOLDEN CITY . . . . . . . . . . .
IV Heber's MIDNIGHT RIDE . . .
V HEBER'S DECISION . . . . .
VI A SOLDIER'S LOVE . . . . . . . .
VII The First Blow FOR ZION ..
VIII THE CONFLICT . . . . . . . .
IX MAN TO MAN . . . . . . . . . . .
X THE RESCUE . . . . . . .
XI The GREAT PROCESSION . . .
XII THE BLESSING OF THE GODS . . . .
XIII The INAUGURAL BANQUET .. .
XIV IN THE Queen's APARTMENTS ....
XV 'Twixt LOVE AND RELIGION . . . . . . .
XVI. Beneath THE EUPHRATES . . .
XVII AN OFFER OF LIFE. .......
XVIII A FRIEND IN NEED..
XIX Three WOMEN ...
XX FAREWELL TO HOME . .
XXI A REBEL IN PRISON . .. · · · · · · · ·
XXII HEBER'S QUEST · · · · · · · · · · · · 175
XXIII THE ARAB MERCHANT . . . . . . . . . . 183
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CONTENTS
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XXIV VULMARAN's Visit . . . . . . .
191
XXV ENEMY OR FRIEND . . . . . . . . . ..
XXVI ALAS FOR JUDAH! . . . . . ..
XXVII IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY . . . . .
XXVIII ON THE MARCH · · · · · · ·
XXIX VOICES IN THE WOODS...
XXX PRIEST AND BANKER .. .
XXXI The HANGING GARDENS . . . . . . . . .
XXXII A WORD OF WARNING .......... 252
XXXIII ORMA AND BELSHAZZAR . . .
XXXIV The BATTLE AT THE CAMP . . . . .
XXXV A DEFIANCE AND A PROPHECY ..
XXXVI THE MESSENGER . . . . . . .
XXXVII ORMA's Fellow PRISONER . . . . . . . . . 291
XXXVIII INTO THE DARK WATERS . . . . . . . . . 300
XXXIX TO THE FRONT . . . .
XL The Test OF ARMS ...
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XLI THE WORK OF A TRAITOR ..
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XLII BELSHAZZAR'S FEAST . . . . . . . . . . 342
XLIII THE MORNING AFTER .......... 351
XLIV JEHOVAH . . . . . . . . . . . .
XLV The DEATH OF NITOCRIS. .
XLVI RHESA . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
XLVII THE CAMP AT CARCHEMISH . . . . . . . .
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276
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RHESA
CHAPTER I
THE WINGED LIONS
That part of modern Arabia now known as the Syrian
desert is at the present day and has been through all ages
a desolate, dreary, sandy waste, dreaded alike by the Arab
and his faithful camel. The traveler who for the first time
finds himself in the midst of this desolation, experiences much
the same sensation as the landsman who, rising early upon
his first day out from port, takes a promenade on deck. As
the stranger on the ocean sees naught but water and sky with
possibly a distant sail to break the monotony of the scene,
so the traveler in the desert may look toward all the points
of the compass and see naught but sand—sand everywhere.
Could one stand upon a mountain top and look down upon
this waste, he would imagine it to be a perfectly flat plain,
but upon descending he would find that, like the prairies
of our own land, it lay in ascending ridges resembling the
long roll of the ocean upon a calm day. Occasional sand
hills serve to break the monotony of the otherwise oppressive
scene, but even they cannot be geographically located, since
each storm sweeps them from place to place. Toward the
north broken ranges of rocky hills mark the gradual evolu-
tion of the desert into a mountainous country, which continues
to rise until reaching its greatest height in the Armenian
mountains and the Caucasian range.
Little vegetation is found except in the occasional oases
where a solitary group of palm trees rises from amidst a scanty
ocean upon tony of the hically locatward the


RHESA
growth of underbrush to give welcome shade and rest to the
weary traveler. Of animal inhabitants it has few; an oc-
casional lion, a pack of jackals, or rarely a wild ass are the
only living beings to be met. The traveler may ride for miles
without meeting a sign of life, either animal or human, while
the fierce Arabian sun beats down upon his head with un-
relenting fury.
Toward the rising sun the desert, in former times, lost its
arid character until, east of the Euphrates, it became a fertile
plain, the seat of powerful empires. At the present day the
sand has crossed the great river and the plain, once noted for
its great productiveness, is hardly better than a desert. In
ancient times a strip of fertile land, varying from twenty to
thirty miles in width, intervened between the Euphrates and
the sandy region.
Had a traveler stood upon this desert near its northern bor-
der late in the afternoon of a torrid June day, B. C. 539,
taking in the scene about him, he would have seen naught but
sand and sky in all directions save one. Had he attentively
examined the northwestern horizon he would have observed
a brownish cloud and beneath the cloud a small black spot.
As he might have continued gazing, the cloud would have
increased in size and density and the black spot enlarged until
it changed from a single blot upon the horizon to a myriad
of moving objects. As the moments sped by and the objects
came nearer he would have perceived them to form a com-
pany of horsemen and the cloud to be a cloud of dust raised
by the hoofs of the steeds composing the rapidly moving troop.
Any inhabitant of the world of that day would have im-
mediately recognized it as a body of Babylonian cavalry, a
branch of that terrible army which made Babylon "the ham-
mer of the whole earth.”
The troop was composed of an hundred fighting men who
rode horses, besides a retinue of fully forty servants, each
of whom rode upon one mule and led another upon whose back
a portion of the necessary supplies and equipments were packed.


THE WINGED LIONS
3
These servants were of various nationalities, but the swarthy ·
negro-like Susianians were the most numerous, while the
Semitic features of Hebrews abounded. The mules allotted
to this portion of the cavalcade were spirited and active ani-
mals, resembling those for which Khuzistan is famous at the
present day.
The horsemen were a splendid body, the equal, if not the
superior, of any similar body the world of that day con-
tained. All the riders were young, richly uniformed, and
mounted upon the finest specimens of horse-flesh to be found
in all Chaldea.
The soldiers were short and broad-shouldered. Their heads
were large and well-formed, the foreheads straight but not
high, and the lips a trifle full. Each rider was the possessor
of an abundant growth of hair, both upon the head and face.
Their thick black locks flowed without restraint over their
necks and shoulders, affording a fine protection from the sun's
fierce rays. Nearly all wore beards which hung in crisp curls
upon their breasts. Their dark complexions, their flattened
noses, and their general physiognomy bespoke their ancient
Cushite descent.
Of head-dress they had little, their thick black locks giving
all the protection needed against the elements. A single fillet
of linen cloth wound about their heads sufficed. Their general
dress was elaborate. A long linen gown hung from the shoul-
ders reaching nearly to the feet. This gown or tunic was
covered by a short sleeveless coat, richly embroidered, which
barely reached to the knees. It hung only from the left shoul-
der, leaving the right shoulder and both arms entirely bare.
The arms thus exposed were round and sinewy but greatly
browned as a result of the outdoor life constantly led by the
men. A low boot, in some cases made of linen, in others
of goat skin, was worn. This boot was embroidered and
laced up the front. The fillet of linen about the head and
a broad leather belt encircling the body somewhat higher
up than the waist, completed their clothing.


RHESA
Their armor and weapons were crude but well adapted to
the needs of their time and their methods of warfare. In
front of each rider and attached to his saddle horn was a
bronze helmet which was donned upon going into battle.
Slung from the left shoulder by a leather strap was a thin
metal shield, while from his neck was suspended a padded
linen breastplate. Upon his back, a little to the right of the
center, each man carried a quiver containing his arrows. A
few of the soldiers carried long bronze-headed spears, the butt
resting upon the foot and the point held aloft, after the fashion
of the lances of knights of later days. The spear-carriers were
few in number and were scattered throughout the command
in such a manner as to suggest their being minor officers.
Slipped between his girdle and body, each man carried two
short daggers encased in unornamented sheaths. A curiously
shaped battle-axe completed the cumbrous armament each rider
was obliged to carry. Despite this load the men seemed re-
markably free from fatigue as they sat their horses well, their
heads held high and their backs straight. The absence of
prisoners, the apparent freshness of both horses and men, and
the careless manner in which the arms were carried, in-
dicated that the present errand was one of peace.
Thus mounted and equipped, and followed by its long con-
tingent of servants and heavily laden mules, the cavalcade
was an imposing one. An observer would experience no sur-
prise that the Hebrew prophet Habakkuk termed them "ter-
rible and dreadful.” This branch of the army now introduced
was one of the most famous bands of soldiery of the ancient
world. Organized by the young prince Nebuchadnezzar as his
own personal body-guard at the time his aged father sent him
against the Egyptian king, Necho, it had continued in un-
interrupted existence throughout the reigns of successive mon-
archs. It was now en route to the Golden City to play an
important part in the coronation ceremonies of the boy Bel-
shazzar, the last king of that great empire.
Although organized merely as the king's personal body-guard,
internst the Egydyguard at the prince Nebuery of the Induced


THE WINGED LIONS
it had on several occasions been ordered into battle with such
effect that it had been made a part of the regular army, and
upon it devolved the hardest fighting of many bloody cam-
paigns. Because of its fierce riding and desperate valor, the
guard had been early christened the Winged Lions, a name
that remained attached to it throughout all the years of its
existence. To be an officer, or even a member of this famous
troop was the highest ambition of the young Babylonian noble,
and to be its commander was one of the highest honors within
the gift of the king.
The present commander of the troop was a young man
of striking personality. Mounted upon a horse of a much
finer breed than those composing the body of the troop, and
dressed in a much more elaborate manner, he showed him-
self plainly to be the ruling spirit of the Winged Lions. His
body clothing consisted first, as did that of his men, of an
inner garment, but his outer coat differed greatly. It reached
to a little below the knees and was heavily fringed and hand-
somely embroidered. Unlike the coats of his men it had sleeves
that reached to and fully covered the wrists. This coat was
dyed a rich crimson and from sheer brilliancy alone would
have drawn attention to its wearer. His richly embroidered
boots reached to his knees, meeting the outer coat and thus
leaving no portion of his person uncovered. His hair was
not allowed to hang unrestrained, but was gathered in a
single stiff curl at the back of his head. His cheeks and chin
were covered by a well-kept black beard.
The girdle, instead of being a plain band of leather, was
covered with a strip of linen cloth embroidered in gold. A
broad cross-belt passed over his back and chest in a diagonal
manner, serving to hold in place the quiver containing his
arrows. Upon the front of this belt was much embroidery,
mostly of a mythological character. Among the emblems was
the mystic number assigned to the god Bel or Belus, thus
denoting him the young chieftain's patron.
In his head-dress the usual linen fillet had been improved
boots reached toon of his person uncove was gathered


RHESA
upon, making a sort of stiff turban, covered with gorgeous
devices and embroidered in gold. A golden bracelet upon the
left wrist and a necklace of gold and pearls completed the
leader's attire.
His armament was considerably lighter than that of his
men. The customary linen breastplate hung from his neck, and
as previously mentioned, a quiver of arrows was strapped to
his back. Of armor he wore none, his helmet and shield be-
ing carried by a young man at his side, evidently his body-
servant. His battle-axe was attached to his saddle.
The noble horse upon which the young man sat was a jet-
black stallion of beautiful shape and graceful carriage. A
single white star in the center of his forehead was the only
exception to his prevailing color. The slender limbs, the
shapely head, and the delicate, sensitive ears, signified an ani-
mal of the finest breed-a king of his race. Indeed he was
one of that noble race for which Arabia has been noted through-
out all ages. The intelligent beast seemed to realize the im-
portance of the burden he carried. His shapely head was
held high, his neck proudly arched, and at each step his delicate
feet were raised in conscious pride.
The manly figure and bearing of the commander were such
as to win for him the plaudits of a multitude. He was taller
and of a slighter mould than his men; his features were finer;
more Semitic and less of the Cushite. He resembled more
the Hebrew than the Chaldean, his thick black hair and dark
complexion alone expressing the type shown in his men. His
face was the index of a noble soul and character. Such was
Nabomuran, the commander of the Bablyonian cavalry, a rank
not far removed from that of King Nabonidos himself.
A word must be said for Nabomuran's companion and body-
servant, who might well be termed a Babylonized Jew. A
son of Judah he certainly was, but his dress and ornaments
were essentially those of the Golden City, thus showing him
to have forsaken to a certain degree the habits and customs
of his forefathers, and to have adopted those of his captors.


THE WINGED LIONS
That he was more than a mere servant to the captain was
evidenced by the unrestrained conversation taking place be-
tween them as they rode along.
"Truly, O Heber, this Jerusalem of thine must have been
a wonderful city,” Nabomuran was saying.
"It was indeed,” replied the Jew. "The city of Jehovah,
the dwelling-place of the true God; it held a place in the
hearts of my people that never can be filled. Its temple was
a wonder of wonders, built of hewn stone and ornamented
with timbers brought from Mount Lebanon. The vessels
used in the temple service were of pure gold and pure silver."
"I have seen them in the temple of Bel. They are indeed
beautiful vessels, the like of which are not to be found in all
Babylon," said the soldier.
"I remember hearing an old man, a Levite, telling of the
splendors of the temple; the golden candlestick; the table of
shew bread; the great altar; and the Holy of Holies, the
dwelling-place of the Most High, which none but the high
priest could enter and he but once a year," continued the Jew.
“What a pity the rebellion of thy people caused our great
king to destroy so beautiful a city,” remarked the Babylonian.
"It was the will of God," answered the Jew reverently.
“I have heard much concerning thy God, Heber," con-
tinued the soldier, after turning a moment to see if all was
well with his command, “how great and powerful He is. It
has always seemed strange to me that He allowed Jerusalem to
be captured. Merodach or Bel would never permit our city
to be so taken.” The Jew smiled at his superior's assurance,
visions of Tiglath Pileser, Shalmaneser, Sargon, Sennacherib
and Asshur-bani-pal, great warriors before whom the proud
city had fallen probably coming before his eyes. He wisely
refrained from arguing with his master, but answered quickly.
"It was God's will that our fathers should be thus con-
quered as a punishment for their sins. We are now thoroughly
repentant and shall never more forsake the worship of the
true God; the God that brought our forefathers up out of
"Would enter and Most High, the Holy of the table of


RHESA
Egypt and has watched over us all these years. All Jews are
praying for a speedy deliverance from captivity and are ex-
pecting that deliverance to come ere long, as the seventy years
are well nigh completed.”
“What seventy years meanest thou ?” asked the Babylonian.
“The seventy years of captivity foretold by our great
prophet,” * answered Heber. “Our leaders teach us the
prophecy means seventy years from the time the first Jew was
brought to Babylon. If their interpretation is correct the time
is nearly completed, as it is now seven and sixty years since
Nebuchadnezzar, thy great king, first brought Judah under
his dominion and carried away the first captives. Only three
years more and we shall all return to our native land."
The Babylonian smiled sarcastically as he made answer:
“Thy hopes are unfounded I fear, my Heber. Never will
the Jews be liberated as long as the present line of kings hold
the Babylonish throne. King Nabonidos knows full well
that times of danger are approaching. He fears the rising
power of the Persian. It is now fifteen years since the Persian
Cyrus defeated our allies, the Lydians, and our king fears
Babylon will next receive his attention. Once we have beaten
him off, but he is sure to try it again. Were the true king,
the descendant of the great Nebuchadnezzar and the good Evil-
Merodach upon the throne, we need not fear the power of
the Persian. This powerful foe defeated, the liberation of the
Jews might follow."
"Exists there such a man?” asked Heber.
"A priest once told me "
Before Nabomuran could finish the sentence the conversa-
tion was interrupted by Belibus, the lieutenant of the troop,
who, leaving his place at the center of the cavalcade, had
galloped forward and placed himself at his superior's side.
"See!” he exclaimed, "the simoon!”.
The commander turned his head in the direction pointed out
by his assistant and saw that the sun, now on the edge of the
* Jeremiah 25:11.


THE WINGED LIONS
horizon, was obscured by a dark cloud. The atmosphere was
thick and murky, the wind was rising, the sand was even
now beginning to whirl about in clouds and every indication
of the dreaded simoon was manifest. To reach a place of
shelter was impossible, so the soldiers must protect them-
selves as best they could. Nabomuran ordered them to dis-
mount, a command instantly obeyed by all, soldiers and servants
alike. The horses were unsaddled and compelled to lie down
upon the sand in circles. The soldiers threw their saddle-
cloths over the horses' heads to protect their eyes and nostrils
from the flying, burning sand. Taking off their outer coats,
they protected their own faces in like manner. Then lying
prone upon the sand, close beside their faithful animals they
awaited the coming of the storm. Nabomuran and his Jewish
companion lay side by side in the outer circle of the company.
Several moments naturally had been required to make these
preparations so that they had hardly taken their places beside
their horses before the storm was upon them. The wind blew
with terrible violence, carrying with it whirling clouds of
heated sand caught up from the parched surface of the desert.
The atmosphere had a lurid glow, the air was hot and stilling
and the fine sand entered alike the nostrils of man and beast.
The horses became restless. Several of them arose and before
their riders could restrain them, were off across the desert
at a gallop. One soldier was injured by being trodden under
foot.
The storm steadily increased in severity until, some twenty
minutes from the time the men had completed their arrange-
ments for shelter, it had apparently reached its maximum
strength and velocity. At this moment the young commander
threw off the coat which protected his head, raised himself
on his elbow, and placing his hand to his ear, listened atten-
tively. From far off across the desert a faint cry reached his
ear.
"H-e-l-p," it sounded.
He continued to listen and again came the cry. At the


ΙΟ
RHESA
it
third repetition of the cry he bounded to his feet, and re
gardless of the storm, forced his horse to rise. Calling upon
the two soldiers nearest him to bear him company, he, with
out waiting to saddle, sprang upon his horse's back and rode
off across the desert in the direction from which the cry had
come. The soldiers called upon obeyed instantly, forced their
unwilling steeds into a gallop and followed their commander
at no great distance. With heads bowed upon their horses'
necks the trio pushed forward, urging the faithful animals
to their utmost. The breathing of the horses was short and
difficult; their eyes and nostrils were inflamed, but still they
pressed forward. The cry for help was repeated every few
moments, serving to guide them to the spot whence it came.
Suddenly Nabomuran, riding some fifty feet in front of his
men, reined in his steed just in time to prevent trampling
upon two prostrate figures that lay upon the sand directly in
front of him and almost under his horse's hoofs. The young
commander dismounted and knelt beside them.
"Jehovah be praised," the elder of the two persons ex-
claimed at sight of the soldier. "Help has reached us at
last.”
His companion upon hearing this half arose and removed
the cloak from about her head, revealing to Nabomuran the
features of a beautiful Jewess. She looked into his face with
confidence, and noticing his soldier's dress, said: "I told thee,
father, there must be soldiers near at hand. I was sure it
was a soldier's horse that so nearly trampled upon us. I also
remembered hearing of the arrival of a body of troops at
Damascus the day we left there."
“Ay, Orma, thou art right as usual,” said the old man
tenderly; then, turning to the soldier, he said: "Canst thou,
noble sir, give escort unto two helpless Jews? We have been
robbed by our Arab attendants and left upon the desert, with-
out even a horse."
"As soon as the storm abates we will seek my command


THE WINGED LIONS
II
II
wrapperdich he faste faithful beplace upon a second
and thou shalt finish thy journey in our company,” replied the
soldier.
This conversation was of necessity a very hurried one, con-
suming far less time than its narration indicates, the severity
of the storm making speech difficult. After replying to the
old Jew's request Nabomuran threw himself upon the sand
beside him, retaining a firm hold upon his horse's bridle, the
animal having already shown symptoms of uneasiness. The
soldiers took their places some ten or more feet away from
the group.
For at least half an hour the little party lay muffled in
their clothing, silent and motionless. By that time the storm
had so far abated that Nabomuran deemed it safe to set out
in search of his command. He therefore arose and called upon
his men to do likewise. With his outercoat, which had been
wrapped about his head during the storm, he improvised a sad-
dle which he fastened upon his horse's back with the bridle
reins, trusting the faithful beast to follow without guidance.
He lifted the Jewess to her place upon the back of his own
steed and assisted her father to mount a second horse. Such
baggage as the thieving Arabs had left behind was packed upon
the back of the remaining animal. The party was then ready
to start.
Nabomuran placed his hand upon his horse's nose and spoke
a few words to him in Babylonian. The intelligent beast
seemed to catch his master's meaning and they started off at
a slow walk, followed by the rest of the party. The two
soldiers walked, each at the head of his own horse.
The conversation engaged in by the young commander and
the old Jew had been in that mixed language, part Hebrew,
part Bablyonian which the inhabitants of the Golden City
used when speaking with their captives. Nabomuran was
therefore greatly surprised when he heard himself addressed
in pure Babylonian by his fair companion.
"Is there any danger of missing thy way?" she asked.
“I think not, lady," he replied. “Although the sun has
lifted the the faith upon his hostorm, hei which had upon


12
RHESA
now set I am confident of finding my command, especially
as they will miss me and remain where I left them until my
return."
“But suppose we do miss them?” she continued anxiously.
"We shall be obliged to camp on the desert until daylight,"
he replied.
Her fears were somewhat allayed by the confident manner of
the soldier. She remained silent for some moments but pres-
ently she spoke again.
“Listen sir,” she exclaimed.
Nabomuran stopped. A trumpet blast could be distinctly
heard in a direction nearly opposite to that they were pursu-
ing.
"We are going in the wrong direction,” he murmured.
Then, placing his hands to his mouth so as to form a trumpet,
he hallooed thrice.
Three long blasts from the trumpet answered him. The
distant tramp of horses could be heard upon the still night
air. The party remained where they had halted while the
horsemen came nearer and nearer. In a few moments the
party arrived and gave vent to shouts of joy at finding their
beloved commander safe. The party consisted of about twenty
men from the Winged Lions, headed by Nergalshazzar the
trumpeter, and accompanied by the young Jew, Heber. The
latter looked curiously at the old Hebrew but received no
sign of recognition. The young lady, however, favored him
with a smile, showing by that slight greeting that they were
not unknown to one another.
Under the guidance of the newcomers, rescued and rescuers
set off together and in less than half an hour they came upor
the main body, which had remained where we last saw it
while a picked troop had gone in search of its commander.


A NIGHT ON THE DESERT
CHAPTER II
A NIGHT ON THE DESERT
The night. As far ast as they had don for her sake the cont
Now that the party was reunited, Nabomuran turned his
attention to the matter of securing some sort of shelter for
the night. As far as the soldiers were concerned they could
camp upon the desert as they had done many times before,
but a lady was now of the party and for her sake the com-
mander wished to find a suitable place to spend the night.
He sent for Kudur, the chief of the servants. The Susianian
came as ordered. When asked concerning a place of shelter
he stood silent for a moment, and then told the commander
of a brick enclosure situated some three miles east of their
present station, to which he promised to guide them.
Preparations for the start were at once begun. The horses
were resaddled, the pack mules reloaded and the cavalcade
was soon ready to set out after a delay, occasioned by the
storm, of more than two hours. Three litters were con-
structed; one for the old Jew, another for his daughter, and
the third for the soldier injured in the stampede at the com-
mencement of the storm. Several men whose horses had
galloped away at that time were obliged to borrow mules
from the servants.
Led by the Susianian, Kudur, the company took up its march.
The safety and convenience of those in the litters made haste
impossible. In columns of fours, a space between each four,
the cavalcade was upwards of a quarter of a mile in length.
The litters were carried by four servants each and were placed
in the center of the troop. A guard of eight horsemen sur-
rounded them to prevent an attack from the wild animals of
the desert which, since sundown had made their appearance.
A pack of jackals numbering a dozen or more kept them com-
pany until they reached their destination.
It was fully nine o'clock when Kudur turned to Nabomuran


14
RHESA
(who was riding directly behind him) and, pointing to a low
mass of masonry whose dim outline could be distinguished by
the light of the newly risen moon, said: “Here master, is the
place I told thee of.”
Nabomuran rode forward to the gate and was about to enter
when he suddenly discovered a previous tenant to be in posses-
sion. Just inside the entrance he distinguished the form of a
gigantic male lion. The huge beast was standing upon all
fours, lashing his tawny side with his powerful tail. His eyes
flashed fire. Every muscle beneath his skin was swollen and
his whole frame quivered with excitement and anger at being
thus disturbed. He made an impressive but yet a terrible
picture. He showed himself indeed the king of beasts.
The young commander reached over his shoulder for his
bow and arrows. They were gone. In the excitement at-
tendant upon the storm and the events following it they had
been removed. His command was still some little distance to
the rear, and before they could reach him the lion would spring.
Kudur was but a few feet distant, but being a servant he
was unarmed. The angry beast crouched for his terrible
spring. A thought flashed into Nabomuran's mind. He grasped
his battle-axe and tore it from his saddle, bursting the leather
thongs that fastened it as though they had been silken threads.
Rising in his saddle, he hurled the weapon at the beast with
all the force of his strong right arm and with an accuracy
born of constant practice. The axe struck the animal squarely
upon the jaw, inflicting a painful but not fatal wound.
Angered by this attack, the beast gave a great roar of pain and
sprang at Nabomuran, who had no opportunity of escape. He
watched with a calm despair the spring of the beast. He
seemed charmed by the light of those terrible eyes and felt
no fear. An instant only was the beast in the air. He had
miscalculated. Instead of landing upon the horse's back, he
fell upon the ground scarcely three feet distant. Ere he
could rise and crouch for another spring a javelin whistled


A NIGHT ON THE DESERT
through the air. It was thrown unerringly and pierced the
beast to the heart.
Seeing his enemy thus vanquished, Nabomuran threw off his
strange stupor and dismounted to look for his friend in need.
A short, stocky man, clad in leather breeches, over which a long
flowing robe of a bright scarlet hue was worn, stood close beside
the Babylonian. Upon his head was a bright bronze helmet; his
chest was protected by a thin breastplate of the same material
and his legs were encased in leather boots. A golden chain was
hung about his neck and golden bracelets encircled his wrists.
“Noble sir, to whom am I indebted for this act? Thou hast
saved my life," said Nabomuran as he approached the stranger.
"My name is of little consequence,” said the Mede, for such
his dress and appearance betokened him. “I, accompanied by
a few followers, was riding in this vicinity. During the recent
storm I became separated from my companions and am now
endeavouring to find them.”
“The night is now upon us and to find them ere morning
will be an impossibility," said the Babylonian. "Thou hadst
best spend the night here with us and seek thy companions on
the morrow."
"But sir, the Medes and Babylonians are now on terms of
enmity and these, thy followers, look dangerous," answered the
Mede, glancing at the troop which by this time had reached the
gateway.
“The man who saved my life need have no fear of accepting
my hospitality,” replied Nabomuran with an air of quiet dig-
nity.
"Forgive me that I doubted thee," said the stranger. "I
gladly accept thy kind invitation.”
Some servants now came forward and after considerable ef-
fort removed the carcass of the lion. The company then filed
within the enclosure.
The retreat in which they found themselves was an ancient
prototype of those khans now so universal throughout the east.
It was a nearly square enclosure, measuring some three hundred


RHESA
feet on each side, its four faces placed toward the cardinal
points of the compass. Under the northern wall was a row
of brick apartments intended as the sleeping places of the
leaders of whatever company sought shelter within its walls.
Directly opposite these apartments, and running parallel with
the southern wall, was a low railing of palm wood intended as
a hitching place for the dumb members of the party. The
large open space in the center of the enclosure was intended
as the camping-place of the ordinary merchants and the servants
of the caravans for whose accommodation the building had been
erected.
Once inside the enclosure every man dismounted and prep-
arations for the night were instantly made. Belibus, the lieu-
tenant of the troop, took the superintendence of the camping
arrangements, leaving Nabomuran free to look after his guests.
Assisted by some Hebrew servants he made the sleeping apart-
ments as comfortable as the means at hand allowed. With tents
and other articles of camp equipage, couches were constructed
for the lady and the wounded men.
By the time these preparations were completed a party of
Susianian servants appeared with the materials for the evening
meal, which was to be served to the more distinguished members
of the party in the apartment chosen by Nabomuran. The
servants spread a large linen cloth upon the hard brick floor of
the apartment and placed thereon the various articles of food.
The food consisted of wheaten cakes, dates and honey. For
drink they had palm wine with a small earthen bottle of
grape wine brought from the south of Armenia. The party
which gathered about this rough table consisted of seven persons.
including the three soldiers, three guests and Heber. Belibus
did not arrive until the others had nearly finished their repast.
so engrossed had he been with his duties outside.
The meal over, Nabomuran and his lieutenant left the apart-
ment and made a complete tour of the enclosure, carefully
inspecting the arrangements made for the accommodation of the


A NIGHT ON THE DESERT
17
men and horses. Having seen that everything possible had
been done, they returned to the commander's apartment.
The group about the cloth was unchanged, save that the lady
member of the party had sought the retirement of her chamber.
The old Jew and the Mede were engaged in a religious discus-
sion, particularly touching upon the subject of a future life
after death, a subject then exciting much contention among the
world's thinkers. The entrance of the two officers put an end
to this discussion. The commander bowed to his guests with
true Oriental deference as he entered.
“Come, my friends," he said, “as we are to spend the night
together, it is fitting that we should know each other. To this
end I will introduce myself. I am Nabomuran, son of
Neboakhu, chief priest of the temple of Belus. As his son I
am a noble of Babylon. In times of peace I command the
king's body-guard; in times of war I am a general. I am re-
turning from a special mission to Judea, under orders to reach
Babylon in time to assist in the coronation ceremonies of young
Belshazzar, my former pupil in archery and kindred sports,
whom the king is to make his associate on the throne.”
Having thus spoken the young commander took his place
beside the cloth. The Mede now arose and, bowing to each
member of the group in turn, thus spoke:
"Friends, for such we are here tonight, know me as Rastagus
of Ecbatana, a soldier of Astyages, king of Media and now an
officer in the army of Cyrus, king of Persia, the grandson of
my former master. Although we are now known as thine
enemies, yet I am thy guest and as such, thy friend. Should
Cyrus and Nabonidos meet in war, which I fear they will, for
our king resents the league thy monarch made with Croesus,
king of Lydia, may the gods forbid my ever meeting one of this
company in battle. Should we meet I promise not to forget
company is kind entertainments forget that
"Nor shall I, good Rastagus forget that king of spearmen
who this day saved my life,” said Nabomuran, rising to ac-
knowledge the courtesy of his guest. "I, too, fear a war be-


18
RHESA
tween Cyrus and Nabonidos and should that war come I shall
do my duty as a soldier of Babylon, but never shall my hand
be raised against Rastagus the Mede.”
After exchanging these civilities the two future enemies re-
sumed their seats upon the floor beside the cloth.
· “It is now my turn,” said the old Jew, rising. “Nehum, the
son of Eladim, a prince of the tribe of Judah, am I. My
father perished at the last siege of Jerusalem, when Nebuza-
radan destroyed the city. I, a child of twelve years, was taken
captive and carried to Babylon. For nine and forty years have
I been a resident of that great city; but I am still a Jew, am
still a follower of Jehovah. My daughter and I are returning
from Jerusalem whither we carried the body of my deceased
wife, the bride of my youth, my companion in captivity, the
mother of my boy and girl. We traveled under escort of a
body of Arabs hired by gold. On our return (for the special
permission given me by the king required my immediate return).
we were robbed of our horses and nearly all of our goods by
the servants we had hired, and were left to perish on the desert.
Had not the great God sent this noble soldier to our rescue we
would have perished in the storm."
"And I,” said Nabomuran's servant, Heber, rising as the
old Jew was seated, “am Heber, the son of Nehum and that
good woman I now learn for the first time is no more."
“Oh, my father,” he cried, throwing himself at the old man's
feet, "for the sake of that dear mother, I beg of thee to forgive
thine erring boy. Remember not my perverseness, but grant
me thy love and forgiveness."
“My son," replied Nehum, clasping Heber to his breast, "the
forgiveness is granted. Praise the Lord I can again take thee
back to my heart.”
"This reconciliation is pleasant to behold," said the Baby-
lonian, "but such reunions are too sacred for the eyes of
strangers. I am sure we shall be pleased to excuse thee," turn-
ing to the old Jew. "There is probably much thou wouldst
like to say to thy son in private.”
the serlot the greated in the stort servant, Hot Nehum ar


A NIGHT ON THE DESERT
19
With many thanks for the consideration of the young com-
mander the two Hebrews bade farewell to the assembled com-
pany and withdrew to the apartment of Nehum. The company
now numbered but four persons, the three soldiers and the
Mede. The latter at once turned the conversation to the sub-
ject of Babylonian history.
“I have heard,” he said, “that thy king, Nabonidos, is not of
royal birth.”
This remark led Nabomuran into a brief summary of events
in Babylon since the destruction of Nineveh eighty-six years
before, closing thus: “The true royal line came to an end just
twenty years back, when the rab mag Neriglissar assassinated
the king Evil-Merodach.”
"I see,” replied the Mede, “but O noble Babylonian, I can
tell thee of something concerning the house of Nabopolassar
that thou knowest not. It is this. Some seventeen years ago
I was a member of a hunting party that went from the palace
of Astyages into the forest some miles from Ecbatana. We
hunted with great success for several days, pushing farther and
farther into the forest each day. Late in the afternoon of the
eighth day I came upon the track of a boar and, without calling
my comrades, I set off in pursuit of the animal. So intent was
I upon my hunt that I did not notice the sun's rapid journey
toward the horizon. At length I came upon the boar and easily
- killed him. It was then dark, but I determined if possible to
find my companions, so I set out upon my return, thinking to
come back after the carcass of the boar on the morrow. For
more than three hours I stumbled along through the forest
without finding any trace of my party. It being plain to me
that I was lost in the woods, I abandoned all hope of rejoin-
ing my companions before morning and began to seek a place
of shelter for the night. Another half hour I trudged along.
At length I saw just before me a dim light. With a cry of
joy I bounded forward toward the spot whence the light pro-
ceeded. I saw that it came from out a deep cave reached by
a long low passage. Knowing that such a light was made only


20
RHESA
by man, I boldly entered the passage and groped my way along
towards the cavern. The tunnel narrowed as it neared the
cave until I was obliged to crawl upon my hands and knees in
order to make my way along. As I neared the interior the
light became stronger and brighter, serving to guide me through
the rough passage. Finally I came to the spot where the tunnel
entered the cave. I crawled through the narrow opening and
found myself in the interior of a spacious chamber, hewn from
the solid rock by the hand of nature. Hanging from an iron
hook cemented into the ceiling was an earthen lamp whose
light had guided me hither. Beneath the lamp was a wooden
table covered with clay tablets and rolls of parchment. Seated
at the table, with his back toward me, was an old man clad
in a long white robe. His snow-white beard reached nearly
to his waist, and his hoary locks flowed over his neck and shoul-
ders like a silvery waterfall. So intent was he upon the perusal
of the documents in front of him that he had not noticed my
entrance. For several moments I stood regarding him in
silence, but at length I addressed him.
“ 'Kind sir,' I said, 'I am a hunter lost in the forest. The
light which streamed from out the entrance to thine abode
guided me here and seemed to bid me enter, so here I am.
Canst thou give me shelter for the night?'"
The old man arose and, after regarding me searchingly for
some moments, said: :
“'Son, thou art welcome to my abode. Enter and do as
thine inclinations bid thee.'"
"He pointed to an oaken stool which I secured and seated
myself opposite him. He seemed willing to talk, so we sat
there for several hours discussing events in the outside world.
At length I asked him what had caused him to separate himself
from his fellow-men. This is the story he told me.
“'My son, I am Kuri-Sipak the Chaldean. My birthplace
was Calneh in the land of Babylonia. When I was one and
twenty years of age I left my boyhood's home and journeyed
to Babylon, where I entered the service of the gods. I studied


22
RHESA
“After mounting his throne he forgot the Chaldean, his
teacher, who kept his inheritance for him. He dreamed a
dream which I could not interpret for him, and he would have
put all the wise men to death but for one Daniel, a Hebrew,
who revealed to him its meaning. Daniel was placed over
me and became the greatest man in Babylon. I stayed in the
temple and worshiped the gods, waiting for the day to come
when Kuri-Sipak should again become great. I lived to see
the great Nebuchadnezzar become as a beast of the field, crawl-
ing upon all fours and eating grass with the beasts. During
these years Daniel, the Hebrew, ruled in conjunction with
Neriglissar, the rab mag; but my time was coming. Nebu-
chadnezzar recovered from his strange malady but his strength
was gone and in less than a year he died. His son Evil-
Merodach * succeeded him. He was forty years of age when
he became king, just in the prime of his noble manhood, but
the gods, through men, decreed that his reign should be a short
one. As a youth he had been a constant visitor at the temple,
and from me he had learned much of history and science.
When he became king he remembered the old man, his in-
structor. He restored me to the position I had held under his
grandfather, and the Hebrew, Daniel, became merely one of
the wise men.
“ 'All now seemed bright before me and I gave thanks to
the gods for permitting me to enjoy a peaceful old age. For
one year and nine months we lived in happiness and then came
the fatal hour, the hour in which Babylon's glory began to
fade. Among the men displaced by Evil-Merodach when he
became king was the former rab mag, Neriglissar. This man
became enraged at the good king for setting at liberty the king
of the Jews, who had been in prison all these years, and began
conspiring against his master. With some twenty nobles as
base as himself this Assyrian, (for, thanks be to Bel, he was
not of Chaldea,) hatched his plot.
“ 'One evening I was in the palace conversing with the king
* Amil-Marduk in native texts.


A NIGHT ON THE DESERT
23
upon the subject of astronomy, a study for which he had a
great passion. We were in the midst of a friendly debate
when a eunuch entered and informed the king that Neriglissar
was without and desired an interview with him. The kind-
hearted monarch bade me withdraw for a few moments. I
obeyed and a moment later while walking through the corridor,
someone tapped me on the shoulder and whispered my name.
I turned quickly and recognized one of the younger priests
from the temple.
“'Quick, father,' said he, 'they are murdering the king.'
“ 'I became as a madman. Not knowing what I did I rushed
to the queen's apartment and told her of the dire event. With
all the bravery of her nature she picked up her babe, the young
prince Sheshbazzar, and started for the king's library, that be-
ing the room I had just left.
"Most mighty queen,' I cried, 'imperil not thy life and
the life of Babylon's future king.'
“ 'Shall Nitocris fear to die with her husband?' answered
the queen with all the dignity of the wife of one king and
the daughter of another.
“ 'She went not far, however, for scarcely ten feet from
her chamber door, she met the king running from his enemies.
She turned and led her lord into her own apartment.
"'They dare not enter the chamber of their queen,' she cried.
“ 'She gave too great credit to the assassins, however, for
the royal party had barely entered her apartment when their
enemies were upon them. Just as the ruffians entered some one
pulled my gown. I turned and saw a slave girl, the young
prince's nurse, holding a child in her arms.
“ 'Change my boy for the young prince,' she whispered tear-
fully.
"I saw her meaning at once and, taking the child from her,
I rushed toward the queen. In a few whispered words I told
her of the plan to save her babe and the change was effected.
With the little prince in my arms I escaped through a side


24
RHESA
door. Just outside the door I met the young priest who had
first warned me of the plot.
“ 'Here, take this child to the temple and watch it as thou
wouldst the holy fire on the altar,' I whispered.
"He bowed silently and, hiding the child in the folds of his
gown, left the palace. I returned to the queen's apartment,
determined to die with my king. I was too late to be of any
service. The good monarch lay upon the floor, pierced by a
dozen swords. Across his body lay that of the slave girl's babe.
The queen, loved by every inhabitant of Babylon, was un-
molested. She stood as an image of stone, gazing calmly at
the murderers of her husband. I shall never forget how she
looked, her dark Egyptian eyes flashing fire.
“Go,' she cried, pointing to the doorway, 'you have done
your worst. Leave the chamber of your queen at once.'
As Neriglissar turned to depart his venomous eye fell on me,
“ 'Ha, Kuri, hast thou escaped our vengeance? Think not
it is for long. The fate of the master is none too good for
the man,' he said.
“Good Kuri,' said the queen after they had gone, 'save
thyself. For thine act this night all Babylon will some day
honor thee. When that babe, saved by thee this night, shall
have grown to manhood he will avenge this murder and then
the name of Kuri-Sipak shall become an honored one. Go
now and save thyself while there is yet time.'
“I departed, leaving the palace by the same secret way the
young priest had taken, and made my way across the city to
the temple. Knowing full well the threat of Neriglissar was
not an idle one, I made preparations for my escape. I dyed
my hair and beard and disguised myself as a Hebrew. Taking
with me a few of my precious documents, I left the temple,
accompanied by the young priest in whose charge I had placed
the babe. I had with me a small block of clay bearing the
impression of King Evil-Merodach's seal and with its aid I
was able to pass through the gates. Just outside the city I
parted from my companion.


A NIGHT ON THE DESERT
25
“'Watch over that babe as thou wouldst thine own life.
He is Sheshbazzar, the king of Babylon. Keep his name a
secret. Bring him up as thine own child and when the proper
time comes, reveal unto him his identity and urge him to
avenge this night's deed,' said I in parting.
"Then we said farewell, he reentering the city and I start-
ing upon my journey, which led I knew not whither. Night
after night I tramped on, hiding by day wherever I could find
a shelter, until at last I came upon this cave. Here I have
remained during the three years that have now elapsed since
the night my king was murdered and here I expect to die.
Never more shall I look upon that great city whose every
brick is dear to me, nor look into the faces of my old com-
panions. Kuri-Sipak is forgotten already, but here I am de-
termined to die. Here I am at leisure to study and write as
I desire, and here I am far removed from ambitious, plotting
men. Only a mile from here I found a bed of clay which
will furnish me with all the writing materials I can use in
the short life yet remaining to me. Son, I am going to exact
of thee a pledge. Promise me thou wilt notice well the loca-
tion of this cave and twenty years hence come here, bury my
poor bones and take away my writings with thee that the world
may have the benefit of my studies. I see thou art not a
Babylonian, so I cannot ask thee to assist Sheshbazzar when
he arises to claim that which is his right.'"
"The old man bowed his head when he had finished speak-
ing,” continued Rastagus, “but when I arose to speak he looked
up at me in a solemn impressive manner. 'Hear me,' said I, ‘I
am not a Babylonian, but a Mede, yet I swear to thee, should
I live to see Sheshbazzar striving to win his throne, I, Mede
though I am, with what followers I can command, will go
to his assistance.'”
“So thou seest, good Nabomuran, neither Nabonidos nor
Belshazzar is thy true king. This rescued child should now
be a man of twenty-two or twenty-three, fully old enough to
claim his right. I ask of thee a pledge. Wilt thou promise


26
RHESA
throne from shall espouse his right, I swe
that when Sheshbazzar stands forth, declares himself and seeks
to gain his throne, thou wilt send a messenger to Rastagus the
Mede, that I may fulfill the promise made to Kuri-Sipak the
Chaldean?”
"I promise that most willingly,” answered the Babylonian.
“Hear me, good Rastagus, while I make a vow. When Shesh-
bazzar stands forth to claim his right, I swear by Bel and Nebo,
Nabomuran shall espouse his cause and help to wrest the
throne from those who now occupy it."
The Mede bowed solemnly as the Babylonian made his vow;
then, before rising he asked: "Hast thou ever heard of this
rescued babe before?”.
"A priest once told me it was so reporud at the time of Evil-
Merodach's murder, but of late people seem to have forgotten
it. From this day forth I shall make it my duty to hunt
diligently for this man and apprise him of his royal rights,"
answered Nabomuran.
“The night is now far spent," said the Mede. “Therefore
I will bid thee farewell till the morrow."
The two men embraced each other warmly and then parted
for the night. Nabomuran stood in the low arched doorway
of his apartment and watched Rastagus as he walked across the
sandy floor of the enclosure toward his sleeping-place. After
he had entered his apartment the young Babylonian turned back,
and bidding a kind farewell to his two subordinates, who had
departed immediately after Rastagus, he wrapped himself in
his cloak and lay down to a well earned rest.
CHAPTER III
THE GOLDEN CITY
Late in the afternoon of the second day following the fore-
going events, a small party was approaching Babylon from the
southwest. It consisted only of Nabomuran, Heber, and the


THE GOLDEN CITY
27
old Jew and his daughter. The Winged Lions had remained
behind at Borsippa under the command of Belibus, there to
remain until the morning of Belshazzar's inauguration day
when they were to report to their commander on the parade
ground east of the great temple. Rastagus the Mede had risen
early upon the morning following his stay on the desert and,
bidding his host a hasty farewell, had tramped off across the
desert toward the north in search of his followers.
The old Jew and his daughter had realized how seriously
their riding in litters impeded the progress of their companions
and they therefore volunteered to ride upon horses. Nabomuran
was overjoyed at recei ing their proposal, as his presence in the
capital at least two days before the coronation was imperative.
He improvised a side-saddle upon which the fair Orma sat with
rare grace. The young commander rode alone at the head of
the little company. His servant, Heber, fode in silence just
behind him.
Heber had been strangely silent and perplexed during the
two days since the night on the desert, when after three years
of separation and misunderstanding, he had been received again
into his father's love. Over and over again since his recon-
ciliation had he revolved the question of his duty. Should he
leave his master and return to his father's habitation or should
he remain with the Babylonian, at whose hands he had received
so many kindnesses? It was a difficult question to decide and
it was not until the last moment that his choice was made.
Though Nabomuran had traveled over the famous thorough-
fare many times before, the first view of Babylon as he ap-
proached the city from the southwest was always impressive.
Scarcely had the topmost stage of the great temple of Nebo at
Borsippa * faded from the view ere the dazzling sunlight, re-
flected from the gilded roof of the temple of Belus, struck the
travelers' eyes. The sun was nearly upon the horizon but
The ruins of this remarkable building are still standing about
fifteen miles to the southwest of the ruins of Babylon. It was at one
time thought to be the traditional Tower of Babel.


RHESA
its rays still lingered upon the majestic pinnacle of the great
temple. The road they were traversing was straight and wide
and the most frequented thoroughfare in Babylonia. Upon this
particular afternoon, however, it was well nigh deserted. A
quarter of a mile ahead were two horsemen. Off to the east
a company of Jews could be seen tilling a large wheatfield,
through which flowed one of Nebuchadnezzar's irrigating
canals. Still farther east the hazy atmosphere betokened the
vicinity of the Euphrates, that great river whose waters washed
the shores of Paradise in the days before man fell from his divine
estate.
The road at this point was lined with vast grain fields just
ready for the first harvest and in some of the fields laborers
with long sickles were at work cutting the golden stalks. Occa-
sionally a grove of majestic palms varied the monotony of
the usually treeless country. Every few rods they passed some
tomb wherein lay the bones of some great man, who possibly
had witnessed those glories of Babylon that were now upon
the decline.
So impressed were the members of the party with the scenes
of beauty about them, that they rode on in perfect silence, all
lost in admiration of the wonderful panorama. The hitherto
indistinct mass that denoted the situation of the great city was
now rapidly becoming clear. The sun's rays no longer made
of the temple roof a huge dazzling mirror and they could gaze
upon the beauty of the city without inconvenience to their eyes.
Already the walls, crowned with their numberless watch towers,
were easily distinguished and even the little moving dots of
men upon its summit were clearly seen.
It was not, however, until they rode over the brow of a
slight elevation and began descending its eastern slope that the
real view of the city burst upon them. There at their feet lay
the mistress of the world, proud Babylon, “the glory of king-
doms, the beauty of the Chaldees' excellency,” as she was termed
by the prophet Isaiah. No first view of any modern city could


THE GOLDEN CITY
compare with the wonderful stupendousness of the scene be-
neath them. The great wall, one hundred and fifty feet * in
height and fourteen miles on each face, (a total circumference
of fifty-six miles) lay immediately before them, stretching away
in either direction from the gate they were about to enter.
The upper stories of the great pyramidal temple rose heaven-
ward many feet above the walls. All other buildings within
the city were invisible from their vantage point, so complete
and high were the mammoth bulwarks that separated the people
of Babylon from their enemies.
At the base of the great outer wall ran a wide, deep moat
denying access to the city after seven o'clock in the evening.
At that hour the sentinels on duty lifted the long palm wood
bridges and closed the great brazen gates. After that time no
man could enter or depart without a pass from the king or the
rab mag. As it was now nearly the closing time, Nabomuran
urged his steed into a gallop and motioned his companions to
do likewise. A few moments later they galloped over the nar-
row bridge and passed through the great Shamas Bab (sun
gate), the largest and most important of the twenty-five gates
piercing the great wall on its western face.
The party were now within the precincts of the great city
but they were by no means at their journey's end. A wide
belt of land, mostly under cultivation, although a few low
cottages were to be seen, lay between them and the inner wall
of the city. There was no longer need of unusual haste, for
the inner gates were closed only in times of emergency and
the bridge over the river was not removed until late in the
evening. Inside the wall the scene was entirely changed.
From a mere highway the Borsipian road had become a wide
and well paved thoroughfare. Like the other streets of the
city it was as straight as an arrow. Every two-thirds of a
* The figures of Q. Curtius whose estimate is about midway between
the highest and lowest of other writers. Herodotus makes them three
hundred and thirty feet high while Strabo calls them only seventy five
feet. It is difficult to reconcile these various estimates.


30
RHESA
mile marked a square where another street, as wide and well
paved, crossed it at right angles.
As the party neared the inner wall they began to meet more
people. The two men who had been riding ahead of them
since early in the afternoon were now but a few feet distant
and their identity could be established. Hearing the tramp of
horses so near them the two priests (for such their attire de-
noted them) turned to meet the party. Nabomuran halted,
dismounted and advanced to meet the elder of the priests, who
also dismounted. They met midway between the two com-
panies, falling upon each other's necks in true Oriental fashion.
“I am glad to see thee safely returned, my son," said the old
priest.
"Thanks be to the gods I am permitted to behold thee once
more, my father. It seems years instead of months since we
parted," answered Nabomuran.
The soldier presented his father and the other priest to his
fellow-travelers and then the enlarged party moved forward
again. A few rods farther on they again came to a halt, this
time at a call from Nehum. The young commander again dis-
mounted, going directly to the side of the Jewess, whom he
assisted to the ground. The house before which they halted
was typical of the suburbs of the great city. It was constructed
entirely of brick and was roofed with timbers of palm wood,
covered with highly glazed tiles. Along its western face ran
a long low veranda, supported by columns of palm wood, en-
circled with bunches of reeds, the whole covered with plaster
and painted a light blue, contrasting strangely with the somber
hue of the house itself. While it was only two stories in height
the building spread out over considerable ground. The occupa-
tion of such a house proved Nehum to be a man of some import-
ance and wealth.
"Noble sir," said the old Jew, taking the soldier's hand, “I
cannot express my gratitude to thee for our rescue and pro-
tection. Here I dwell while in this land, and here I shall be
pleased to welcome thee at any time."


THE GOLDEN CITY
"My poor service is of little account, but I thank thee for
thine invitation, and hope to avail myself of it,” replied the
soldier.
Orma came forward shyly but yet with an air of perfect
self-possession..
"I can but repeat my father's words,” she said.
"Fair lady," replied Nabomuran, "I am indeed happy if I
have been of any service to thee. I hope I may have the
pleasure of again meeting thee when I call at thy abode."
The farewells were said and the two Jews turned to enter
the path that led up to their habitation. Nehum stopped sud-
denly and turned to his son, who sat silent and gloomy upon
his horse's back.
“Heber, my son, stayest thou here with us or wilt thou
continue with thy kind master ?” he asked.
Nabomuran hastened to say: "Decide for thyself, Heber. If
thou wishest to remain with thy father thou hast my consent."
The young man sat silent for a moment, his head bowed upon
his breast. Throughout the day he had been dreading this
moment and now that it was come he still was unprepared
to make the decision. He felt the eyes of all upon him and
it embarrassed him. After some moments he answered: “I
will stay with my master for the present.”
"So be it,” answered his father, disappointed at the decision.
The sentinels at the inner gate bowed deferentially to the
two noblemen as they rode through into the city proper. From
a rural suburb they had now passed into a thickly-settled, popu-
lous city. The Borsipian road, still retaining the same name,
was lined upon both sides with the residences of the wealthy
and the noble. Houses three and four stories high, surrounded
by spacious grounds and gardens followed each other in rapid
succession. It was a brilliant and beautiful sight. The cool
of the evening had arrived and many of the residents were
enjoying themselves, sitting upon their broad verandas or stroll-
ing through their gardens. From out of some of the houses
floated the sounds of music, the sweet low chords of the harp
hey rode througed into a thick the same namey


32
RHESA
and sambuca, the shrill toot of the horn or the weird strains
of the symphonia. Occasionally a woman's voice could be heard
rehearsing in song some old tale of the gods or of Gilgames, the
Babylonian Hercules.
Beyond the fashionable dwellings came a few houses of
business, after which the street came to an abrupt end at a
broad stairway leading up the mound on whose summit the old
palace (now very seldom used as a royal residence) was erected.
This palace had several times been assigned to the Winged
Lions as a barrack. Here they were obliged to make a detour,
going completely around the palace and emerging upon the
river just north of it. The platforms of the drawbridge were
in place, and they galloped over. Had they been too late for
the bridge, they would have been obliged to cross the river in
a boat, leaving their horses on the western side until morning.
Once upon the eastern side of the river they urged their steeds
forward and fifteen minutes later entered the precincts of the
great temple. They rode around the base of the enormous
building, and out at the northern gateway of the enclosure,
emerging upon a street lined with rows of houses, all save
one built after a uniform design. The first house on the
northern side of the street was larger and more pretentious than
its neighbors. Before this house they came to a stop and dis-
mounted. The gate was opened and three servants came out.
Two of them took charge of the horses and the third led the
way into the dwelling. The young priest, who had been
Neboakhu's traveling companion, dismounted with the others,
and gave his horse to a servant, but instead of entering the
house (the chief priest's home), he walked on to his own resi-
dence.
As soon as Neboakhu and Nabomuran had removed the
stains of travel, supper was served in the dining room of the
dwelling. While they were yet sitting at the table, a servant
called out Nabomuran. The soldier emptied the wine goblet
he was holding and passed through into the reception room
where a magnificently dressed man about fifty years of age,


THE GOLDEN CITY
33
awaited him. As Nabomuran entered the room, the visitor
arose to greet him.
"Allow me to be the first to welcome thee home to Babylon,"
said the visitor.
“I am glad to see thee, noble Vulmaran,” replied the soldier.
"How go matters at the palace?"
"Our lord Merodach has been with thee I see," continued
the courtier. “Thou hast returned looking more comely than
before. The king is more inactive than ever, takes more
pleasure in the vanities of life and seems to have lost all the
ambitions he once possessed. He is daily becoming craftier,
more cruel, and harder to please.”
“And the young prince?” asked the soldier.
"Belshazzar, with all the exuberance of childhood looks for-
ward eagerly to his coming inauguration. He thinks not of
the cares and responsibilities the office carries with it; he sees
only the glory and the tinsel,” answered the rab mag, that
being the courtier's position.
“The young prince was my pupil in archery and other sports.
Does he still take interest in such matters?”.
"Nay," replied Vulmaran, “behind his years in physical
power, he is far ahead of them in sensuality. Already he takes
the greatest delight in his wine and his women.”
"Alas, Vulmaran," said Nabomuran sadly, "this nation is
illy prepared to meet Cyrus with his countless hosts of well-
trained men, all inured to hardship. Neither Nabonidos nor
Belshazzar is the man to lead the armies of Babylon against her
enemies.”
“Thou art right," answered the official. “When fighting
comes thou art the man on whom we must depend. But I am
forgetting mine errand hither., The king has been informed of
thy arrival and has sent me to summon thee to the royal
presence at once. My chariot stands without ready to carry
thee to the palace."
"If I am to visit royalty I must change my attire. I will not
keep thee waiting long," said Nabomuran.


34
RHESA
"I will wait patiently,” said the rab mag.
Vulmaran reclined upon a luxurious divan while the soldier
was changing his attire. When the young man again entered
the room the official arose to meet him, as before, but more
particularly to look him over. Critical as was this court re-
tainer, he could find nothing amiss in the soldier's attire. From
head to foot he was the gentleman of rank, wearing his jasper
seal and carrying his gold-headed cane.
“Thou wilt do,” said the courtier.
They left the house together and entered the gaudy chariot
of Vulmaran. The driver applied the lash and away rolled
the vehicle over the smooth pavement. Just as they started
the moon arose from behind the temple and flooded their way
with light, illuminating the buildings as they passed. Two of
the palace gates were closed but Vulmaran's pass caused them
to open in succession. The third and innermost portal had
not been closed. With a final flourish the driver reined in
his steeds before the great emblasoned entrance of the royal
palace. The rows of guards standing in the porch saluted as
the two men passed between them. The rab mag led the way
through the deserted hallway to a large room, the royal library.
At the doorway they were detained while a enunch carried their
names to the king. He returned in a moment.
"It is the will and pleasure of the king that the noble
Nabomuran enter his presence. Thou, noble Vulmaran, he
bids seek thy home for the night, but he desires thy company
early in the morning," said the eunuch.
Nabomuran bade the rab mag good night, and entered the
room. Vulmaran remained outside a moment.
“Remember, Gaddina, I want a report of this interview," he
said to the eunuch. The man bowed and slipped silently
through the draperies of the doorway.
"I like not the presence of this young man at this time. I
have nothing against him personally, but I fear he will stand in
my way, especially if my suspicions concerning him are correct.
Beware, Nabomuran, cross not my path for I am desperate.”


THE GOLDEN CITY
35
After thus apostrophizing the absent soldier the wily rab
mag left the palace.
The apartment entered by the soldier was a spacious and
magnificent one, one hundred feet in length by sixty in width.
Its walls were of glazed bricks whose surface bore many pic-
tured scenes of war and hunt. Chief among the scenes were
those illustrating the campaigns of Nebuchadnezzar, by whom
the building had been erected.
With slow step and bowed head Nabomuran approached the
eastern end of the apartment where, upon a couch covered with
those rare rugs and carpets for which Babylon was noted,
beneath a rich canopy of embroidered muslin, reclined a man
in middle life. His size and shape were not clearly visible but
one would call him short and extremely stout. One bare ankle
which projected from beneath his costly linen gown, was fat
and flabby. His hair and beard, which once had been as black
as Nabomuran's own, were now liberally besprinkled with silver.
His eyes were small and deep set. The whole bearing of the man
was one of luxurious effeminacy. This was Nabonidos, king
of Babylon, a man once noted for his strength and activity;
now sunk into the depths of gluttony, drunkenness and lascivi-
ousness.
The king was the only occupant of the room, it plainly being
his desire to have the interview a private one. Nabomuran
approached the raised platform upon which the monarch's
couch rested, and knelt upon the lowest step.
"I am here at thy command, O King,” he said.
"Arise, Nabomuran, we will dispense with all formality to-
night, our busines being of the utmost importance," said the
monarch, his shrill falsetto voice contrasting with the deep bari-
tone of the soldier.
"I first desire a full report of thy mission to Judea,” con-
tinued the king.
Nabomuran narrated every incident of his journey, from the
day he left Babylon until he returned, omitting only his meet-
ing with Rastagus.


36
RHESA
“Thy report is satisfactory. I then have nothing to fear
from Judea ?”
“I would no greater danger was near than a rising there.
The country is in ruins; the inhabitants too few and too poor
to think of rebellion," replied the soldier.
“My greatest fear," said the monarch, “is of trouble here
in the city. The rumors concerning one Sheshbazzar, who is
said to be the son of Evil-Merodach, are continually spreading.
I have used every means to find the man but without avail.
It is said he knows nothing of his royal birth but certain dis-
contented nobles are seeking for him to urge him to rebellion.
Hast thou ever heard of the man ?”
During this speech Nabonidos had kept his eyes fastened upon
the young man's face, studying it intently.
“I have heard it said the babe was rescued at the time of
Evil-Merodach's murder, but if such a man exists I know him
not,” was the reply.
"I believe thy words, Nabomuran," said the king, "and I
feel that I can depend upon thee. I have been told that a plot
to seat this man is on foot and is liable to culminate at the
time of our son's coronation. I give it thee in charge to look
into this matter and put down such a rebellion the moment it
shows its head. Where is thy command ?"
"At Borsippa, O King."
"It is my pleasure that a trusty messenger be sent at once,
this night, to bid them come to Babylon with all haste. I place
the old palace at thy disposal. Thou hast an hundred men?”
"Precisely an hundred. By a custom instituted at the time
the Winged Lions were organized, we always have an hundred
men. When one dies or withdraws, another is ready to fill
the vacancy,” replied the commander.
"It is well,” said the king. “Thou wilt divide thy com-
mand into two bands of fifty men each. One thou wilt com-
mand; the other, Belibus. Each company will patrol the city
twelve hours out of the twenty-four, six hours on duty and
six hours off. Thus by day and by night thy horsemen will


HEBER'S MIDNIGHT RIDE
37
be on guard. If they see aught suspicious, the infantry will
be ordered out. Send thy messenger at once, as soon as he
can start. Now thou canst go."
Vabomuran made a profound bow and withdrew.
CHAPTER IV
HEBER'S MIDNIGHT RIDE
Nabomuran left the royal residence by the way he had
entered. He found in waiting one of the king's chariots, ready
to carry him to his home. As he was on the point of mounting
it a servant came hurriedly out with word for him to return
to the king's presence. He returned at once, finding the mon-
arch lying in the same manner as during the previous interview.
Standing at the end of the king's couch was a bright and not
unhandsome youth of about fifteen years of age. When Nabo-
muran entered the apartment the lad left his station and ran
down the room to meet the soldier. Throwing himself into
the young man's arms, he cried: “Welcome home, my teacher.
It seems ages since last I saw thee.”
“Prince, I have missed one who was so apt a scholar," an-
swered the soldier. "How goes the practice?"
"Alas!” answered Belshazzar, “I have now no time for prac-
tice. I must attend the councils that I may learn the ways of
government for, thou knowest, I am to be king."
The young prince danced with childish glee as he made this
announcement. Truly he looked forward eagerly to his coming
responsibilities, unconscious of the trials attendant upon king-
ship.
Nabomuran stepped forward to the platform, avoiding any
further demonstration on the boy's part.
"I called thee back to give thee my pass that will enable,
thy messenger to get through the gates," said the king, as he
handed the soldier a small clay tablet.


38
RHESA
mon through the liked him. Tand no wonde world.
Nabomuran bowed as he received it. Kneeling he kissed the
monarch's outstretched hand and then withdrew. He passed
out through the great ornamental porch and entered the chariot,
which still awaited him. The return trip from the palace was
made in remarkable time and no wonder, for the stables of
Nabonidos were famed throughout the world.
Upon entering his own dwelling Nabomuran removed his
slippers and walked softly down the wide hall to his own small
room at the end. He silently pushed aside the heavy draperies
screening the entrance, and stepped within. Upon a couch
in the farther corner of the chamber lay the silent form of
Heber, wrapped in deep slumber. The soldier called: “Heber,
awake.”
There was no response. Again the soldier called, but still
there was no movement on the sleeper's part to show that he
heard his master. Nabomuran repeated his summons, this time
placing his mouth close to the sleeper's ear. Heber awoke at
the last call and seeing his master, sprang to his feet. While
he hastily attired himself Nabomuran explained the cause of his
nocturnal visit.
“The king bids me send a trusty man to Borsippa this night
and order the Winged Lions to march at once. As thou art
the most trusty man I know, it is my wish that thou shouldst
carry the message. Wilt thou undertake it? If the king's
fears are not without grounds the journey may prove a danger-
ous one, but I feel sure thou wilt get through in safety. My
horse Saru will take thee as the wind, after which he is named.”
“I will go, master," was the young man's simple answer.
“Then thou wilt call Susa and bid him saddle Saru while I
indite the message to Belibus.”
Nabomuran passed down the stone staircase to the first floor
and entered the room used as the library or study. Here a
dim light was burning. With his keen-edged dagger he
trimmed the wick and the light blazed up brightly. Upon a
table in one corner of the room stood an earthen bowl partially
filled with soft, damp clay. Taking therefrom a handful of


HEBER'S MIDNIGHT RIDE
.
39
the clay he rolled it out flat with a bronze roller, carefully
trimming it square with his dagger. Then with a sharp in-
strument, he began indenting upon the soft clay his message to
his lieutenant and friend. It read thus:
Babylon, the eighth day of Tammuz in the
sixteenth year of King Nabonidos.
Nabomuran, Captain of the Guard, to Belibus,
Lieutenant, Borsippa:-
May the good will of our lords Merodach and Bel be with
thee and bless thee forever.
I send thee greeting, my Belibus, and with it a message from
the king, may Bel be his comforter. Thus saith the king: Bid
the Winged Lions come to Babylon with all haste. Come
therefore at once; wait not for the light of day. The business
of the king is urgent.
Nabomuran.
The message completed the soldier took the tablet and passed
through into the kitchen of the house, where a small kiln stood
ready for his purpose. Placing the tablet in the kiln he turned
and retraced his steps to the library, where he sat down to
await Heber's coming. After the young Jew's entrance, Nabo-
muran reëntered the kitchen, removed the now hardened tablet
from the kiln, and placed it in a leather pouch. Returning to
the library he handed the pouch to Heber, who suspended it
about his neck by the strap intended for that purpose. The
soldier next handed him the king's pass which he slipped into
his girdle where it could easily be located when needed.
The two men passed out into the entrance hall of the dwell-
ing. After a silent parting embrace Heber stepped out into
the darkness and passed down the steps to the street. Without
the door stood the servant Susa, holding Saru firmly by the
bridle. The noble Arab liked not the idea of a midnight ride
and was restlessly pawing the ground. Heber gathered his
gown about his loins and vaulted into the saddle. Susa let go


40
RHESA
his hold upon the animal's bridle, and at a word from Heber
Saru bounded forward, shaking his head viciously. Heber
reined him down to a long, steady gallop, well calculated to
cover the distance in good time.
At the drawbridge over the Euphrates he halted, the plat-
forms not being in place. An officer appeared to whom Heber
showed the king's pass.
"Follow me," he said, handing back the tablet.
With one hand upon Saru's bridle the officer led the way
down the street running beside the river. Just south of the
bridge they turned to the right and descended a long, inclined
plane that led down to a dark tunnel. A soldier bearing a
small lamp came out of a brick sentry-box at the tunnel's mouth.
The officer turned to retrace his steps and Heber followed the
soldier into the tunnel. Guided by the flickering light Heber
made his way slowly and cautiously over the slippery pavement,
Saru resisting at every step. Over their heads flowed the Eu-
phrates, its presence manifested by the all-pervading dampness
and by the drops of water that percolated through the brick
lining of the tunnel.
Emerging from the tunnel on the western bank of the river
Heber waved his thanks to his conductor and chirruped to
Saru to go ahead again. The horse bounded forward. A
moment later they turned a corner and headed toward the
west. They were now upon the Borsipian road and Heber felt
relieved, deeming the way clear before him.
Except for the occasional call of a sentry on the distant walls
Saru's galloping hoofs were the only disturbers of the oppressive
stillness. Every hoofbeat sounded loud and clear upon the
hard pavement. There was joy in the young rider's heart as
he flew along. The confidence of his master caused a sense
of his own importance to swell up within him. After passing
through the inner wall, horse and rider settled down to the
work before them; a silent fellowship seemed to spring up be-
teen the pair, both feeling the dignity of their errand.
Suddenly Saru reared in air and began backing. Heber


HEBER'S MIDNIGHT RIDE
41
tried with voice and blow to urge him onward, but without
avail. He continued backing, his whole delicate body a tremble.
"Proceed no farther,” called a low voice, and a moment later
a tall figure clad wholly in spotless white stepped forth from
behind a small grove of palm trees. Heber observed on the
instant that he was almost directly before his father's residence.
He continued his efforts to calm his steed but the frightened
animal saw something uncanny in the white vision and settled
back upon his haunches, trembling in every limb. Heber
grasped his master's battle-axe, which hung in its accustomed
place upon the saddle, raised his arm aloft and in another
moment would have hurled the weapon at the mysterious figure
before him; but in that moment he saw a long white arm
upraised and heard a familiar voice exclaim: “Heber, son of
Nehum, it is Tirmar whom thou wouldst slay.”
The young man's arm dropped to his side, and he settled
back into his saddle.
"Tell me," continued the figure, "what business brings thee
here at this hour of night.”
“I am bound on an errand for the king," answered Heber.
"Traitor!” exclaimed the figure. “Thou, a Jew, carrying
messages for the oppressor of thy people.”
“I do it at my master's order;" he replied.
“Thy master, indeed! A freeborn Jew of princely blood
acknowledging a Babylonian his master!"
“Reproach me not, Tirmar. Thou knowest I bound myself
to him because he took me in when I was homeless and thou
also knowest what drove me from my father's house." .
"Coward!" she exclaimed sneeringly, “blame everything upon
a woman, of course. I did not tell thee to slay the man and
thou knowest it.”
"No Tirmar, but thou knowest full well it was my former
love for thee that drove me to it."
“Former love?" she cried, her fierce sarcasm breaking down
before that attack, an attack no woman could withstand.
"Yea, former love!” cried the youth passionately. "Thou
ome from my tablame everything and


RHESA
.
knowest Tirmar, I renounced thee and I have long since put
away the love I once bore thee.”
"Oh, Heber," she cried, “I little expected to hear such words
from thee. Thou, for whom at this moment I would lay down
my life. Yea, Heber, I would lay down upon this road and
let thee ride over me with thy fiery steed, but that I now live
for Judah and not for myself."
“For Judah ?” he asked.
"For my people,” she continued.
“Tell me thy meaning."
"I will and thou comest down from thy horse's back."
Heber dismounted and approached her. At that moment
two men came suddenly out from the clump of palms and
before the astonished youth could offer resistance his arms were
tied behind his back. One of the men held him by the arm
while the second laid hold of Saru's bridle.
"Tirmar, thou traitress, thou hast ruined me," cried Heber.
The tall Jewess made no reply but led the way through the
grove and through a field of waving wheat to a small brick
building in the center of the field. The horse was led around
to the rear of the building and tied to a dead tree while Heber,
still bound, was conducted to the door of the house. Tirmar
gave two quick and three slow raps upon the door with a heavy
stick she carried. The door instantly opened a trifle and a
voice inquired in a whisper: "Who comes ?”
"Open to Tirmar," was the answer.
The door was opened and the party entered the building.
The apartment in which they stopped was entirely dark but
Heber judged it to contain several persons, from the faint
rustle of garments and suppressed breathing. After the door
had been closed and securely fastened someone moved across
the floor and in a moment the room became light. Heber gave
a quick glance about the room and discovered a considerable
company of Jews, many of them known to him.
* "Whom have we here?” asked an old man, whose position
on a raised dais denoted him the leader of the company.


44
RHESA
upon him admiringly; all listened expectantly for his answer.
Moments sped by and still he stood speechless, absently staring
ahead of him. Finally he raised his eyes and made answer.
"O noble Josedek, and brethren of Judah. I am unable
to answer so great a question on the moment. I must have
time to consider well so important a step,” he said. "I- "
Heber's reply was interrupted by a loud knock on the out-
side door. One of the company placed an inverted jar over
the lamp and the room was again dark. Another tiptoed to
the door and opened it slightly.
"Who comes here?” he asked.
"I would speak with one Josedek whom I am told resides
here," answered a deep bass voice.
“Conduct him hither," commanded the high priest.
The man who had opened the door took the stranger by the
arm and led him into the darkened room.
“Thou desirest to speak with me?" questioned Josedek.
“I desire to speak with one Josedek," repeated the newcomer.
“I am that man," replied the high priest.
“I have a pass that will make me known unto thee,” said
the stranger.
Josedek arose, stepped down from the dais and approached
the man's side. The latter whispered a few words in the
high priest's ear. Josedek returned to his station and one of
the company removed the jar that obscured the light. The
assembled company now beheld a short, stocky man dressed as
a Hebrew merchant. Heber noted with surprise the well-known
features of Rastagus the Mede.
"My friend,” said Josedek, “thou canst now state thine errand
without fear.”
“Know then, good Josedek and men of Judah," began the
stranger, “I am Rastagus, a Mede. I come as a messenger
from Cyrus, king of Anshan, Media and Persia, Conqueror
of the World. Listen while I deliver unto thee the message
from the great king. No writing do I carry. Such a message
as mine can only be intrusted to the human mind which no


HEBER'S MIDNIGHT RIDE
man can read. Some thirty nights ago the king lay sleeping
upon his royal couch. As he slept he dreamed and this is
what the gods revealed unto him.
"Behold, as his eyes were closed in sleep there appeared before
them a wondrous picture such as never man painted. The
scene was one of desolation. Vast heaps of ruins lay scattered
all about. Some great city had fallen. In the foreground lay
the ruins of a magnificent building, the like of which is not to
be found in Media or Babylon. Great blocks of marble lay
scattered all about; some broken into pieces, others merely
chipped and still others unbroken, square as when the quarry-
man finished his work.
“As the king lay gazing upon the wonderful scene it van-
ished and in its place there stood a great city, Babylon, encom-
passed by its mammoth walls. The great brazen gates were
closed; but, as the sleeping king gazed upon them, they slowly
opened of their own accord.
“He gazed toward Heaven and saw hanging over the city
a small black cloud. Out of this cloud there came a voice as
of thunder. Here is the message the God of Heaven gave
unto the king:
“ 'Cyrus, king of Media and Persia, I have raised thee above
all men. I have given thee mastery over the nations of the
world. Not for thine own glory have I done this but for the
furtherance of mine own plans. Listen now while I explain
to thee the meaning of the pictures thou hast seen. The fallen
city was My Holy City, Jerusalem, and the great building thou
sawest in ruins was My temple, My dwelling-place. I raised
up the Chaldeans, that bitter and hasty nation, who marched
through My holy places and cast them down. My people,
Israel, I delivered into their hands to be their servants and
slaves. Lo, I hear the voice of My people calling unto Me
out of a strange land. They are repentant and beseech Me
to send them back to their own land.
“Now, therefore, Cyrus, hear Me. Take thou thine armies,
thy horsemen, thy spearmen, thy chariots and march upon that


RHESA
great city, even Babylon. I will give the city into thy hands;
without a blow shalt thou take it. I will deliver the king and
the people into thy hands to be thy slaves.
“ 'Thou shalt restore My people to their homes. Thou
shalt send with them soldiers to protect them upon the march.
Thou shalt give them tools, trowels and bars and hammers
shalt thou give them; that My city and My temple may be
rebuilt. The gold and silver vessels of My house which Nebu-
chadnezzar the king carried away thou shalt return unto My
people. Thou hast heard the message: Obey!'
"Since that night the king has been meditating upon the
message and when thy messenger arrived a few days later he
hailed him as one sent from Heaven. This answer King Cyrus
sends unto thee. He cannot come this year. Before his armies
could get here winter would be upon us; but when the spring
comes watch thou for him and his mighty army."
“Thine answer is received,” said Josedek as the envoy fin-
ished speaking.
"The night is now far spent, brethren," he continued. “De-
part to thy homes and meet again tonight at the usual hour.
Thou, noble Rastagus, I beg to be my guest for the remainder
of thy stay here."
One by one the company left the room, Heber among the
first. The young man's mind was troubled as he thought of
the king's undelivered message. The first streak of dawn was
visible in the eastern sky as he emerged from the wheatfield
leading Saru by the bridle.
The sun was two hours high when he galloped through the
gateway of the palace at Borsippa and a moment later handed
the tablet to Belibus. The lieutenant read the message and
then, fixing his gaze upon Heber's face, he said sternly:
“This message is dated the eighth day of Tammuz. Today
is the ninth. Hast thou been since before midnight in covering
so short a distance and mounted upon the fleetest horse in
Babylon?"


HEBER'S DECISION
47
The young Jew hung his head as he answered: "I was de-
tained upon the road.”
“This must be inquired into," said Belibus. “Soldiers, hold
this man.”
CHAPTER V
HEBER'S DECISION
Nabomuran was astir early the following morning, the ninth
day of Tammuz. But one day intervened before the corona
tion day of Belshazzar and the soldier was to be marshal of the
vast military pageant that would accompany the youthful prince
from the palace to the temple. There was much to demand his
attention during this day and an early start was essential to the
success of his many duties.
Notwithstanding his early start, the wine shops in the market
place were already doing a thriving business. Before one of
the most pretentious shops, kept by an old Jew named Makeil,
a small group of gay youths were standing, idly gossiping and
discussing such persons passing the shop as were known to them.
"Ha," said one, Belesis by name, "who is this I see coming?
Methinks the form is that of Nabomuran the soldier.”
The eyes of the group turned upon the officer in a concen-
trated stare, impertinent but not devoid of friendliness.
“Thou art right,” said a second.
"Where has he been these many months?” asked the third
member of the group. "To Judea, the land of the Hebrews.
The king thinking the sight of so splendid a body of troops
as the Winged Lions might have a wholesome effect upon the
people remaining in that country, sent them thither. They
have been away now something over five months," answered
another of the group, Iddin, son of the rab mag Vulmaran.
"We must give our old friend a royal welcome," said the
last member of the group.
away now Iddin, soiend a royal


RHESA
By this time Nabomuran's chariot was directly in front of the
wine shop. Iddin hailed him and the soldier ordered his driver
to stop.
"Come, Sir soldier," said Iddin, "allow us to welcome thee
back to Babylon with a friendly cup."
"One cup only must it be then, Iddin. I have much on my
mind this morning. Thou knowest I have a part to play to-
morrow.”
“Ah, yes,” said Iddin, “tomorrow we shall have two kings.
When Sheshbazzar appears to claim the throne we shall have
three."
The other young men now stepped forward.
“Friend Nabomuran, we are pleased to see thee among us
once more. Thine absence has seemed long to thy friends,"
said Belesis as if speaking for all.
"Come now for the one cup," said Iddin, after the others
had greeted the soldier in turn.
The company passed into the wine shop and the old Jew
hastened to place before them a flagon of wine and six silver
goblets. Iddin arose, cup in hand and offered a pledge.
"To Bel, our master; to Nabonidos, our king; and to Nabo-
muran, our captain ; Babylon's great trio.”
All present drank the toast with gusto. Nabomuran, con-
trary to his remark concerning one cup, ordered a second round
and rising as Iddin had, offered a pledge in return.
"To Babylon, our mistress; to Nitocris, our queen, and to
all our black-eyed maidens.”
· The cups emptied, he handed the old Jew a bar of silver in
payment, bade the young idlers farewell and reentered his
chariot.
The gates of the palace were wide open at this hour and
the chariot rolled through, straight to the main entrance. A
servant at the porch received the captain's name and carried it
to the king. Word was quickly returned bidding him enter at
once. He found the king alone and pacing up and down the


HEBER'S DECISION
49
room in great impatience. As soon as Nabomuran entered the
monarch turned to him in anger.
"I wonder sir, at thy venturing into our presence this morn-
ing after having failed to carry out our orders,” cried the king.
“What orders have I failed to carry out?" asked the soldier,
astonished at his sovereign's ire.
"Where are the Winged Lions?”
"Safe in the old palace by this time.”
“Hast thou been there to see?"
“Nay sir, I came directly here."
“Know then, Nabomuran, they have not arrived. There is
treachery somewhere. I am the unhappiest of kings. I have
not a man upon whom I can lean, upon whom I can depend
to carry out my orders.” .
"Some harm must have befallen my messenger, sir," said
the soldier, genuinely worried for Heber's safety.
"Whom sentest thou ?”
"My Jewish servant, Heber," was the reply.
“A Jew!” cried the monarch angrily, “thou entrustedst a mes-
sage of thy king's to a Jewish servant? I gave thee credit for
better judgment, Nabomuran.”
“The young man has always proven trustworthy before, sir,
and I sent him having full confidence in his devotion.”
"Perhaps I blamed thee wrongfully, but I am worried this
morning. This Sheshbazzar matter has arisen to vex me and
now come rumors of dissatisfaction among the soldiers. If my
army desert me for this lost prince I am ruined. Nabomuran
why am I hated by the people?"
"I know not, sir," replied the soldier.
"A courtier like Vulmaran would have told me I was not
hated but loved; however, Nabomuran I admire thy truthful-
ness. Even if thou hadst given me a courtier's answer I would
yet have known the truth. Tell me, how can I gain the love of
my people?” The king was plainly distressed.
"That, sir, is a question I am unable to answer.” Nabo-
muran might have suggested some ways in which the king could


50
RHESA
relieve the burdens of his subjects, but he dared not trust the
present mood too far.
"They misunderstand me,” continued the king. “I strive to
please them but my every effort is returned to me charged with
hate. This farce we enact tomorrow is but to win the regard
of the masses. I realize as well as thou, Nabomuran, how poor
a king my son will make. He is my son and I love him as a
father should, but I would the gods had endowed him with
some of the qualities thou dost possess.”
Nabomuran was silent, not knowing how to converse with
the king in his present mood.
“I sometimes wish this Sheshbazzar would appear and claim
my throne. I should then have something to live for; some
object to attain. In seeking to bring about his defeat I might
forget my personal unhappiness. Still there would be the risk
of his being successful and unhappy king though I am, I yet
desire to retain my throne.”
"Is there not a likelihood of there being plenty of action in
the near future? I am told we may expect a conflict with
the Persians at any time. They are reputed to be wonderful
soldiers and Cyrus is called a great general. I fear we will
be hard pushed to defeat them,” ventured the soldier.
"They may be all popular rumor makes them; but they
cannot scale nor breach our walls. My ten years of work,
building walls and digging canals is now at an end and they
can come when they like. I allow myself no worry on account
of the Persians. Enough of this, however. Forget my weak-
ness, Nabomuran, but at times it eases my feelings to reveal
them to someone I can trust. Go now and find thy men. Set
them to their task of patrolling the streets as soon as they
arrive."
An hour later Nabomuran reentered the king's presence and
informed the monarch of his command's safe arrival. He had
not questioned Heber but promised the king he would do so
at once. Nabonidos then gave him some information (brought
in by spies during the soldier's absence) concerning Heber's de-


HEBER'S DECISION
51
lay, and with this hint Nabomuran felt himself able to lecture
Heber intelligently.
After receiving instructions on the formation of the great
parade of the morrow, he left the king's palace and was driven
directly to the older building upon the opposite bank of the
river now his headquarters.
He passed hurriedly through the halls of the old palace,
going directly to the large central room he always used as his
office when in the city. As soon as he was seated a servant
was sent to find Belibus. The lieutenant came presently and
seated himself near his superior.
“About this delay in reaching here this morning, Belibus. At
what time did Heber reach Borsippa?”
“The sun was more than two hours high,” replied Belibus.
“And Heber left my father's house nearly an hour before
midnight. Did he offer any explanation?”
“None, sir."
“Can it be that Heber purposely delayed delivering my
message?”
"I questioned him sir, but received no answer save that he
had been delayed on the road. A visit to his lady may have
been the cause. The black eyes of the Jewish maidens are
enough to hinder the most trusty messenger in the king's ser-
vice,” said Belibus.
Nabomuran smiled, but did not contradict his lieutenant's
assertion. Had not one pair of black eyes burned themselves
into his very soul?
"I cannot allow this incident to pass without reprimanding
Heber. Had the king's fears been well grounded disaster might
have followed this neglect. Send the young man hither, Belibus,
and post a guard at the door that we may not be interrupted,"
he said.
A few moments later the young Jew entered the room. With
bowed head and sullen air he approached his master, his whole
appearance that of a schoolboy going to receive his birching.
Nabomuran arose and stood waiting for the servant, who was


52
RHESA
also his friend, to reach him. The commander's face was stern,
yet not hard. More of sadness than of anger was in his mind.
The words he was about to speak were dictated by his sense of
duty and came not from the heart.
"Heber," he began in a stern low voice, “I have loved thee as
a brother. I have bestowed upon thee all the benefits within
my power. I have trusted thee with mine own secrets. Nothing
in my life has been hidden from thee. Thou art the only man
in the world who has ever been my confidant. Yet Heber,
what return hast thou made unto me? The first important
work I have entrusted unto thee thou hast performed carelessly;
I will not say treacherously, though the king so considers it. By
thy act thou hast nearly destroyed my prestige with my king. I
cannot let this pass unnoticed, Heber. I have orders to turn
thee over to the king to be tried under serious charges, but for
reasons unknown to thee I am going to risk the king's disfavor.
Before I settle this matter, Heber, tell me: Canst thou offer an
excuse for thy conduct ?”
Heber was silent, his head bowed. What could he say? No
excuse presented itself to his mind. Besides he had always been
truthful and could not now change the principles of a lifetime;
but he could not tell the truth.
“Master," he said finally, “I can tell thee nothing."
"Ah, Heber," said Nabomuran sadly, “I fear I have been
disappointed in thee.”
"Oh my master!” cried Heber, "if thou only knew!"
"Heber, I do know. Last night, while carrying a message.
for the king, thou wast stopped by a woman and conducted to
the house of one Josedek in the center of a wheatfield. What
took place there my informant knows not, but it was nearly
daybreak when at last thou started to do the king's errand.
Heber, I can forgive thee, but the king never will. His spies
saw thee last night and he it was communicated this story to me.
My influence with Nabonidos is great, but I fear for thy safety.
Go, therefore, and seek a home among thy people to the south


A SOLDIER'S LOVE
53
and there remain until the king's anger shall have abated.
Remember, Heber; stay not in Babylon. Now go, and may
thy God go with thee."
With mingled feelings of anger and humiliation, the young
Jew left his master's presence. He was angry with Nabomuran
for his words of reproof, and humiliated that Nabonidos had
received news of the conspiracy he was asked to lead, though in
truth the monarch knew next to nothing. Both Nabonidos and
Nabomuran believed Heber to have been engaged in an amatory
adventure. At the moment Heber left the room, the decision
to cast in his lot with his rebellious countrymen was made.
CHAPTER VI
A SOLDIER'S LOVE
The remainder of the day passed quickly to Nabomuran. He
spent the time at his headquarters and was busy every moment.
One by one the leaders of the arriving bands of soldiery reported
to him, were assigned to their camping places and received in-
structions as to the part they were to take in the morrow's
pageant. Late in the afternoon he found a few moments of
leisure and retired to an inner apartment, opening off from his
official room, to obtain a short rest. Earlier in the day he had
sent servants to his home for such clothing and other baggage
as he would need during his stay in the old palace, for he had
decided to make his home with his men as long as the king
feared danger.
Shortly after he lay down a servant called him, saying that a
messenger awaited in the outer room to hand him a communica-
tion. The soldier arose hastily, threw a coat over his shoulders
and went out into the large room. A Jew was the messenger,
and this is the message he bore:


54
RHESA
Nehum, to Nabomuran, Captain of the Guard:
Greeting:-
May the Lord bless thee and keep thee in all thy ways.
At the house of thy servant this night, a few men of Judah
are to be gathered. I should feel myself greatly honored if
thou couldst add to our meeting by thy presence.
Nehum.
Below was added another message, evidently written by the
same hand.
Accept my father's invitation. I wish to speak with thee.
Orma.
“Inform thy master he may expect me. Convey to him my
thanks for his kind invitation," said Nabomuran.
The servant bowed and left the apartment. After his de-
parture, Nabomuran returned to his private room and again lay
down upon the couch. He made no attempt to find sleep but
lay quietly upon his back, his arms crossed above his head and
his brain active.
As he lay thus, thoughts of the Jewess came into his mind.
Indeed they had been there continually since the two days passed
in her presence, but as long as the king's business required his
attention, he had kept them from diverting his mind from the
work in hand. Now that he was for the moment free from
duty, he lay back in ease and allowed blissful thoughts to roam
at will through the fair gardens of his mind. If he shut his
eyes for a moment, the white clad figure of Orma fitted before
them; when his eyes were opened she was still present. He
allowed his imagination full play, and it afforded him pleasure
to dream of the only woman who had ever occupied his thoughts.
Up to this moment he had not realized the place the dark-eyed
Jewess had made for herself in his heart and mind.
Bred in a womanless home, the very name of his mother un-
known to him; his early youth and manhood spent amid the


A SOLDIER'S LOVE
55
stern conditions of army life, little had the gentler sex entered
into his thoughts. Not even the intrigues of his brother nobles
and officers had held a place in his life. From boyhood he had
lived purely, his virtue as unspotted as that of the Jewess her-
self. He lived a shining example of the truth that a man can
live a pure life without thereby being the less a man.
From the moment when during the storm on the desert, the
removal of the cloak from about Orma's head, had revealed to
him her beautiful, refined features, a new influence began to
work upon the lonely man of war. Heretofore such love as
his heart contained was bestowed upon his father, the old priest,
upon his country or his horse. Indeed, had he confessed the
truth, it was probable that his affection for Saru would have
been found to equal the others; excepting that in times of peril
his love for Babylon was fanned into a brilliant flame which
illuminated his whole being. Now he felt himself passing
through a period of reconstruction. His every sense seemed
expanding and he realized for the first time how bare his life
had been, despite the honors received at the hands of his only
mistress, Babylon.
Suddenly he became conscious of the flight of time. He
sprang from the couch and hurried out into the large apartment.
Two servants were lounging in the room. One he dispatched
to the kitchen after his supper; the other he sent to the stables
with a message for Susa the charioteer. During their absence
he attired himself for the evening visit. Every portion of his
dress of a military aspect was removed, and in its place he
donned a simple, long white robe which hung from his shoulders
and reached to his ankles, a style of garment only lately come
into vogue among the Babylonians. His only indication of
rank was a broad silken collar, richly embroidered, worn about
his neck and over the robe. This was his official insignia as
commander of the Winged Lions, an organization which com-
bined a secret brotherhood with a military order.
The light supper disposed of, the soldier entered his chariot
which awaited him at the palace entrance. From the old palace


56
RHESA
to the residence of Nehum was a pleasant ride this cool summer
evening. It was moreover a continual ovation for the soldier.
His return to the city had been so recent that few among the
masses had seen him or even heard of his being once more among
them. The Borsipian road, inside the inner wall, was crowded
with pedestrians, many of them soldiers accompanied by their
fair ones—the latter rejoicing over their lovers' return-for
from all parts of the empire bands of soldiery had come to
assist in the celebration of Belshazzar's coronation. The city
over everyone was given up to pleasure, save only the stately
and dignified troopers of the Winged Lions, who slowly rode
back and forth, one man on each of Babylon's fifty avenues.
Susa, at a signal from his master, stopped at the residence
of Nehum. “I shall be within for some time. Drive up and
down the road until I wish to return. Make thy trips short
and do not lose sight of this house," said Nabomuran after he
had alighted.
Susa bowed in silent acknowledgment of his orders. Nabo-
muran turned and walked rapidly up the pathway leading to
Nehum's residence. He knocked loudly upon the jamb with
his cane and in response to his summons Nehum himself came
and gave his guest the heartiest of welcomes. The old man led
the way down a long bare hall to a large room at the farther
end. Here the soldier was presented to a dozen aged Jews,
whose white locks and silvery beards betokened them patriarchs
among their people. With hearty sincerity, coupled with quiet
dignity, the soldier greeted each man as his name was called.
At the name of the last member of the little assembly, he showed
signs of surprise.
“The name of Daniel is not unknown to me,” he said.
"Nor to me," replied the venerable prophet, “is Neboakhu's
son a stranger.”
“Thou knowest my father?”
“Ay, young man, thy father and I are old acquaintances.
We were once both called in to interpret a dream for the old
king and from that day we have been friends, though long
dignite their pocks and was pra


A SOLDIER'S LOVE
57
have I talked with him concerning the falseness of his worship,"
answered Daniel.
“Each man, noble sir, remains true to the faith he was born
in," said the young man with some dignity.
“The errors of birth, my son, can be changed by every man,”
said the prophet smiling.
Nabomuran was too well bred to introduce an argument at
such a time, especially upon the one subject which cannot be
discussed without causing feeling. He therefore made no reply
to Daniel's last speech, but accepted the seat Nehum offered
him. He soon decided in his own mind that he had been in-
vited here to listen to speeches setting forth the glories of the
Hebrew religion; at least the conversation hinged upon that
topic. If such had been Nehum's object he gave no indication
of it, as he took little part in the conversation. Soon the topic
changed to that of the expected deliverance of the Jews from
captivity, and the prince became interested. He had already
discussed this subject with Heber and knew of the hope held
by the Jews. However, he was surprised when Daniel an-
nounced that it was foretold that their deliverance should come
through a king named Cyrus. The news gave pain to the patri-
otic soldier, and for the first time he feared that calamity which
was in store for his country.
When an opportune moment came he arose and made known
his intention of departing, urging as his excuse his arduous duties
of the morrow. As Nehum conducted him through the hall
he found words to frame an inquiry that had been upon his
tongue's end a dozen times.
"May I not have the pleasure of a word with thy daughter?”.
he asked.
The old man looked at him sharply for an instant before
replying.
“Thou wilt find her in the garden, sir,” he said finally.
“Here, Ruth, show this good man to thy mistress's bower,"
he called a moment later as he saw a little maid glide by before
the house.


RHESA
At the doorway Nehum grasped both his guest's hands and
bade him an effusive farewell. The soldier followed the serv-
ing maid and the old man returned to his other guests.
The maiden led Nabomuran through a verdure-bordered path
to a small rustic building in the center of the garden behind
the house. She pointed out the bower and withdrew, leaving
the soldier standing alone in the brilliant moonlight. He hesi-
tated a moment, his eyes following the retreating form of little
Ruth, vainly hoping that she would return and free him from
entering yonder bower alone and unannounced. He watched
until she had disappeared around the house, and then realized
that he stood alone with the woman whom, he at last admitted
to himself, he loved. He was irresolute, hardly daring to enter.
At length, mustering the required courage, he stepped for-
ward and slowly pushed aside the luxuriant vines that screened
the entrance to the bower. He stepped softly in. Upon a
couch in the farther corner, made of palm wood and plaited
rushes, reclined Orma. As the soldier entered she arose and
advanced to meet him. Never had human being looked so beau-
tiful to him. She was clad in a simple white robe that com-
pletely covered her form from throat to ankle, in sharp contrast
to the robes of Babylonian women which hung from one shoul-
der, leaving bare the arms and breast. Her glossy black hair
hung down her back, a wavy cloud that enhanced the soft
lines of her beautiful face.
As she reached him she held out one tiny hand in welcome.
Almost involuntarily the Babylonian dropped upon one knee
and raised the hand to his lips. She hastily withdrew it and
he arose, imagining he had given offence, but when she spoke
he was reassured.
“Come,” she said in a low sweet voice, "be seated. I have
much to say to thee."
She returned to the rush divan, and he drew a small stool up
beside her.
"It is of my brother I would speak,” she began. "He was
here this morning and though he would tell me nothing I mis-


A SOLDIER'S LOVE
59
trust a quarrel has taken place between thee and him. Tell
me sir, I beg thee, all that has occurred. I must know.”
Feeling himself under obligation to tell her, the soldier obeyed
and related in a few words the occurrences of the previous
night, closing with an account of the morning's interview with
Heber.
"Tirmar again," said the girl as if speaking to herself.
"Thou must use thine influence with Heber to have him
leave the city as I bade him," said Nabomuran.
“Alas, sir,” she answered, “my influence will have little
weight against Tirmar's.”
"Surely Heber could not refuse his sister's request ?”
"That depends sir, upon Tirmar's wishes. Should she de-
sire Heber to remain here nothing I can say will move him. A
sister's influence can never cope with a man's love for the woman
of his heart.”
"However," said the soldier, "he must not remain here. I
ran considerable risk in not turning him over to the king and
I cannot be still further endangered by his remaining here to
be taken by the king's spies.”
Nothing more was said for several moments, delicious mo-
ments for Nabomuran as he sat looking into the face of her
he loved. As he sat there the thought came into his mind of
how short a time he had known her but he did not marvel
that those three days had brought love. At that moment it
seemed to him as if they had been created for each other, had
been gradually drawing near to one another until now was
the supreme time. To his imagination it seemed as if she sat
merely waiting for him to speak. In that moment came the
decision to tell her of his love, though his sober sense told him
it was too soon to thus declare himself. He leaned forward
and, looking into her face, poured out his love. Orma, scarcely
realizing his intentions, allowed him to finish, but in a moment
she regretted it.
"Fair lady,” he began, “I am a soldier. My life has been
spent in the service of the king. When a small child I was


60
RHESA
me not aside women. The gathering pla
given to an officer to be trained in my duties, and from that
day I have lived a soldier's life, a life of hardship and discipline.
No thoughts of love or poetry have ennobled my soul. No
woman has ever held a place in my life to soften my nature.
“When first I saw thee my heart underwent a change. From
the first moment I found it pleasant to be near thee. In some
manner, I cannot name it, thou art different from the women
of mine own race. What no one of them could have done thou
hast. Thou hast won my heart. Take a soldier's heart, sweet
woman, and in its place thine own return. Smile on me and
my soul is exalted. Wilt thou share a soldier's life and make
it full of love and happiness ?
“I have rank and wealth. Thou shalt be one of the foremost
women of our land. Thy house shall be the gathering place
of mighty men and beautiful women. The city shall be at
thy feet. O, turn me not aside. Accept the love I offer and
consent to share my hardships and my days of plenty, my sor-
rows and my joys, my trials and my honors.”
The countenance of the Jewess underwent a change as the
soldier poured forth his vehement words of love. At first she
gazed upon him in admiration. She glanced at his pure and
noble face, his erect manly form, his princely mien and in her
heart a wave of love seemed rising to be poured forth upon
the pleader; but, when he spoke of honors, thoughts of racial
differences filled her mind. The Jewess would be despised,
even though a noble's wife, and he, unable to lift her to his
position, would himself be dragged down to hers and his love
prove his ruin. Religion asserted itself. She thought of the
man before her as a worshiper of stone images, his very name
the monument of a false god. . The fire of love, slowly fanned
to a blaze by his eloquent appeal, now faded, drenched in the
icy waters her mind gathered together. Yet she acknowledged
she could love this man and when a woman acknowledges that
to herself, the love is not far distant. She began her reply
slowly and reluctantly.
"Noble sir," she said, “I esteem thee above all thy race; I
ect manly fon. She glance love. At fi


A SOLDIER'S LOVE
61
e
could love thee were that love worthy to give; but, think sir, I
i am a Jewess. Were I to wed with thee, thy honors would
in quickly tarnish. Thy people would never honor the husband
of a Jewess. I am a captive. Were not my father a prince
Fast of Judah I should be a slave as many women of my race are.
In my own land I would be thy equal but here I am thought
unworthy to speak to thee. Think sir, of this and ask thy
heart if it can make t'ie sacrifice.”
She said nothing of religious differences for fear he might
resent any such reference. Nabomuran sat silent for several
moments after she had finished speaking. Dimly it came over
him that these fair words formed a refusal. He was inclined
comit to speak more but now too late came the consciousness that he
had spoken too soon. He told himself he should have waited
a more respectable length of time. How could he expect to
win her love in three days? In a moment, therefore, he de-
cided to press her no further at this time.
"I accept this doom, if doom it is," he said quietly, “but re-
member my love is thine forever and I shall live in hope of
someday winning thine in return."
He dropped suddenly upon one knee and grasping her hand
in imprinted a lingering kiss thereon, before she could withdraw
in it. He turned to go, but at the bower's entrance he stopped
and, with a graceful gesture, said:
“Farewell my love. Whenever thou lettest thyself think on
me let thy thoughts be kind ones. Again farewell.”
ch. "May the Almighty go with thee!” she cried.
He left her. As he stepped out onto the Borsipian road,
he felt a heavy hand upon his shoulder and in another instant
a ruffian had his hand upon the young man's throat. His arms
were pinioned, his ankles bound, and before he could cry out
or offer the least resistance, he was thrown upon the shoulders
of his assailants and carried away.
He left heavy hand upon the you
AIR


RHESA
CHAPTER VII
THE FIRST BLOW FOR ZION
With slow step and sullen air, Heber left the presence of
his master at the close of their interview. Discordant feelings,
love and hate arraigned, did battle within his breast. All love
for the noble soldier who had taken him, an outcast, procured
his pardon from the king and raised him to a position of equality
with himself, could not be stifled in a moment. Even at this
moment, when his will strove to overcome his love, his mind
persisted in painting before his eyes scenes whose remembrance
forbade feelings of hate to arise. Yet with a steadfast deter-
mination to cast his lot with his rebellious countrymen, he strove
to conquer all feelings of love or kindness for his former master.
Gradually by forcing his mind away from unwelcome recol-
lections of past kindnesses, the young Jew worked himself into
the desired frame of mind. By the time he passed the inner
wall and found himself traversing the Borsipian road he was
sufficiently angry with his former benefactor to enable him to
take up arms against him without compunction. Heber real-
ized only too well that his acceptance of the proffered leader-
ship involved a personal warfare against the kind soldier.
His present destination was his father's house. He thought
of this as a safe refuge where he could make his headquarters
and go and come as he saw fit without fear of detection. Mis-
taken youth, thou art a marked man. At this instant a young
Greek, the most trusted assistant of Ulbar, chief spy of Babylon,
was sauntering slowly along in Heber's wake. It was not until
the young Jew turned into the path leading to his father's abode
that the Greek, considering his walk to have led him far enough
in that direcțion, slipped into a clump of bushes to await Heber's
further action.
Heber passed around the house, through the garden, re-
splendent with gay blossoms whose fragrance filled the air, and


THE FIRST BLOW FOR ZION
63
made his way straight towards the bower regarded in that
household as Orma's exclusive retreat. Here he found the
fairest flower in all the garden, his sister. She sat upon a low
stool, a long white robe in her lap. By her side sat the little
handmaiden, Ruth, who was her inseparable companion. She
was idle, watching the play of her mistress's busy needle.
The interview between brother and sister proved a trying one
for both. Orma's quick perception showed her that something
was wrong with her brother and she tried with all the loving
persuasion of a sister to win his confidence, but without avail.
He was sullen and silent, refusing alike to answer pointed ques-
tions and veiled requests. At length as a last resort, Orma
suddenly asked:
"Heber, hast thou seen Tirmar?”
"I have,” he answered defiantly.
"Oh, my brother!" she cried, "for my sake and the sake of
our dear father have nothing to do with that wild creature.
Thou knowest how nearly she ruined thy life. O Heber, as
thou lovest thy sister have nothing to do with her.”
As she spoke she burst into tears. Heber arose from the
couch and hastened across the bower to his sister's side. He
took her in his arms and endeavored to pacify her.
"Come, come, little sister. Fear nothing for me. I will do
nothing to cause thee pain.”
Orma looked up smiling through her tears as the sun breaks
through the dripping clouds after an August shower. She
placed her soft cheek against her brother's bearded one and
looking into his face she murmured softly: "Thank thee, darling
brother."
He held her in his arms for some moments and then gently
put her from him. Silence reigned for some few minutes after-
ward, Orma finally breaking it.
• "How fares it with thy master ?" she asked.
"Speak not to me of him!” exclaimed Heber.
"Why brother, what has happened ?" she asked in a surprised
tone.


RHESA
"Ask me nothing. He and I have parted; that is all. Now
farewell sister, I must leave thee,” he said hurriedly.
Without another word he abruptly left her; sad and troubled.
Throughout the remainder of the day her mind was filled with
anxiety for this brother whose weakness she knew. It was not
until afternoon when her father called her to indite a message
to Nabomuran that she decided to learn the truth concerning
Heber. Without reflection or thought of what might follow,
she appended her message to her father's.
Upon reaching the road Heber turned toward the outer wall
and walked slowly away in that direction. The young Greek
emerged from his hiding place, looked cautiously round him
and started trailing Heber. When Heber reached the group of
palm trees he stopped and looked about him. The Greek slipped
behind a tomb in time to avoid detection. Heber, satisfied that
he was alone, stepped into the path leading through the wheat-
field and walked rapidly toward the house of Josedek. The spy,
assured of the young man's destination, deemed further shadow-
ing unnecessary and strolled back toward the city.
Tirmar admitted Heber, but instead of conducting him to
the room used by the conspirators, she led the way upstairs to
a small apartment in the second story of the building. She
closed the door of the room behind them, and secured it with
a bronze hasp. Heber was astonished, not knowing what to
expect. Tirmar, motioning him to a seat, herself remained
standing by the door, her eyes fixed upon him. Her long gown
hung from her left shoulder leaving bare her rounded arms, her
high firm shoulders and one breast, while the robe fitted her so
closely the whole contour of her form could be imagined.
Tirmar was a strange but beautiful creature; the spirit of
a man in the body of a woman. In form and feature she was
a very goddess; a most beautiful woman, from the crown of her
shapely head covered with its long black tresses, to the sole of
her sandaled feet. The beauty of Orma was like the silver
radiance of the moon, which charms us with its quiet silvery
light, while this creature was like the dazzling sun of noon-


THE FIRST BLOW FOR ZION
65
tide. She was taller than the average man of her race, and built
in true proportions. Her shoulders were broad though of beau-
tiful contour, and her hips large. In both figure and bearing she
was an Amazon.
She stood silent and motionless, her full dark eyes fixed upon
Hobe strade silenha
Heber's face. They seemed to pierce him through and through.
His eyes fell. He dare not look up and even when his gaze
was fastened upon the floor at his feet, he seemed to feel their
influence and behind them he felt the iron will of the woman.
Before that will all his resolutions and promises vanished; he
was completely within her power. He looked up nervously.
She smiled; an entrancing, voluptuous smile.
“Heber,” she said, realizing her victory, "art thou with us.
Art thou willing to become thy people's leader; to rescue thy
kinsmen from bondage and lead them back to Mount Zion ?”
She paused expectantly. Heber sat with downcast eyes and
made no response.
"Think, Heber," she continued. “Think of the possibilities
before thee. Think of the honor and glory that awaits thee.
Think, Heber! Thou wilt be a second Moses to thy people.
In their gratitude they will make thee king. Think of that,
Heber; think of that. Thou a king and Tirmar thy queen!"
She paused again, and again she searched him with those
wonderful eyes. She felt herself the mistress of the situation,
but she was still unsatisfied. He must be completely within
her power. She made another appeal, this time humbling her-
self that her final victory should be the greater. She threw
herself at the young man's feet and clasping his knees with
her bare shapely arms, looked up into his face. Her great
round eyes were filled with tears and her voice trembled; such
was the intensity of her passion.
"Oh, my Heber !" she cried. “Turn not from me. Spurn
me not. I think only of thy welfare and of the welfare of
our people. It is because of my love for thee; that love no
language can describe. I plan for thee, am ambitious for thee.
Oh, think; think Heber! Decide at once! Say thou wilt lead


66
RHESA
thy people! Think! Heber son of Nehum, sitting upon the
throne of King David! Look not so sober, my loved one. Be
joyful! Smile! Speak; speak to me Heber!”.
The young man looked into the face of the beautiful creature
before him. He was changed. Her appeal had softened his
heart. He forgot the past, and thought only of the present.
All remembrance of his former master, and even of his sister,
was obliterated. He loved Tirmar! He would do as she de-
sired him. He threw his arms about her neck and implanted a
kiss, his first, upon her high white forehead. She smiled for
joy, a smile that lighted up her fine face and seemingly lifted
her to a higher spiritual level. Heber had never seen a being
more beautiful. She loved him! There was joy in the thought.
Movements were heard in the room below. Tirmar arose and
held out a hand to Heber.
“I will take the leadership,” he said.
“Come then,” she said, her face radiant. .
Side by side they descended the brick stairway to the floor
below and entered the apartment used as a meeting place by
the conspirators. A much larger company than the one of the
previous evening was gathered in the room. Josedek as before
was the leader of the assemblage.
As the pair entered all eyes turned towards them. Josedek
raised his huge shaggy eyebrows inquiringly at his daughter.
Tirmar's answer was a slight nod. No word was spoken, but
the high priest knew Heber had decided as they wished.
"Here friends," he called, “is the man chosen to lead us in
our struggle for liberty. Here is the man who will lead us to
victory over the hosts of proud Babylon; the man who will lead
us home to Zion.”
Heber was abashed for a moment, but for a moment only.
He raised his head and gazed upon his compatriots. A sudden
impulse seized the Jews as they looked upon their handsome
young leader. They arose and thronged about him. They
would have shouted but for the fear of making so great a noise.
One by one they greeted him and resumed their seats. When


68
RHESA
eternal fealty to the present government. Tonight they hate
their king for his oppressive taxation. Tomorrow night they
will love him for giving them a holiday. If we strike a blow
tonight and win even a slight success the people will rise and
help us. Therefore am I in favor of making a start tonight.”
His words struck a popular chord. Hot-headed as they
were, most of them were impatient to begin their career of
glory. It needed only a stalwart leader like Heber to fan
the flame into a conflagration.
Even cautious Josedek, wise with the wisdom age brings,
saw in Heber's words much to be commended. He knew full
well the fickleness of the Babylonian people; how soon the
memory of a dead monarch faded away before the intense
enthusiasm called forth by his successor. He knew how im-
pressionable they were and how the morrow's splendor would
affect their minds.
“Our brave leader is right,” said Josedek, breaking a short
silence.
"Zion or Death, this night we will smite the lion. We will
humble the pride of great Babylon," shouted Joram.
The signal knocks were heard upon the outside door and a
moment later a tall young Jew entered the room. By this time
it was evening and the light was burning. It was Addoni their
trusted scout. He it was who brought them information con-
cerning the actions of their prospective enemies.
"What news, friend ?” asked Josedek.
"The king has some suspicion of our actions and will doubt-
less take steps to thwart us. Tonight but few troops are within
the walls; by far the greater portion of those who have arrived
are encamped without the walls. If we are to strike at all, we
must strike at once, tonight. Some important point must be
taken.”
"Nabomuran, Captain of the Guard, is now at the residence
of Nehum on the Borsipian road. I would recommend, my
friends that he be taken prisoner, for a few days at least," said
the scout.
moment later a and the light was brought them in


THE FIRST BLOW FOR ZION
Josedek glanced at Heber. He arose.
“Come friends," he said, "who will accompany me to my
father's house and assist in the capture of this man?”
“I will,” said Tirmar.
“And I," said Joram.
“I” and “I” said several more.
Heber chose ten persons, including Tirmar and Joram; but
before they left upon their errand the matter of calling to-
gether their forces was discussed. At length it was decided
that Josedek should issue a proclamation calling upon all true
Jews to take up arms and assemble at the appointed gathering
place. Several copies of the writing were to be made and each
copy given to a trusty messenger who should go from man to
man and read the summons.
As soon as this matter was settled Heber and his chosen band
set out upon their errand. From the house in the wheatfield
to the residence of Nehum was a short walk. The party hid
themselves in the shrubbery before the house, there to await
the soldier's coming. Heber delegated five of the number to
watch for Nabomuran's chariot and take possession of it when
it came along. Joram the fire-eater was appointed to command
this band. Armed with clubs and spears, they passed along
the side of the great thoroughfare, keeping well in the shadow.
A trooper appeared, and all fell flat upon their faces until he
had passed. They then resumed their journey.
The low rumble of the approaching chariot was heard.
Joram waved his hand as a signal for his party to be quiet. He
whispered to one of his band, who darted across the road, gain-
ing the other side unseen. Nearer and nearer came the vehicle.
Susa held the reins loosely in one hand, paying little heed to
his walking horses. Possibly his mind was upon some maiden
far away among his native mountains.
Suddenly he felt the reins jerk in his hands. He turned
quickly, to see his horses thrown back upon their haunches.
With a low cry of fear he dropped the reins and sprang over
the side of the chariot, alighting squarely upon his feet. He


THE CONFLICT
71
eater achwe can het It w
expected. If an alarm is given and all the soldiers now within
the city come to oppose us, our cause is lost for we can not yet
cope against such numbers. I think our work for tonight
would best be the capture of the old palace upon this side of
the river. It is strong and large and can withstand a siege of
long duration. It overlooks the river and the drawbridge, and
commands the paths of communication between the two sides
of the river. Once within our possession, it will become a
fortress from which we can direct our future actions. With
such a stronghold in our possession we can depend upon men
flocking to our standard in numbers. Thus after a short time
we can undertake greater achievements. Piece by piece the city
shall become ours and then we can return to our native land.”
“What shall we do with Babylon? If we defeat the king
we will be masters of the city and must govern it some way,"
asked one of the council.
“There is living somewhere a man named Sheshbazzar who
is the rightful king of Babylon. I hope his cause shall be joined
to ours and when our combined forces have defeated the present
king, we will return to rule Judea and leave Babylon to Shesh-
bazzar," answered Heber. Then he continued the outline of
his plans.
"As is known to all,” he said, “there are but three points at
which the old palace can be attacked. They are the three
stairways leading up to the great mound upon which the palace
is built. One of these stairways faces the Borsipian road, the
second faces the Sippara road and the third gives upon the river
bank. I propose to divide our forces into three divisions, one
to attack each stairway. The force inside the palace numbers
fifty men, besides the servants. I propose taking three hundred
men, one hundred in each column. It would be dangerous to
take more, as we could never get through the inner wall with
a larger force. Then we will be six to one and the Winged
Lions are used only to fighting on horseback, never to my
knowledge having defended a fortress against an attacking force.


72
RHESA
se comman he askedne answerede division
Their leader also is not with them, a fact worth an hundred
men to us."
"Joram,” he continued, "thou art a boatman and shall there-
fore command the river column.
"Tirmar,” he asked, "shalt thou go with us?"
"Indeed I shall,” she answered.
“Then thou shalt command the division attacking the north-
ern stairway. I will lead the third column. We will ap-
proach the palace with the greatest caution. Have thy columns
arranged in single file and long drawn out. Do not allow any
resemblance of an attacking force to exist and above all, do not
let one of the Winged Lions see thee. There is but one man
on a street. Do not therefore venture upon a street or across
one until its guarding trooper shall have passed thee. When my
horn sounds three blasts we will all attack at once. Attack
suddenly and fiercely; all depends upon our being quick. Dost
thou understand ?”
"Perfectly,” answered Tirmar and the rest nodded.
Heber now sent a man outside to learn what force had gath-
ered in the wheatfield in answer to Josedek's proclamation.
The emissary returned shortly reporting a considerable force
in waiting
"As many as three hundred?” asked Heber.
“Yea and thrice three hundred," answered the man.
"It is well,” said the leader. “Are we ready for our attempt,
my friends?”
Tirmar left the room, returning shortly a transformed per-
son. Her long flowing hair was gathered upon her head and
was lost to sight in a capacious helmet of polished bronze. Her
long gown had given place to a short tunic that barely reached
to the knees. A pair of leather leggings covered her nether
limbs, save only a space of three inches that intervened between
the tops of the leggings and the fringe of the tunic, thus leaving
bare the knees. A broad leather belt about her waist supported
a long, bone-handled dagger. The customary Babylonian


74
RHESA
see. Our captain has not yet returned and it is past midnight.
What if some harm has befallen him?”
"I have no fears for Nabomuran," answered Belibus. “He
is probably worshiping at the feet of yon Jewess we rescued
on the desert.”
“Aha,” said Nergalshazzar, “so the wind blows in that direc-
tion? Our own women have never tempted the captain, but
thou thinkest the Jewess has won his well-guarded heart?"
"Perhaps not as bad as that, but it was evident he took a
liking to the girl. She is beautiful, one must admit. Still I
am surprised at the captain. Why, 'tis said he could wed roy-
alty, were his eyes only open.”
“What? Halista ?”
“So the ladies of the court have thought."
“Nay, impossible," said the trumpeter, who had his own de-
signs upon the king's beautiful niece.
“ 'Tis said she smiles upon our captain, but he seemeth proof
against her charms."
"He may be a great soldier, and indeed he is, but his eyes
are poor when he chooses the Jewess before the king's niece.
However he leaves to others the opportunity of winning her.”
"Nergalshazzar for instance ?” said Belibus..
"Why not? 'Twere better far she should wed a poor but
honorable soldier than a gay rake like Iddin the rab mag's son,
upon whom 'tis said Nabonidos would bestow her," replied the
trumpeter.
“Thou art right. Men like Iddin are unfit even to gaze upon
such a woman as Halista.”
“Methinks, Belibus, thou showest considerable warmth in
that remark.”
“Yes," answered Belibus, "I too have a liking for the fair
princess."
“I suspected as much, friend Belibus. It will then be a
race between us to see who wins her.”
“Thou art likely to be the winner. I am of too poor and


THE CONFLICT
75
unknown a family to dare even to look upon a princess,” said
Belibus sadly.
"Nay, nay, try it Belibus. Thy position is an honorable
one. Some day thou wilt be commander of the troop and the
king's trusty captain. Try it. Our zeal will be inspired if
there is rivalry between us.”
"Perhaps," was the answer, but the lieutenant shook his head
sadly.
"Hark! What is that?” exclaimed the trumpeter.
They listened.
"It is nothing but a boat crossing the river. Thou art un-
duly nervous tonight, Nergalshazzar," said Belibus.
"I may be, but Belibus, I feel a strange presentiment of
impending trouble," was the answer.
The sound of paddles was distinctly heard. A cry sounded
faintly. Then all was silent, save for the muffled splashing of
the paddles in the river.
“That boat is not crossing the river; it is ascending against
the current,” said the trumpeter. “Wait; I will go down to
the landing and see what it is.”
He ran down the broad steps, leaving Belibus standing above.
Nergalshazzar hurried along the brick quay until he came to
the next landing below the palace. Here he stepped inside
a doorway where he was completely hidden, and awaited the
coming of the craft whose presence on the river at this hour
had made him suspicious. The steady splash of the paddles as
they dipped into the river came nearer and nearer. Before the
boat was visible other paddles were heard. The trumpeter
hugged the dark wall and peered anxiously into the gloom. At
length the faint form of an approaching boat became distin-
guishable. One after another the outlines of the figures of
those in the boat became visible until the astonished soldier
saw before him ten armed men. One, apparently the leader,
stood in the prow eagerly scanning the landings as they passed
them.
Nergalshazzar's mind was filled with conflicting thoughts.


76
RHESA
What could this mean? The men in the boat he judged to be
Jews and what business had a company of armed Jews upon
the river at this hour? He deemed it time to report his dis-
covery; therefore he slowly crept from his hiding place. Keep-
ing well in the shadow of the high mound, he made his way
back to the palace landing. Belibus stood at the head of the
stairs awaiting his friend's return. The trumpeter ran up the
steps and in a few hurried sentences reported what he had
seen.
“Let us remain here and watch them,” said Belibus. .
The two soldiers remained standing beside the stairway peer-
ing out over the low rampart that encircled the mound. The
first boat was now below them and even in the darkness they
could make out the powerful form of Joram as he held up his
right arm. The paddlers ceased their efforts; the helmsman
gave a quick turn to the steering oar, and the prow of the
boat scraped against the brick landing. Joram sprang out and
held the boat firmly against the wall.
"They are landing here,” said Belibus.
“One after another the Jews disembarked and formed in
line at the foot of the stairs. The second boat arrived; its
occupants landed and formed behind their comrades. Then the
boat was pushed down stream by the man left in charge to
make room for the third. Thus boat after boat came up, dis-
charged its living cargo and dropped down to the next lower
landing where they waited in case a retreat should be necessary.
"It is time to call the men,” whispered Belibus. "Bid them
come in haste, but caution them to make no sound. I will
remain here and watch the movements of this strange company."
Nergalshazzar ran across the platform and entered the palace.
From room to room he flew, rousing the sleeping soldiers as
he went.
"Be silent,” he commanded as he led a party of fifty men
toward the stairs.
They walked slowly and noiselessly across the platform and


THE CONFLICT
77
formed a solid band behind their lieutenant. Nergalshazzar
carried two battle-axes, one of which he handed to Belibus.
"Wait until they reach the third step from the top. Then
charge fiercely but without a shout," was the command whis-
pered through the lines.
“We are undiscovered," whispered Joram after his com-
mand had landed and formed in ranks. “We will march nearly
to the top of the stairs and at the signal from our leader's horn
we will rush in and seize this side of the palace before the
soldiers are alarmed.”
They marched slowly up the steps, keeping in solid forma-
tion. Near the top they halted, each man grasping his weapon
firmly and only awaiting the signal to rush in. A moment only
they stood thus. Then it seemed as if an avalanche from a
mountain side had been hurled upon their heads as the solid
line of armed men rushed headlong upon them. Down, down,
down, went the Jews before the fierce onslaught of the Winged
Lions. The axes of the two leaders swung over the heads of
the unfortunate Hebrews descending now and then upon the
head of some luckless wretch. Cries of agony came from the
foot of the stairway where those in the rear ranks were being
trampled upon by their brethren retreating before the shining
blades of the Babylonian battle-axes.
The spears and clubs of the Jews were child's playthings
when pitted against the heavy weapons wielded by the iron
arms of the muscular young troopers. The broad steps were
slippery with Jewish blood as down toward the river the fierce
soldiers forced their unfortunate enemies. The rear ranks
broke and fled, leaving many of their comrades behind hope-
lessly wounded and trampled under foot.
"To the river,” shouted Joram, who fighting like a tiger was
slowly falling back, contesting every step with the valorous
Belibus. The words were his last. The shining blade of the
Babylonian officer descended upon the skull of the fierce Jew,
cleaving it in twain. He fell dead at the soldier's feet.
The death of Joram was the signal for a wild and indescrib-
Cleaving it in Tucer descended his last. Then wit


78
RHESA
ch the river swim. The Winge In the ex
able panic. A frenzy of fear seized upon the survivors and
they rushed, fell and stumbled down the steps in their mad
haste to reach the river. In they plunged, notwithstanding
that few of them could swim. The Winged Lions followed
them down the steps and on to the landing. In the excitement
of the moment reason left them; their fiery Chaldean blood
surged through their veins, making of them very demons. The
luckless Jews were slaughtered like sheep in a pen. No cries
of mercy were heeded; the commands of Belibus availed nothing,
and the death dealing battle-axes continued in their bloody
career.
Belibus and Nergalshazzar, at the risk of their own lives,
ran among the men commanding, imploring them to cease the
useless effusion of blood. At length their fury abated and one
by one they picked their way through the dead and wounded
to the top of the mound. They formed in line that the officers
might ascertain their losses. Mixed in among the dead Jews
were the bodies of two troopers, while several of the men who
lined up before Belibus had ghastly cuts.
They had hardly taken their places in line when, from the
southern stairway, sounded three trumpet blasts. A moment
later a servant came running to Belibus.
“Quick, sir!” he cried, “we are attacked at the other stair-
ways."
CHAPTER IX
MAN TO. MAN
Belibus hastily divided his band into two companies and sent
one to the northern stairways under command of Nergalshazzar,
while he led the other to the southern. The soldiers under
Belibus reached the head of the southern stairway just as the
Jews led by Heber gained the top. The Winged Lions charged
them but, wearied by their previous encounter, their charge
Previous en Winged Ljust as the


MAN TO MAN
79
lacked the needed impetuosity. The Jews stoutly held their
ground and the attack rolled off from them harmlessly. Not
an inch had the defenders gained. The battle became general;
blow upon blow was exchanged, the heavy axes of the Baby-
lonians crashing upon the palm wood spears and clubs of their
opponents. While the Jews were inferiorly armed their fresh-
ness and superior numbers more than compensated, making it
appear an equal contest. The Jews, though unable to gain the
level mound, held their original position at the head of the
stairs and the Winged Lions could not force them back down
the stairway.
At the very beginning of the fight Belibus singled out Heber
as his personal antagonist. Hatred of the young Jew for his
treachery against Nabomuran—the man who had done so much
for him-gave strength to the tired arm of Belibus. In arms
and equipment as well as in youth and strength, the two men
were about equal. But for the Babylonian's previous encounter
with Joram, and his attempts to control the fiery troopers after
the contest, his superior skill would have placed Heber at a
disadvantage.
Both men fought with axes of almost the same pattern, save
only that the handle of Heber's was a trifle the longer. For
ten or fifteen minutes they hacked and dodged and parried.
The stout wood handles of their weapons were cut and splin-
tered, while a glancing blow had inflicted a superficial cut upon
the right hand of Belibus. The fight thus far was on equal
terms.
"I am tiring,” thought Belibus. “I must push matters or
else be beaten."
He took a step forward, his hand firmly grasping his weapon,
his jaws set and a look of fierce determination upon his face.
He raised his axe aloft and pressed against Heber, watching
his antagonist closely the while. The young Jew experienced
a moment of weakness and stepped back quickly to avoid the
blow. He raised his axe but the guard was poor. He ducked
his head to the right as he saw the blow coming. As he did


80
RHESA
so his hand swerved a trifle, leaving an opening for his opponent.
Belibus quickly saw his opportunity; his axe descended, appear-
ing as if it would land directly upon the bare head of the Jew,
but at this instant Heber took another backward step. His
foot, planted directly in a pool of drying blood, slipped and
down he went, prostrate before his antagonist. The terrible
force of the Babylonian's blow spent itself in the air. The
momentum caused him to lose his balance, and he fell across
the breast of Heber. The active soldier, however, sprang up
instantly, grasped the axe which had flown from his hand as
he fell, and raised it aloft to dispatch his foe and thus end
the contest.
“Vengeance is the king's," flashed into his mind.
“Wilt thou yield ?” he asked.
"I yield,” replied the humbled Heber.
“Then arise, go into the palace and on thine honor remain
until I come. If thou enterest this fight again thy life shall
pay for thy falsity.”
Heber slowly arose and hobbled across the platform, (for in
falling a ligament in his right ankle had been sprained.) Beli-
bus stepped aside and watched him as long as his form was
visible in the darkness.
Belibus returned to the still undecided fray. His presence
was an inspiration to his comrades, who had exhibited signs of
weakening before the continued onslaughts of the confident
Jews. So intent had been the latter on their own individual
contests that they had not observed their leader's defeat. The
Winged Lions, taking on new life, made a desperate charge and
forced their antagonists back a few feet. The advantage was
only momentary, however, for reinforcements came up the stair-
way to the assistance of the Jews.
Faster and deadlier rained the blows from the Babylonian
axes while fiercer and faster came the spear thrusts of the
Hebrews. The outnumbered troopers were almost surrounded
and the stout heart of Belibus sank as he saw defeat staring
him in the face. The Jews noted with joy the advantages they


MAN TO MAN
had won over their enemies and rushed forward with renewed
vigor. Their ranks, constantly strengthened by fresh men from
the rear, presented a solid front. Their long-handled spears,
thrust well forward, kept the soldiers at a distance; for in order
to reach a man the soldiers were first obliged to demolish his
weapon. This placed them at a disadvantage and Belibus de-
termined to change the conditions.
“Come men,” he cried as he seized the ends of two spears in
his left hand, holding them as in a vise while he rushed in and
struck down their holders with two powerful blows from his
heavy axe.
The men caught the idea and followed his example. The
setting moon broke through the clouds and illuminated the
scene, thereby greatly assisting the defenders. The conflict now
became terrific; the troopers fighting for their lives; the Jews
for freedom. The soldiers were striking as they had never
struck before and now that they could clearly distinguish their
opponents, the blows were delivered with telling accuracy.
The carnage became frightful, the blood of Jew and Babylonian
mingling in a ghastly rill and flowing down the steps. Hardly
a man engaged but had a wound. Two troopers slowly and
painfully dragged themselves from the scene, only to die before
they could reach the palace. The fierce blows from the battle-
axes were beginning to tell as one after another the Jews fell
before them.
"Keep it up, men,” cried Belibus, himself fighting as a fiend
incarnate. His breastplate was cut and hacked almost to
shreds; his helmet battered and bruised; his whole person cov-
ered with blood; but still he pressed forward. It was three to
one against him—two spearmen and one swordsman opposing
him—but his terrible blows, few missing their mark, kept his
adversaries at a distance. Still the unengaged Jews in the
rear pressed forward to their fellows' assistance. When one
man fell another was ready to step into his place, thus keeping
the line intact. Because of the fresh men constantly entering


RHESA
the conflict it seemed probable the final victory would go to
the undisciplined Jews.
Forward and back swayed the opposing line. Scarcely fifteen
men blocked the way between the Hebrews and their goal but
seemingly those fifteen possessed charmed lives. Belibus, at
the extreme left, was fighting the fight of his life—though his
present proud position had been won by personal valor alone -
the strength of a god seeming to possess him. Even the Jews
could but admire the prowess of the man, but still they pressed
him, the three now increased to five.
"If Nabomuran were only here,” thought Belibus.
An ugly looking Jew stood directly before him. He was
armed with a long sword which he wielded savagely. Belibus
dodged the blows or caught them on his axe, while he returned
them with interest, but only his wonderful nerve kept his weary
muscles at work. He felt that even this must soon give way
before the terrible strain, but before that happened he was
determined to win the conflict or die where he stood. With a
desperate rush he bore down upon the ugly Jew and aimed a
fierce blow at his head. The blow, well aimed and well de-
livered, struck the man dead at his feet, but the blow seemed
the last the brave lieutenant would strike for his king, for at
this moment the four remaining antagonists completely sur-
rounded him and death and defeat seemed imminent.
A commotion took place among the rear ranks of the Jews.
They were forced apart to allow a tall white-clad figure, armed
with a huge battle-axe, to pass through them. The figure
neared Belibus, reaching his side at the critical moment of the
contest. A terrible blow from the newcomer's weapon struck
down a Jew who was on the point of thrusting his spear into
the lieutenant's unguarded side. The white-clad figure was
Nabomuran, Captain of the Guard.
Inspired by his presence and aided by his fresh arm the
Winged Lions made a last desperate rush upon their enemies.
Slowly the Jews gave way before the impetuous charge. Down,
down, the now confident troopers pushed them, until at length
battle-hing his side the newcorusting


MAN TO MAN
83
the line broke and the survivors fled precipitately down the steps.
Too late! Drawn up at the foot of the stairway, in instant
readiness for service stood a regiment of the king's best spear-
men. Rank upon rank stretched away from the foot of the
stairway, their forms barely distinguishable in the faint light.
Caught in a trap the weary Jews laid down their arms and
suffered themselves to be bound and led away to prison. The
worn out troopers left this work to the fresh troops. The
winners of the conflict walked slowly across the platform to
the palace, carrying their wounded comrades with them.
As they passed through the arched portal of the palace into
the great hall that ran the entire length of the building, a simi-
lar party entered at the opposite end. They also carried some
wounded comrades. Catching sight of this band, Nabomuran
and Belibus hurried forward to meet them.
"How went matters at the north ?" asked the commander.
"We were entirely successful,” replied a soldier, “but I fear
our victory is won at the cost of our brave trumpeter's life.”
A look of dismay and sorrow came over the commander's
face upon receipt of this intelligence. He bent low over the
form of his beloved subordinate, placed his ear close to the
wounded man's breast and listened.
"He is alive," he cried. “Bring him into my apartment at
once. One man call Kudur and another take the best horse in
the stables and ride to the temple. Summon hither my father
to attend the wounds of our friend.”
Two soldiers hastened to obey their commander's orders.
Nabomuran led the way to his own room. The soldiers ten-
derly deposited their burden upon the captain's couch. While
they awaited the coming of those sent for to care for the trum-
peter's wounds, Nabomuran listened to a recital of the night's
events. Belibus related the incidents connected with the fight
at the river stairs and at the south stairs, while a soldier told
of events taken part in by the band under the unfortunate
Nergalshazzar.
The fight at the northern stairway while lasting as long as


8A
RHESA
that at the south had been less disastrous to the Winged Lions,
as regarded the number of killed and wounded, but should the
troop lose its popular trumpeter, they would consider the vic-
tory won at great cost. According to the soldier's account
Nergalshazzar engaged in a personal encounter with the leader
of the band opposing his. The engagement was both long and
furious, the extreme quickness and dexterity of the Jewess en-
abling her to escape the soldier's terrific blows. At length,
however, an opportune blow, striking full upon her bronze
helmet and glancing to her forehead inflicted a severe cut. This
brought her to her knees, and placed her entirely at the Baby-
lonian's mercy. As she fell, her helmet dropped from her
head and rolled upon the pavement. This accident, causing
her long hair to fall, disclosed her sex. With all the soldier's
inborn reverence for womankind, he gallantly stepped aside and
allowed her to rise. The treacherous Jewess accepted her life
at his hands but upon regaining her feet, she rewarded his
courtesy by plunging a sword deep into his unguarded side.
He turned to strike at the murderess, but her blow had been
truly aimed. He dropped slowly to his knees and then fell
forward upon his face, apparently dead. In the excitement
Tirmar slipped through and behind her company. After this
the engagement was brief. The Winged Lions, maddened by
Tirmar's base deed, fought like demons, and in a few moments
the Jews broke and fled, leaving many dead and wounded behind
them. Tirmar, however, escaped.
What dire news the surviving Jews carried back to the
house in the wheatfield. Of the three hundred men who started
out to fight for Judah, scarcely fifty found their way back.
The remainder were either dead or, what might prove worse,
prisoners. Of the three leaders, Joram was slain, his body
drifting down the Euphrates toward the sea; Heber, a prisoner
destined for the dungeons beneath the king's palace; and
Tirmar, a fugitive.
Thus ended the Jewish attempt to work out their own salva-
tion. Thus God did thwart the plans of His chosen people that


THE RESCUE
85
His own plans might not be interfered with. Thus He showed
the Jews their destinies were in His hands and He alone could
give them freedom.
CHAPTER X
THE RESCUE
Actuated by a sudden impulse Orma followed Nabomuran
as he walked slowly down the path leading from her father's
house to the street. She had therefore been a witness of his
capture. Even in the darkness she recognized her brother and
his evil genius, Tirmar. The feelings engendered by the scene
were conflicting. Her great and natural love for her brother
forbade her condemning him too severely; but, on the other
hand, the deep admiration and respect she had for the hand-
some Babylonian raised within her a desire to help him if she
could. Although thoroughly a woman, in the highest sense
of the name, there was yet in her makeup that quality peculiar
to man which lauds and demands a fair fight upon equal terms.
The unfairness of the attack she had witnessed affronted that
inborn feeling and she could but feel less respect for the brother
who had won the unequal contest than for the lover who had
lost it.
Thus preyed upon by conflicting emotions she retraced her
steps to her bower. Her faithful little attendant who had been
at her side watching the conflict, followed her. It was now past
the hour of her retirement, but knowing full well sleep would
not come at her bidding, she still remained in the garden. She
lay for several moments upon the couch, her arms folded and
her head buried within them. Her long hair was in the wildest
confusion, yet a confusion that enhanced rather than detracted
from her beauty. Suddenly she raised her head and called to
Ruth. The little maiden hastened to her side.
"Thou sawest the captain taken prisoner?" she asked.


86
RHESA
"I did," was the reply.
“Didst thou notice whither they carried him? In the ex-
citement I did not see.”
"They carried him across the road and waited for another
party. Then they set off toward the outer wall.”
“Couldst thou follow them?”
"I think so.”
“Then go and see what they do with their prisoner. See
where they put him. Go! Run! Oh, Ruth, hurry! A new
shawl will I give thee if thou wilt only bring me news of him.”
Orma watched the little maid as she ran across the garden.
Then she turned and threw herself upon the couch.
"What can I do?" she moaned. “If I assist the captain I
will call down vengeance upon my brother's head. Heber!
Heber! Why wilt thou be perverse? Oh, my brother, my
brother."
A step upon the hard path without aroused her. She arose
and hastened to see who might be approaching at this hour.
Coming up the walk, with slow step and bowed head was
Nehum, her father. The old man seemed downcast; his hands
were clasped behind his back and his eyes were fixed upon the
ground before him.
As the old man neared his daughter's retreat he raised his
eyes. Her white dress outlined against the dark background
showed him her presence and he gave a joyous exclamation.
"Ah, my daughter, is that thee? I was sleepless and came
out into the garden thinking a walk might do me good.”
“Come into the bower, father. I wish to speak to thee.
To converse together may relieve both our minds,” she said.
Orma led the old man to the couch. She placed a low stool
at his feet and seated herself thereon. She folded her arms
upon his knees and looked up into his face with sweet love.
Her father placed one hand upon her glossy hair and lovingly
stroked it. The soldier was forgotten in the homage her heart
bestowed upon her father. Since the death of the wife and
mother, father and daughter had been daily growing more dear


THE RESCUE :
to each oth type of love he payment her father's ben meer mind.
to each other. It was pure attachment of parent and child,
the highest type of love possessed by man, a love kindled and
kept ever burning by the payment of mutual kindnesses and
attentions. Thus looking up into her father's benign coun-
tenance she revealed unto him all that was passing in her mind.
"When I wrote thy invitation to the captain I added an
invitation for myself. I wished to speak with him concerning
Heber. At my request he told me all. He sent Heber with
a message of the king's, but the message failed to arrive on
time. Heber was stopped by Tirmar and led to her father's
house. The captain did not seem to know, father, but we
know that our misguided countrymen meet there to plan their
wild schemes of rebellion. I fear Heber is leagued with them.
Oh, father, if they carry out their intentions and fail, our poor
boy's life will be in danger; not even the captain's intervention
could save him," she said.
“My boy! My poor misguided boy!” cried the old man.
“Did the soldier have aught further to say ?” he asked after
a moment.
"Nothing more concerning Heber," she replied, somewhat
embarrassed.
“What then did he say?".
She slipped one hand confidingly within his broad palm.
"He told me he-he-loved-me.” She spoke the words
slowly and almost in a whisper as one who makes a dreaded
confession.
Her father was silent. In the darkness she could not see
the expression of his countenance, but she feared he was dis-
pleased. He waited some moments before speaking.
“To know thee is to love thee, daughter," he said tenderly,
"and I can but feel pride that a mighty captain, standing high
in the king's service should thus honor a child of mine. Yet,
the noblest of his race though he appears unto me, he is an
idolater. He is still the worshiper of stone images, his father
the head of a false religion. My child, didst thou accept his
love?"


88
RHESA
"Nay father. I spoke of the barriers between us, but he
made no reply. He only became thoughtful; troubled.”
“Dost thou love him, dear one?"
She was silent. Her foot tapped the hard floor nervously;
tears came into her eyes and her lips quivered. The old man
awaited patiently the answer but he more than half suspected.
Her silence showed her suffering. The hand he passed over
her brow returned to him moist. As he thought of the struggle
going on at his feet, his love for his daughter grew to fever
heat. He felt that never before had he fully appreciated this
blessing God had bestowed upon him.
She looked up suddenly.
“Father,” she said, “I cannot deny the truth I hope to
overcome. I love the soldier next to thee. He seemeth so
noble, so grand. His actions are manly; his words are words
of wisdom; his character is pure and high. His purposes in
life seem commendable; he is devoted to his king and to his
country. He is, as thou sayest, a worshiper of idols but there
may yet come to him a revelation; he may yet feel the lack
of that comfort we know of. Father, is it wrong for me to
love him? Am I false to my God in feeling affection for an
idolater?"
Nehum was silent as he pondered well the questions she
put to him.
“Daughter,” he said finally, "thy happiness and welfare are
dearer to me than aught else on earth. Whatever troubles
thee troubles me; whatever pleases thee pleases me. I would
not hastily answer the questions thou puttest to me. Let us
both think closely on the matter; let us ask our Father to guide
us and to Him leave the decision. He worketh all things well.
Those who trust in God, who let Him decide their earthly
matters for them always triumph over their difficulties. It is
best to say nothing more of the matter. If the captain's love
is as strong as the man's nature bids me believe, he will await
thy final decision, though years and troubles intervene.
"Aside from thy religious differences I have no objections to


THE RESCUE
89
He will Lean upon an idolatend, but it is
decide all Him and at thet Jehovah'st my belief that
this man becoming thy husband, but it is against my belief that
thou shouldst wed an idolater. Let Jehovah be thy constant
guide. Lean upon Him and at His feet lay thy every trial.
He will decide all for thy best good. Now daughter, I will
leave thee. I feel better for our little talk.”
After advising her to seek her couch soon, he arose, kissed
her lovingly and departed. Orma resumed her previous recum-
bent position upon the couch in the bower and lay quietly await-
ing Ruth's return. The moments drifted by; she felt her eye-
lids growing heavier and heavier. Finally nature asserted
itself and she dropped into a peaceful slumber. She was awak-
ened by feeling Ruth's hands upon her shoulders. Throwing
off her drowsiness she arose.
"What news bringest thou?" she asked impatiently.
"They carried the soldier to the house of Josedek and con-
fined him beneath it. Vast throngs of armed men were gath-
ered about the house and I feared to go near, so I hid myself
in the wheat and watched. While I lay there I heard low
talking, and then three columns of men marched away. The
others dispersed and soon I was bold enough to approach the
house. There is but one man left on guard, and him I know.
Can we not undo the door and let the captain out?”
This suggestion had not before entered Orma's mind. After
sending Ruth to find his prison she had thought of what she
could do to aid him, but nothing had suggested itself to her.
Now for fear her sober second thought would forbid such action,
she hastened to do as the little maid suggested.
“Lead thou the way, Ruth. We will do what we can," she
said.
Ruth guided her straight to the house of Josedek. In the
edge of the wheat they halted to listen and to ascertain what
opposition remained. The young sentry was still on guard,
pacing slowly up and down before the cellar entrance. He
seemed fully awake to his duty. Orma's heart sank as she saw
no chance of his deserting his post. On the very threshold of


go
RHESA
the soldier's prison she seemed defeated. Then the ready wit
of her little maid came to the rescue.
"Wait,” she whispered, “I will persuade him to leave for
a moment."
Advancing to the very edge of the cleared space surrounding
the house, she called softly, “Jada."
The sentry heard and stopped abruptly. Again the girl spake
his name. He looked in all directions, vainly endeavoring to
see through the darkness. As she repeated his name the third
time Ruth advanced toward him.
"O Ruth, is it thee?” he asked as he recognized her.
Orma could hear nothing more that passed between them,
but in a moment she heard their steps as Ruth led the sentry
away from the door. Allowing them time to get out of hear-
ing, she crept from her hiding place, hurried across the inter-
vening space and groped her way to the building. Upon reach-
ing the door she found it to be securely fastened by a heavy bar
of palm wood. She grasped the bar with both hands and
tugged, tugged till the blood mounted to her head, but to no
avail. Undaunted, she placed her shoulder beneath the bar and
firmly bracing her feet for a final effort, lifted with every
atom of strength in her body. The bar gave way and, with
a crash that to her excited sensibilities seemed terrific, fell at
her feet. The door few open and she passed through into the
inky blackness of the cellar. She stopped to listen, hoping some
sound from the prisoner might guide her to his cell. She was
not disappointed. In a voice muffled by the partitions Nabo-
muran was calling upon his gods to rescue him.
She groped her way toward the sound, and feeling her way
along the damp walls, came to the door of his cell. A simple
bronze hasp was its only fastening. It yielded to her touch;
the door swung slowly open and she found herself upon the
threshold of her lover's prison. Now for the first time she
realized the step she had taken, the position she was in. She
could feel the blood mounting to her brow, but she controlled
her embarrassment, thankful that it was dark.


THE RESCUE
“Captain,” she called softly.
“What voice is that? It sounds like sweet music on mine
ear," came a voice from the darkness.
“It is I, Orma the daughter of Nehum," she answered.
“As if that voice could be unknown to me,” he said.
"Art thou bound?” she asked.
“My cords are loosed sufficiently for me to walk."
"Then come, sir, come quickly. The guard is absent for a
moment and thou must be well away from here ere he returns.”
He obeyed in silence and together they groped their way out
into the open air. Ruth was playing her part well—the guard
had not returned.
"How can I ever repay thee for thine act this night?” said
the soldier bending over her.
"Speak not of pay but for thy safety's sake leave this spot.
See, here is the guard's battle-axe. Take it, sever thy cords
and go I beseech thee.”
“But—" began the soldier.
"Not another word,” she said commandingly.
Realizing her wisdom, he took the axe, cut the cords that
bound his ankles and, snatching her hand before she realized
his intentions, imprinted thereon a passionate kiss.
"Thine action gives me hope,” he murmured.
"Nay!" she cried, "what I have done for thee I would have
done for another in like strait.”
The soldier smiled at her mild falsehood. He waved her
another kiss, ran across the cleared space and disappeared in
the wheat.
Nabomuran hurried toward the city. As he neared the old
palace he heard the sounds of conflict and quickened his pace.
He was bewildered by the night's events, and knew not how
far reaching this rebellion might be. A trooper galloped by.
Nabomuran hailed him and inquired the meaning of the noise.
“I know not,” replied the man. “I have only this moment
heard it and am riding to find the cause.”
“Go thou and bid a regiment of foot come to the palace with


92
RHESA
all haste. I know not the meaning of this commotion but it
is best to be prepared for anything."
The trooper turned and rode away to carry out his com-
mander's orders. He had proceeded scarcely three blocks be-
fore he met a regiment en route for the scene of conflict. Some
member of the troop had heard of the engagement and acting
on his own responsibility, had hastened to summon assistance.
To the foresight of this unknown man the Jews owed their
final defeat.
Nabomuran stood sadly beside his couch gazing down into
the white, drawn features of his beloved trumpeter. Kudur,
the chief of the servants attached to the Winged Lions, was
a surgeon of no mean order as surgeons went in those days. He
used every method known to him to stanch the blood that flowed
from the trumpeter's ghastly wound; but all without avail.
The sword of the treacherous Jewess had penetrated too deeply.
Neboakhu, (who in addition to his priestly office. was termed
the best surgeon in the land) came at his son's request, but the
distance he had to traverse made him slow to reach the palace.
He undid the bandages that Kudur had applied and compli-
mented the Susianian upon his work. He looked at the wound
carefully and then, turning to his companions, he said quietly:
“No human skill can save him.”
Tears came into the eyes of the soldiers at this announcement.
With the possible exception of Nabomuran the trumpeter was
the most popular member of the troop. Neboakhu continued
his ministrations but nothing he could do would stop the flow
of blood. At length, giving up all hope the priest arose and
left the couch, Nabomuran following.
A movement in the group about the couch attracted their
attention and both men moved across the room to the sufferer's
side. Nergalshazzar showed some signs of life. Indeed as they
reached his side his eyes opened and his lips moved. The priest
leaned over to catch whatever word he might speak.


THE GREAT PROCESSION 93
"Belibus," murmured the dying man.
The lieutenant approached the bedside at a signal from
Neboakhu and knelt beside his comrade.
"Tell Halista—my last—thoughts were of her.-Win-her
-my—Belibus—and—may—the-gods—bless thee. For-give
that-Jew—ess—as—freely as—1—forgive—her. I-am-dy-
ing. It-is-well. -I shall-not-see the-usur-per-mount
the-throne. May curses—rest—upon the-head of Nabon-
idos-and--"
Here the broken utterance ceased. Belibus remained beside
the couch intently listening for some further word from his
friend. Neboakhu poured a small quantity of wine down the
dying man's throat. He opened his eyes and again his lips
moved.
“The captain,” he murmured.
Nabomuran succeeded his subordinate at the bedside. Ner-
galshazzar placed his hand in that of his superior.
"Farewell. May-the-gods—bless-and-honor thee."
Again he stopped. Nabomuran arose and the priest took
his place. A moment later he arose.
“It is over," he said solemnly.
CHAPTER XI
THE GREAT PROCESSION
The tenth day of June, five hundred and thirty-nine years
before the opening of the Christian era was eminently suited
by nature for celebrating so momentous an event as the corona-
tion of a new king in Babylon the Magnificent. When, but
an hour after the weary troopers of the Winged Lions had
retired to secure what rest the lateness of the hour permitted,
the sun's glorious orb appeared above the city's mammoth wall
and its first rays rested upon the golden roof of the beautiful
temple, it was apparent the gods were to smile upon the new


94
RHESA
king for one day at least. In ancient augury the propitious
weather of his coronation day gave promise of a successful
reign for the youthful prince.
The luxurious inhabitants of the Golden City were usually
late risers but this custom was broken upon the morning now
so auspiciously opened. By eight o'clock the streets began
to take on a holiday appearance.
Imagine standing in a sheltered vantage spot upon that great
thoroughfare so often mentioned in these pages. Our station
is just inside the inner wall where we can watch the coming
throngs as they hurry toward the center of the city. See!
Here they come. Here comes a group of gaily attired chil-
dren conducted by a decorous old female slave. Running,
playing, shouting, laughing they skip along. Heirs of some
noble old house they are no doubt. A group of adults follow,
Babylonians also, their dark faces lighted up with expectancy.
Following them come two aged Jews, walking slowly with
bowed heads and solemn mien. They seem sorrowful. Per-
haps their boys perished by the river side last night or are now
prisoners in the dark dungeons beneath the Euphrates.
The people crowd by faster than we can recognize them. All
the nations of the East are represented. Here is a Susianian, his
thick lips and swarthy countenance forming a striking contrast
with his gown of spotless white linen. Behind walks a Greek,
a tall handsome fellow whose long strides and graceful carriage
denote an athlete. The people about regard him curiously but
he hurries along unconscious of their stares. Next we see a
Phoenician merchant and his retinue. His ship is even now
moored at the port to the south where slaves are unloading his
precious silks and spices. His rich habiliments and important
air bespeak him a man of consequence. A company of Arabs
files through the gateway, on foot, their horses left outside the
gate. At their head walks their youthful sheik; perhaps we
may see him again in the future.
Why tarry here in idleness longer when we should be securing
our position for viewing the great parade? We join the on-


THE GREAT PROCESSION
95
rushing multitude and are borne onward. Whither it goes we
must go. We are barely able as we hurry by to notice the
houses beside our way. Gay banners and streamers fly in the
gentle morning breeze. Every house has its decorations to show
the patriotism of its owner. For the one day at least all are
loyal. We cannot stay to witness the beauty of the trimmings,
but are hurried along faster than we wish, but we care not. All
are in good nature this morning. At last the rushing tide de-
posits us in the market place before the wine shop of old Makeil.
We stop and seek refreshment.
Old Makeil is busy. His regular patrons and many new ones
demand his attention. For the day he has impressed the serv-
ices of a dozen black-eyed Jewish maidens who, clad in simple
white gowns, Alit about among the tables ministering to the
wants of the thirsty throngs. At a table near the street sit
Belesis, Iddin and their comrades, their time divided between
gazing upon the passing throngs and inflicting lewd jests upon
the unsuspicious maidens.
"A gallant fight the Winged Lions made last night,” said
Iddin, to introduce a new topic.
"What fight is that?" asked a companion.
"Hast thou then not heard? A band of Jews suddenly and
without warning attacked the old palace where the Winged
Lions are lodged. It was a desperate encounter but the soldiers
were victorious in the end. I fear our troop of which we are so
proud will make but a sorry appearance to-day. Many of the
men were wounded and those who escaped unhurt must be
nearly exhausted."
"Were many killed ?" asked one.
"Several, I know not how many. The greatest casualty was
the death of Nergalshazzar.”
"Alas!" exclaimed several of the group.
"He was one of the finest of men,” said Belesis. “It is indeed
a pity he should be killed at the very beginning of a brilliant
career. I have heard he aspired to the hand of Halista."


96
RHESA
"Perhaps it is well for Belshazzar that the trumpeter was
killed at this time,” remarked one of the group.
"Why?” asked several at once.
“It is rumored the handsome trumpeter was none other than
Sheshbazzar, the claimant of the throne about whom so inuch is
said of late."
"Nonsense,” said Iddin decidedly, "Nergalshazzar's parent-
age is unknown, I admit, but I have heard it stated his presence
on earth was due to his mother's worship of Beltis."
A hearty laugh greeted this remark. Children resulting
from this peculiar worship were no rarity in Babylon.
“As to this Sheshbazzar, I sometimes think no such man
exists,” added Iddin.
“For the sake of peace let us hope thou art right,” said
Belesis.
The street was now densely packed with people awaiting the
coming of the great procession. The young noblemen settled
with Makeil, and left the shop. They pushed their way through
the throng toward the junction of the market place and the
temple street. Here a gigantic triumphal arch had been erected.
Upon the arch's summit seats had been arranged for the ladies
and it was this attraction that drew the gay youths toward
the arch. Pushing, crowding, elbowing they forced their way
through the crowd. The attendants at the entrance recognized
them and they were allowed to mount the winding stairs that
led up through one leg of the arch to its summit. They emerged
in the midst of a literal bower of beauty. Here were gathered
all the noble maids and matrons of the Golden City. All?
No, for the foremost woman of the land was missing. Nitocris,
queen of Babylon had failed to make her appearance and occupy
the beautiful throne erected for her upon the edge of the arch's
summit. Her place was supplied by the popular and beautiful
Halista, the king's niece. Here, surrounded by a group of
male and female admirers, noble men and beautiful women, she
sat as a queen.
The slender lines of girlhood had but given place to the


THE GREAT PROCESSION
97
more rounded figure of young womanhood. It was her rarely
beautiful face that was her chief attraction, a face denoting
the inner purity of a noble soul which even life in a corrupt
court had failed to taint. Her eyes, so black, so beautiful, that
seemed to rest so quietly upon the face of whomever she con-
versed with, could on occasion flash fire. With all her inno-
cence and frankness there was drawn about Halista a magic
circle within which none dared step. Never during her whole
life had one approached her with aught but feelings of respect.
She was attired as befitted royalty. A long loose gown of
the purest silk descended to her feet. The straps over her
shoulders were likewise of silk, interwoven with threads of
gold and silver. They were profusely embroidered with gold
and trimmed with the fairest of pearls. A necklace of the
same gems encircled her snowy neck while a tiara of gold set
with pearls and precious stones adorned the glossy, raven-hued
hair that graced her noble head.
It was toward this beautiful woman that Iddin, the rab mag's
son, made his way. She turned at his approach and, while ap-
parently welcoming him, there was too little deception in her
character to enable her to fully disguise the loathing she felt
for the man. The dullest bystander could plainly see the rab
mag's son was no favorite with the king's niece.
“Ha," said the youth, “I behold a younger and handsomer
queen than I expected to find.”
"Younger only,” replied the princess. “Queen Nitocris has
no rival in beauty.” She spoke sharply, making no attempt
to disguise her abhorrence of his flattery.
"Our queen is ill to-day, I fear,” continued Iddin.
"I know not. She only announced her intention of re-
maining at the palace.” As she spoke she leaned over and
gazed down upon the crowd below.
A faint sound of music floated up to them. The people
below heard it.
“Here it comes," was the cry passed down the line.
Slowly and with stately tread the head of the procession


THE GREAT PROCESSION
99
Immedi acknowledgment of the king's niece Dow: A smile
parade. The loud cheers of the populace drew attention to it.
Halista looked up in time to gaze full upon the person of Na-
bomuran, Captain of the Guard. The young chieftain was
mounted upon his beloved Saru who pranced and curvetted in
the very height of equine pride. Nabomuran was simply clad.
His dress and arms were only those his rank required. He
glanced up at the arch and as his eye rested upon Halista, he
lifted his helmet gracefully and made a profound bow. A smile
came over the sweet features of the king's niece and she bowed
slightly in acknowledgment of the soldier's courtesy.
Immediately following their commander rode the first bat-
talion of the Winged Lions, two platoons of fifteen men each.
Their appearance was in keeping with their fame. They were
fully armed, their polished helmets glistening in the sun. Their
bows and quivers were strapped upon their backs and in their
hands they carried long spears surmounted by bright bronze
heads. Their horses were decorated in the most sumptuous man-
ner, their headgears, breast straps and saddle cloths all em-
broidered lavishly. The troopers were the heroes of the day.
The events of the preceding night were rapidly becoming known
and the people received the victors with loud acclamations. The
carriage of the soldiers was perfect. They sat straight and
rigid upon their horses, restraining and guiding their steeds with
the left hand while the right held the spear aloft.
The troopers passed through the arch, wheeling into columns
of five in order to do so. Then the next following body be-
came the object of interest. This was a company of spearmen
divided into four ranks of twenty-five men each. Silently and
decorously they marched along, looking neither to the right nor
the left. Their soldierly bearing called forth fresh cheers from
the spectators. A hundred bowmen followed and then the
hushed expectancy of the multitude proclaimed the approach of
some new object of interest. In an instant the quiet gave way
to loud bursts of applause as six milk-white horses, gay in their
costly trappings, came into view. They stepped softly as if
realizing their proud position. The golden trimmings of their
cars were pears upon Tenina amen me


100
RHESA
harnesses glistened and shone; the tinkle of the tiny bridle bells
made sweet music upon the air. The attendants, one for each
pair of horses, marched on the left. From between the leaders
projected the end of the jointed chariot pole, carved into a sem-
blance of a lion's head. The crossbar was also carved and was
adorned with trimmings of gilt. Then came the chariot itself,
literally covered with gold, its heavy wheels rumbling upon the
hard pavement. The charioteer, tall and muscular held the lines
firmly in his grasp. He looked neither to the right nor left, his
gaze fixed upon his mettlesome chargers. Behind him, clad in
all the magnificence man could imagine, his precious head
shielded from the sun's rays by a huge gorgeous umbrella, stood
Nabonidos, king of Babylon. To-day an expression of mingled
pride and satisfaction displaced the usual look of languor and
effeminacy upon the monarch's face. From the moment his
chariot had passed through the palace gates he had received an
ovation sufficient to gratify the most exacting tyrant. He bowed
to either side as he rode along, seeking to gain the hearts of his
subjects by his graciousness. The day was planned for this pur-
pose and the king was determined to achieve his object. He too
uncovered, removing his golden helmet, and bowed to the beauty
bower above his head.
A second chariot followed that of Nabonidos. It was an
exact duplicate of the first, horses, harness, attendants and all.
Belshazzar, the youthful occupant, elicited as much enthusiasm
as his father. If anything the ovation given him was the greater.
The people shouted themselves hoarse in his honor, striving to
make known their allegiance. Belshazzar's face wore a proud
smile as he bowed in acknowledgment of their shouts. While
the king had worn a helmet of beaten gold, inlaid with gems, his
son stood bareheaded in token of his present uncrowned state.
His long dark locks hung loosely about his shoulders. The
boy's usually dull face was lighted up with an expression of joy
and pride, transforming him for the moment into a man and a
king.
As the young prince was about to pass beneath the arch a


THE GREAT PROCESSION
IOI
beautiful surprise was sprung in his honor. Like the arch and
all pertaining to it, this was the conception of Queen Nitocris.
At the moment Belshazzar's chariot passed into the arch num-
erous small windows all over the building were opened and
from each a tiny maid, clothed in white gauze, was lowered by
a slave. The silken ropes that sustained them, while of suffi-
cient strength to prevent accident, were so slight as to be practi-
cally invisible to the throngs below. The effect of this appari-
tion was beautiful in the extreme. Belshazzar glanced up and
a smile of pleasure overspread his features. As he looked up a
shower of the most beautiful flowers came pouring down upon
him and the tiny elves chanted a chorus of welcome to the accom-
paniment of harps played by unseen hands within the arch.
The people were so impressed with the beautiful spectacle
that they gazed in silence. To them it really looked as if the
children were floating in space. Immediately after Belshazzar
had passed the children were slowly drawn up toward the win-
dows and finally disappeared within the building. Following the
chariot of the prince came the duplicate of the guard preceding
his father, only in reversed order. First came the bowmen, then
the spearmen and then the second battalion of the Winged
Lions.
The applause called forth by Nabomuran and the first bat-
talion of his command only slightly exceeded that given Belibus
and the second. The lieutenant was the hero of the previous
night's fight and his appearance elicited storms of applause, his
name being called among the cheers. The second battalion was
an exact duplicate of the first.
From the arch there now stretched away as far as the eye
could see, a long line of gaudy chariots, two abreast, drawn by
stout and gaily caparisoned horses. They contained the nobles
of the court; the high officers of the empire. So long was this
portion of the procession that it would have proved tedious to
the spectators but for the pleasure of naming the individuals as
they passed. The first brace of chariots contained Vulmaran,
chief councillor of the empire and Neboakhu, chief priest of


102
RHESA
Bel. It was usually acknowledged that the latter ranked next
the king but as a matter of etiquette the rab mag was placed
upon a level with him.
Rank after rank they passed, vehicles and men replendent in
all the magnificence known to their day. The brilliant colors
of the men's apparel and the brightness of their armor gave to
this portion of the parade a kaleidoscopic effect beautiful to be-
hold. However, too much brilliance is tiring to the eyes and it
was a relief to the throngs when the last chariot rattled past and
the first ranks of white-robed priests came into view. Clad in
their flowing robes, their degrees shown by the number of
flounces upon their skirts, they filed slowly by, their long lines
reaching completely across the broad street.
The last line of priests at length passed through the arch and
the last but largest division came into view. In platoons of
twenty-four men abreast they reached far into the distance.
This was Babylon's army, spearmen, bowmen and horsemen.
Thus ended the greatest pageant of ancient times.
CHAPTER XII
THE BLESSING OF THE GODS
Of all the wonders ancient writers ascribe to the Chaldean
capital first and foremost stands the great temple of Bel. Built
in eight stages one placed above another, its golden roofed sum-
mit was several hundred feet above the surrounding grounds.
Notwithstanding the destruction by conquerors and devastation
of the elements, the ruins of this wonderful edifice are to-day
more than six hundred feet long and nearly an hundred and
fifty in height. To this temple we now repair to witness the
ceremony of coronation.
Long before the last platoon of the great procession reached
the arch, the foremost ranks arrived at the base of the temple.
Musicians, troopers and footmen all wheeled off to the west to


THE BLESSING OF THE GODS
103
make their way back to the various camping places. Only a
select few could witness the ceremonies in the shrine. The first
man to enter the temple enclosure was Nabomuran who rode
through the great bronze gates, leaving his battalion to make its
way back to the old palace without a leader. He remained
alone while two bodies of soldiery following the Winged Lions
came up and wheeled off to the west. Then the gates opened
to admit the chariots of Nabonidos and Belshazzar. Nabomu-
ran instantly dismounted and advanced bareheaded to meet
them. The king appeared weary but he received the soldier most
graciously.
"All is successful thus far,” he said.
"The gods smile upon our new king,” said the soldier, nod-
ding at Belshazzar.
"It augurs for me a prosperous reign,” exclaimed the boy
joyously.
“The gods grant it,” said Nabomuran solemnly.
He had felt strangely oppressed throughout the celebration
thus far. Some mysterious power seemed to hold him in its
grasp. Instead of being joyous when all about him were cele-
brating, he had been sad. As a lover of his nation he felt all
connected with the day to be a mistake, but in addition to that
feeling he had a strange presentiment that he personally would
have reason to regret the prince's elevation.
Soon the gates again opened, this time to admit the chariots
of Vulmaran and Neboakhu. Close behind them came those of
the king's councillors, six in number. Another wait and then
the first of the long lines of white-robed priests reached the
temple. After the last priest had entered the enclosure the sol-
diers on guard shut and barred the great gates. No more of
the ceremony was to be seen by the populace.
A procession was quickly formed, led by eight priests playing
upon harps. Following them were eight singing priests. Na-
boakhu came next carrying a golden censer filled with burning
incense whose aromatic smoke floated back over the heads of
those following him. Then came Nabonidos with Belshazzar


104
RHESA
but a foot behind him. Vulmaran and the council followed
Belshazzar, and Nabomuran brought up the rear. The line
formed, the priests struck up a solemn chant and with slow steps
they began the laborious ascent of the temple.
Round and round the huge pile of masonry wound the pro-
cession, moving slowly and solemnly, yet ever mounting higher.
All heads were bowed. Their sandaled feet made no sound
upon the hard brick pavement of the inclined plane. Only
the sweet tones of the harps, the sleepy chanting of the priests
and the soft tinkle of the golden chains holding Neboakhu's
swinging censer, broke the stillness. The deep solemnity of the
occasion made an impression upon the minds of all, a mingled ex-
pression of awe and veneration covering their faces.
Just half way from the pavement to the shrine they stopped
while Neboakhu and Belshazzar entered a small chapel to make
a sacrifice unto the gods. The innocent life of a sucking kid
was offered up upon the golden altar that its pure blood might
win the valued smiles of Merodach for the new king. Nearly
a half-hour was thus consumed, a tedious time of waiting for
those without the chapel. At length the pair emerged and took
their former places in the company. They again mounted
slowly, solemnly, preceded by the monotonous music and sweet
incense.
Onward, upward in gradually decreasing circles they toiled
until at last they halted upon the broad level platform of the
topmost stage, before the entrance to the wonderful golden
roofed shrine. They stood some moments before entering this
Sanctum Sanctorum of Chaldean religion. The panorama
spread out at their feet was well worth the long and tiresome
climb to behold.
Off to the northwest stretched the great plain, now used as a
camp for the vast bodies of soldiery attendant upon the cere-
monies of the coronation. As the members of Belshazzar's
retinue looked down they could see a long line of troops, the
rear of the great procession, from this height appearing as a
single black mark, marching toward the camp. Thin vapory


THE BLESSING OF THE GODS
105
columns of smoke rising from all parts of the vast plain bespoke
the approaching dinner hour. An army of cooks was engaged
in roasting fat bullocks for the feasting of the troops.
Away toward the south stretched the long straight streets of
the Golden City, lined on either side with stately buildings,
beautiful gardens and occasionally fields of waving grain. Far
beyond in the distance rose the comparatively low rampart of
the inner wall, while still farther away the enormous outer wall
reared its stupendous bulk as a vast artificial mountain. The
glimmer of the noonday sun upon the placid waters of the great
reservoir glanced up at them, a dazzling sight. The tall trees
of the wonderful Hanging Gardens cast a slight shade over one
portion of the glittering expanse of water. West of the tem-
ple the imprisoned Euphrates flowed silently but swiftly between
its sombre banks of burnt brick, drawn irresistibly onward
toward its final destination. On either side of the great river
rose the walls and towers of the palaces, the one occupied by
the royal household and the other by the king's guard. Baby-
lon from this height seemed indeed a golden city, bathed as it
was in the yellow rays of the noonday sun.
The participants in the coronation ceremonies had but a
moment to enjoy the rarely beautiful scene beneath them. Ne-
boakhu, who had entered the shrine the moment they reached
the summit, now returned and with a wave of his long right
arm motioned them to enter.
Two priests held back the heavy and costly draperies that
screened the entrance and the company filed in. The sight
within the shrine was one of greatest grandeur and magnifi-
cence. Gold was used lavishly in the decoration of this won-
derful place of worship. It glistened from every portion of the
room. Even the nails that fastened the boards of the polished
floor to the timbers, had golden heads. The walls on three
sides were hung with the richest draperies the world produced.
They were hung from golden rods while long tassels of gold
cord adorned their tops. The climax of Oriental magnificence
was reached in the ceiling. This was a mosaic of incalculable


106
RHESA
value composed entirely of precious stones set in patterns. Agates,
beryls, sards, amethysts and in fact all the stones known at that
day were mingled in a grand scintillating mass of ever-changing
color. In the very center of the ceiling, in a setting of pure
gold, was the pride of the collection, the Indian stone, as it was
called. It was undoubtedly a diamond of rare weight and
beauty. It was the only specimen known in the city and was
greatly valued by the people, who assigned to it many wonder-
ful powers and bestowed upon it several poetical names, such as
the Eye of Bel.
Directly across the shrine from the entrance door, heavy cur-
tains hid the eastern portion of the interior from the present com-
pany. Directly in front of the curtains was a huge golden table,
forty feet long and fifteen broad, upon which stood two beau-
tiful drinking cups of pure gold, each weighing thirty talents.
Between the table and the curtains extended a railing of gold,
the middle section removable to permit the entrance of such
privileged persons as were allowed within the hidden space.
Neboakhu approached the table with slow step and solemn
air, his head bowed and his hands crossed before him. At his
command Belshazzar removed his sandals. The young prince
was now entirely in the hands of the chief priest and must obey
his every order. He approached the table and knelt beside it.
The chief priest took a small goblet of pure gold and of finest
workmanship and, after dipping it into one of the mammoth
vessels upon the table, handed it to Belshazzar who drank its
contents slowly and reverently. The great solemnity and
grandeur of the ceremonies he was about to pass through awed
the lad and lifted his soul above the level of personal pride and
vanity upon which he had been living throughout the earlier
portion of the day.
"My son," said the old priest solemnly, “thou hast now drunk
of the sacred wine of the temple, which is to purify the thoughts
of thy mind and fitly prepare thy heart for the solemn cere-
monies thou art about to pass through. Arise and follow me.”
One of the lesser priests removed the section of railing and


THE BLESSING OF THE GODS
107
unseen hands opened the curtain sufficiently to permit the en-
trance of the priest and Belshazzar. Immediately they were
closed again, separating the remainder of the company from the
pair. The hidden mysteries were now to be revealed to the
boy. For at least half an hour they remained shut in behind
the curtains. Finally the draperies were slowly pushed aside,
revealing to the entire company the contents of the Inner Cham-
ber.
Upon a raised platform at the rear of the curtained space
stood three golden statues, all of heroic size. The central
figure towered above its neighbors and was of finer workman-
ship, as was its due, for the colossal form of gold was the
earthly representation of the great god, Bel or Belus, in whose
honor this vast pile of masonry had been raised. To him of
all other deities the people of the Golden City gave their alle-
giance. The other statues represented, the one on the right
Bel's consort Beltis, and the one on the left Ishtar, who corre-
sponds to the Venus of the Greeks.
On either side of the great figure of Beltis stood an immense
golden lion and next each lion a serpent of solid silver raised
its ugly head. Directly beside each image stood a golden bowl
and upon each end of the raised platform stood an enormous
golden censer. Both the latter were now filled with burning
incense whose perfumed smoke filled the confined space almost
to suffocation.
Kneeling upon a golden stool directly before the statue of Bel
was Belshazzar, not yet king but about to be anointed. While
he remained in this position his father, Nabonidos, approached
bareheaded and barefooted and with eyes uplifted to the face
of Bel, made the following declaration:
“I, Nabonidos, servant of Bel and Merodach and by their
favor king of Babylon, do in this sacred place and in the pres-
ence of these witnesses affirm and declare: That I willingly and
joyfully bestow upon this, my well-beloved son, Belshazzar, the
half of my kingdom and my throne. In so doing I solemnly ad-
jure him to always reverence the great gods, by whose favor our


108
RHESA
kingdom is great; to rule with justice, punishing all who dis-
obey his mandates, yet showing mercy unto all who deserve it;
to guard well the treasures of the temple; to defend the land
against our foes; to uphold and protect the people, remem-
bering always that his great honor is also his great responsi-
bility.”
Nabonidos then stepped back a few feet. Acting under the
chief priest's orders Belshazzar now arose and approached the
great statue of Bel. Clasping the feet of the image with both
arms, he rested his head thereon. Thus prostrate before his
god he was in due position to be made king, but before being
anointed it was necessary that he make oath to properly perform
his duties. Therefore Neboakhu told him the oath, phrase by
phrase, the boy repeating each after the priest.
"I, Belshazzar, son of Nabonidos king of Babylon, prostrated
before my master Bel, lord of heaven and earth, do now make
solemn oath.
“As king of Babylon I will give devotion to the great gods
and command my people to do likewise. I will honor and sup-
port the priesthood; guard well the treasures of the temple; heed
the advice of my counsellors; sustain schools for the instruction
of the people; punish the wicked and reward the just.
"I will always recognize and obey the commands of the gods.
I will repair and build temples, causing sacrifice to be made at
all times to satisfy the gods.
"I will defend the land against foreign foes and domestic
traitors. I will maintain an army to defend our land and will
honor its officers as our defenders.”
All this and much more after the same style the youth will-
ingly swore to. The oath administered, all that remained was
the anointing, crowning and blessing. Neboakhu held aloft over
his head a golden cup holding a small quantity of perfumed
oil, which had remained beside the image of Bel for eight and
forty hours that the god might bless it and render it potent.
He slowly turned the cup until the liquid was upon the very


THE BLESSING OF THE GODS
109
edge. Then as the oil ran over and trickled down upon the lad's
head, he repeated :
“With this pure oil I anoint thee king of Babylon.”
Now lifting a golden chaplet set with gems, the priest pressed
it down upon the prince's head, exclaiming as he did so:
“Arise, O King, and do thine homage to Bel who gives thee
power.”
Belshazzar arose and prostrated himself thrice before the
idol. He then stood upright with folded arms waiting to re-
ceive the final blessing from the chief priest. With that blessing
the ceremony would be completed and Belshazzar would be
ready to receive the homage of his people. Neboakhu stood be-
side the image of Bel motionless, looking into space. Seconds
drifted into minutes and still the old priest remained silent. It
was becoming painful, oppressive. Nabonidos, thinking the old
man had forgotten his part at length said:
“It is now thy duty as chief priest to give the blessing of
the gods to the new king.”
The venerable chief priest, tall and majestic at all times,
drew himself to his fullest height and with arms folded across
his breast, gazed resolutely and fearlessly into his monarch's
face. He spoke in low, stern tones, as he said:
“I cannot.”
“Thou refusest unto my son the blessing of the gods?” ex-
claimed Nabonidos, too surprised for the moment to be angry.
“I refuse," answered the priest.
“What reason hast thou for such action?" asked the king.
“Because," said the priest, pointing dramatically to Belshaz-
zar, “thy son is not the lawful occupant of the Babylonish
throne. Sheshbazzar, the son of the murdered Evil-Merodach
lives and is now grown to manhood. He is by birth entitled to
reign as our king and upon him only can the blessing descend.”
The king turned ghastly white and clutched at the golden
railing for support. Again he was a victim of his terrible mis-
givings, which had been with him from the moment he decided
to raise his son to the kingly rank. Sheshbazzar! The name
Ih as our kim grown to son of the cupant of ally to Baling


LIO
RHESA
was a terror unto him and had been throughout all the years
of his reign. Now to hear from the lips of so powerful a man
as Neboakhu that this dreaded rival lived, seemed a knell to all
his ambitions. Against the priest, for the time being at least,
he felt no enmity. Always the most superstitious of men, Na-
bonidos feared this man as he feared no other on earth. Ne-
boakhu, from his long years of study had become an adept at
that magic so universally respected throughout the East.
Nabonidos could not for a moment entertain thoughts of re-
venge against this powerful priest whose bidding the very ele-
ments seemed to obey.
The old priest's rebellion brought consternation to another
beside the king. Nabomuran, standing well to the rear of the
company, heard his father's words and instantly there came into
his mind the story related by Rastagus upon the desert and the
vow then made. Tumultuous thoughts struggled within the
young man's mind. To be faithful to his vow meant rebellion
to his king and Nabonidos had always been kind to him. Yet
his venerable father whom he loved and revered had refused to
acknowledge Belshazzar, and should he fear to follow in that
noble man's footsteps?
Belshazzar, bewildered, stood looking absently first at his
father and then at the priest. The boy knew not the meaning
of the act. Even the noblemen, the privy council, stood as men
spell-bound, not knowing what to say or do. Vulmaran alone.
had presence of mind.
"What matters it, O King, if an old man, the weight of
whose years has already turned his brain, crosses thee?” he said.
"See, my sword is here. Say but the word and the blood of the
doting priest shall be a fit sacrifice with which to welcome a
new king."
Neboakhu looked upon the bully, a contemptuous smile upon
his thin expressive lips. The power of the will behind that
glance momentarily silenced the rab mag.
"As chief priest of Bel, I command all to leave this place !"
cried the old man.


THE INAUGURAL BANQUET
III
His commanding manner awed them for a moment and in-
voluntarily all took a step backward. That was sufficient. The
great curtains swiftly but noiselessly slid along the golden rods,
separating the priest from the company. The nobles, ashamed of
their weakness, grasped their swords and sprang forward, Vul-
maran in the lead. The moment the rab mag stepped within
the curtains he gave a scream of anguish and fell to the floor.
Another nobleman took him by the arm to raise him, and he
too screamed. The rest hesitated and stopped. The unseen
priest had called to his aid a mighty power whose existence was
known only to him and died with him to remain buried for
centuries. Only, years afterward, some priests in the temple
removed a copper plate that was embedded in the floor just inside
the curtains and found beneath it some curious apparatus con-
nected to the plate by rods of copper.
One by one the nobles advanced and bowed upon their knees
before Belshazzar, swearing allegiance unto him. All save
one! One member of the party stayed not to do homage. In
the confusion Nabomuran had slipped out and hurried away.
Soon the entire party left the shrine and began their long de-
scent.
CHAPTER XIII
THE INAUGURAL BANQUET
It is indeed unfortunate that the ruthless destruction of con-
querors and the fury of the elements have left us so few re-
mains of Babylon's magnificent palaces. With what joy would
the student walk through their stately halls and apartments,
feeling himself in the presence of the great men and women
who, twenty-five centuries ago, lived here in the flesh. In tread-
ing their pavements one could almost see Nebuchadnezzar and
his beautiful queen Amytis; in imagination he would see Daniel
standing in the great reception room explaining to the con-
through fint palaces. We left us 50m of con-


I 12
RHESA
the wall seem to see aeryOnec
queror his dreams, the Chaldeans standing impotently by, gazing
at the youthful Hebrew with jealous eyes. One could look out
of a window and in his imagination see in the garden below
Babylon's great ruler crawling upon all fours, nibbling at
the grass and shrubbery. One could visit the great banquet
hall and seem to see an uncanny hand as it moved slowly across
the wall, tracing words of fate, words whose terrible meaning
came true within the hour.
Isaiah foretold that "the glory of kingdoms, the beauty of
the Chaldees' excellency, shall be as when God overthrew
Sodom and Gomorrah," and the accounts of modern explorers
prove the message of the old prophet to have been inspired.
Babylon is literally “heaps" and such excavating as has been
done fails to throw much light upon the buildings of the
Golden City. From the accounts handed down to us by the
Jewish and Greek writers, however, we may believe the palaces
to have been magnificent, particularly the one used as a royal
residence at the time of our tale. With this as a foundation
stone, it is left to the romancer to erect thereon a building of
his own creation, but fancy is at best a poor substitute for
fact.
The day just closing, the one supreme day in the life of Bel-
shazzar the boy king of Babylon, was to witness one more
event in the coronation ceremonies, the great banquet in the
palace. Drunkenness and lasciviousness, twin vices, sons of
Death, were this night to hold sway. The two evils, not the
two kings, were sovereigns this night, and not in the palace
alone but throughout the city, for the great banquet would have
an hundred imitations in buildings less pretentious. When
Babylon celebrated all else was forgotten and from king to slave
all rolled in revelry.
For several days past vast preparations had been in progress,
all having as an object the filling of noble stomachs. An im-
mense retinue had been engaged in preparing all manners of
food and drink. Quantities of game and fruit had been arriv-
ing in the city for two or three days past. All varieties of


THE INAUGURAL BANQUET
113
beast, bird and fish to be found in or near the valleys of the
Euphrates and Tigris were on hand in prodigal abundance.
Large skin bottles of grape wine brought all the way from the
sunny slopes of Armenia were piled high in the vaults beneath
the palace. All butchering and dressing had been done without
the city walls and the meat delivered at the palace kitchens
ready for the fire.
One entire corner of the building was given up to the culin-
ary department of the royal establishment. Here an army of
cooks, bakers and confectioners vied with one another to see
who could best tickle the palates of kings and nobles.
Within the palace another force had been engaged in dec-
orating and making ready the banquet hall. No stone was
left unturned that would make this banquet a landmark in the
history of such events. The scene at the palace differed from
that in an hundred other places in stupendousness alone. All
over the city other cooks prepared feasts for the stomachs of
lesser men.
By the time darkness had settled down upon the city the
guests began to arrive. The scene at the palace entrance was
one of the greatest animation and beauty. Gaily decorated
chariots, drawn by prancing horses, passed through the three
gates, wide open to-night, in a continuous stream. One by one
they rolled up the inclined plane to the top of the palace mound
and deposited their gorgeously attired occupants at the great
arched doorway of the building. Here a long line of care-
fully selected servants awaited the guests. As a man entered
the major-domo of the palace examined his credentials and,
finding him worthy to sit at meat with royalty, handed him over
to a servant who attended him.
Only a few moments before the hour set for the banquet,
the simple chariot of Nabomuran drew up before the entrance
and the young commander alighted. He was passed by the
officer and given into the charge of a servant who led him into
a small apartment opening out of the banquet hall and assisted


114
RHESA
him in arranging his attire. A moment later his attendant
ushered him into the great hall itself.
The scene that met his gaze was one of great brilliancy and
beauty. The vast apartment, forty feet broad and one hun-
dred feet in length, was one mass of light and color. Through
the center of the hall ran the banquet table, its golden and silver
vessels reflecting the light from a thousand lamps. Upon their
shining surfaces the rays danced and shone as from a myriad
of gems. Beautiful flowers in great abundance were heaped up
in pyramids upon the table and scattered about in every con-
ceivable space. All that man's skill could do had been done
toward adorning the hall. Nabomuran stopped on the thresh-
old and gazed in admiration upon the scene before him. He
was one of the late arrivals, and the hall was now crowded
with men, some moving about and others standing in groups, all
anxiously awaiting the serving of the feast.
At the farther end of the hall upon a raised platform stood
two thrones, both constructed on the same elaborate plan and
both ornamented in the same manner. Here side by side sat
the two kings of Babylon. Directly in front of them at the
head of the table stood two chairs of exquisite workmanship.
These the monarchs were to occupy when the banquet was
served. Nabomuran walked slowly up the hall and paid his
respects, first to Nabonidos and then to Belshazzar. Both mon-
archs received him graciously. He had felt doubts as to his
reception, anticipating the king's anger for his father would
extend to him also, but if either monarch entertained such
thoughts they were carefully concealed.
Soon after he left the monarchs' station they descended from
the platform and took their places at the table. This was a
signal for the guests to seek their places. Then all was ready
for the banquet to begin. Negro servants, clad in gay attire,
hastened into the room bearing great dishes containing viands
for the feast. Course followed course until it seemed as if
mortal stomach could hold no more. Every dish known at
that day had a place upon the menu and the Babylonians were


THE INAUGURAL BANQUET
115
Pled
upon the hosperity of the Farest Armenii aloft a go
the possessors of a variety of food. At length the last course
was served and speedily devoured. All dishes were then re-
moved and the table cleared preparatory to the entry of the
wine.
In came a band of slaves carrying huge vessels filled with
wine. Behind them came a company of musicians accompanied
by singing and dancing girls. The nobles lay back in their
seats waiting for the more enjoyable portion of the program.
The musicians began their labors and the slaves passed rapidly
along the table filling the goblets of the guests. When all were
filled a signal from the chief eunuch stopped the music. The
subtle rag mag, Vulmaran, arose and, holding aloft a golden
goblet filled to the brim with the rarest Armenian wine, pledged
the health and prosperity of the new king, calling down con-
fusion upon the heads of his enemies foreign and domestic.
Pledge followed pledge until the danger of the banquet be-
coming a mere drunken revel was imminent. Nabonidos, feel-
ing his own brain succumbing to the insidious alcohol, gave or-
ders to the musicians and singers to begin their part of the enter-
tainment. The band struck up a lively air and three beautiful
female slaves arose to dance before their masters.
They threw off the light shawls that had been wrapped about
them as they entered the room and now stood before the com-
pany of men naked from the waist up, and the lower portion
of their bodies covered only with a short skirt that barely
reached to the knees. Beginning with a slow, undulating move-
ment they swayed back and forth, to this side and that, their
feet stationary and their arms, waving gracefully in the air,
keeping time to the movements of their bodies. Gradually the
music became faster and faster and the movements of the
dancers became more wild and abandoned. Now in addition
to the swaying of their bodies and waving of their arms the
lower limbs were brought into play. Faster and faster the
music rolled from the instruments and faster and faster
whirled the dancers. Round and round they spun, becoming
more frenzied each moment. The guests cheered them on, but


116
RHESA
at last they became exhausted and reeled from sheer dizziness.
They were caught in the arms of three of the younger nobles
who had crowded about them in anticipation of the moment.
The three fortunate ones carried their fair burdens to the table
and poured wine down their throats.
A beautiful Armenian girl arose and in a musical, sympa-
thetic voice sang a love tale of her native mountains. Another
maiden followed with a song of similar style. She in turn
gave place to three more dancers who followed the same move-
ments of their predecessors and were in turn carried away by
three more nobles. Four sets of dancers thus performed before
the company, and twelve young men each had a damsel seated in
his lap at the table. Meanwhile the drinking continued. Bel-
shazzar already showed unmistakable signs of intoxication and
many others about the board were little better.
For Nabomuran the scene had little charm. His heart was
filled with love for one pure woman and the sight of these
lewd, abandoned girls parading their nearly naked bodies be-
fore two hundred men filled him with disgust. He was no
wine-bibber. The flowing cup had little attraction for him,
although he drank moderately upon occasion. He sat beside
the table, leaning back in his seat, his eyes half closed and his
thoughts far away. While meditating upon the lives of the
men about him and the menace they were to the nation, he felt
a slight touch upon his shoulder.
He turned quickly and saw one of the leading servants of
the royal household standing behind him. The man leaned
over and slipped a small roll of parchment into his hand. Open-
ing the roll he read thereon the following message, indited in
well-formed cuneiform characters.
"Come to me at once. I desire to speak with thee upon im-
portant matters. The bearer will lead thee to my apartments.
“NITOCRIS.”
Nabomuran made a hasty survey of the apartment and its
occupants. All attention was fastened upon a Grecian maiden
the table, leaning k moderately upon ocche attraction


IN THE QUEEN'S APARTMENTS
117
who was relating in a singsong tone some old Hellenic love
tale. The soldier arose quietly and followed the servant out
of the room. He was unnoticed save by a single pair of eyes.
Vulmaran saw the incident and stored it up in the secret
archives of his brain for future use.
CHAPTER XIV
IN THE QUEEN'S APARTMENTS
After leaving the banquet hall the servant conducted Na-
bomuran through a very labyrinth of rooms and passages until
they reached the suite set aside for the use of Babylon's queen.
After motioning the soldier to enter the first room in the suite
the servant withdrew. The soldier entered and looked about.
The room was unoccupied. He seated himself upon a handsome
divan and surveyed the apartment. It was a fit habitation for
the foremost woman of the world. All that art and wealth
could do toward adornment had been done. The bare brick
walls were hidden beneath the richest draperies. Scenes of
beauty were woven into the hangings with brightly hued
threads. The heavy golden fringe of the tapestry swept the
hard brick floor of the apartment.
Divans covered with the most beautiful and costly Oriental
rugs and supplied with numberless downy pillows piled high
upon them, were scattered here and there about the room, while
heavy fuiniture adorned with trimmings of gold was standing
about in a seeming disorder that was the very height of artistic
order. Every piece of furniture, every rug and pillow, every
ornament testified to the presence of a woman, and a woman of
the most artistic, refined taste. Notwithstanding the stateli-
ness of the apartment, it had an intangible air of comfort about
it, a lack of stiffness that seemed to make a guest feel at home
therein.
As Nabomuran sat there waiting, hardly knowing what to


118
RHESA
him nervous. hably be his punish. Remembering
the felt reassured. Should an enemy porable que
expect, a thought of his position came over him. What if he
had been lured there for treacherous reasons ? There was some-
thing so unusual about the manner of his coming. What fate
would be his if he were found in the queen's apartments? Specu-
lation made him nervous. Should his presence be known to
Nabonidos death would probably be his punishment, for in this
room no man was allowed save the king alone. Remembering
the present condition of the king and his occupation, however,
he felt reassured. Then also, there was the high reputation of
Nitocris herself. Should an enemy plot against him he could
not secure the co-operation of the honorable queen.
He heard a slight rustle at the farther end of the room and
looked up quickly. Two maidens were holding open the heavy
draperies that screened the entrance to the queen's private apart-
ment. A soft step was heard upon the floor, and in another
moment Nitocris stood before him. Tall and majestic, she was
every inch a queen. Her every movement was one of the great-
est grace and dignity, her every act one of prudence and wis-
dom. Her name is well entitled to a prominent place in the
list of the world's historic women. In the eyes of the soldier
she seemed a goddess approaching to accept the homage of a
devotee.
She advanced slowly and when directly before him she took
him by the hand and bade him arise. He obeyed and she con-
ducted him to one of the many divans. She seated herself and
requested him to sit beside her. She turned half around upon
the divan so that she looked directly into his face as she talked.
She lost no time, but plunged directly into the subject upper-
most in her mind.
“I doubt not, Nabomuran, thou art surprised at being thus
summoned to thy queen's apartments at such an hour, but never
will I have a better opportunity to converse with thee than now,
when the king and his nobles are filling their stomachs with
wine and their eyes with lewdness. I have something of great
importance to say to thee, important to thyself and important
to Babylon. Before I enter upon that subject, however, I will


IN THE QUEEN'S APARTMENTS
119
relate to thee briefly the story of my life, a life combining
heights of happiness with depths of misery."
The soldier was interested and listened intently for what
might follow.
"Thou knowest my name and thou knowest me as the wife
of two kings of Babylon, but my early life is little known here.
“I am the daughter of Amasis, king of Egypt. I am now
forty-four years of age. I should be in the very prime of my
life, but, Nabomuran, misery has made me old. I am in the
clutches of a disease that is slowly, but O so surely, sapping
my life and strength. I may live five years or I may live ten;
it matters little to me, save that I have one object to accomplish
before death claims me. That object I intend to make known
unto thee this night.
“The heart that now beats within my breast little resembles
that of the seventeen-year-old girl who more than twenty-six
years ago bestowed it upon Evil-Merodach, the handsome and
noble Prince Royal of Babylon. The prince came on a visit
to my father's court, a visit intended to restore good feelings
between Egypt and Babylon and also as a journey of education
for the young prince. Upon this visit the prince was attended
by the same body-guard thou now commandest. I had been
sought by many noble young men, both from Egypt and the ad-
jacent countries, but my father had given me the right to choose
my own husband, and I had determined that where my hand
went there should my heart go also. Therefore I rejected one
after another of these suitors. When, however, the prince of
Babylon arrived I at once beheld in him a man whom I could
love. When, scarcely three weeks later, he asked me to become
his princess, my heart was his, and—” dropping her voice, “he
was the only man I ever loved.
“I will not burden thee with a long tale but will only state
the barest facts. I married him and accompanied him back to
Babylon. We took up our residence in the royal palace where
a sumptuous suite of rooms had been prepared for our use.
This room is a part of that same suite but its charm is gone. We


120
RHESA
had been married a trifle less than four years when the old king
died and my husband mounted the throne. Less than a year
later the gods blessed us with a child, a boy. All Babylon re-
joiced at having an heir for the throne, but my poor boy never
came into his birthright. We watched the growth of the child
with love and interest, in our pride looking forward to the day
when, as king of Babylon, he should extend his empire's sway
into all parts of the earth. Alas for our fond hopes! Before
my babe learned to walk or his tongue learned to call me
'mother' a conspiracy was formed and my husband was foully
murdered. My child was included in the schemes of the as-
sassins but the timely interference of a Jewish slave girl saved
his life. She gave up her own babe that the Prince of Babylon
might live. Her child was murdered but the heir of Nebuchad-
nezzar was saved and is to-day alive.
“After the king's death I took up my abode in a small house
outside the inner wall. Here, after I had been a widow six
months, I gave birth to my second child, a daughter. She it is
who is known to thee and to Babylon as Halista, the king's
niece. Thanks be to Bel, none of the base blood of Nabonidos
flows in her veins. It is the noble blood of Nebuchadnezzar
and Amasis that, mingled in her, gives majesty to her figure and
beauty to her face. Nabonidos upon marrying me insisted on
her being known as his niece and not as Evil-Merodach's daugh-
ter. Think, sir, what that meant to a mother! Never since
her babyhood have I been permitted to clasp that sweet creature
to my bosom and call her daughter. She loves me, 'tis true, but
O, how I long to tell her all and hear her call me, 'mother'.
"But it is not of Halista I would speak with thee. It is of
my son, my first born I would speak, Nabomuran.” She hesi-
tated a moment and placed her hand upon his shoulder, look-
ing straight into his eyes. "Wouldst thou support this man were
he to assert his claims and seek to win his inheritance ?"
"Know, O Queen, I have already sworn to do so," he an-
swered.
He then related to her his meeting with Rastagus upon the


IN THE QUEEN'S APARTMENTS
121
desert and the strange tale narrated by the Mede, closing with
the vow he had there made. The queen listened attentively, be-
coming more and more agitated as he proceeded. When he had
finished speaking she burst forth, no longer able to control the
feelings that mastered her.
"As thou hast made that vow, Nabomuran I am free to in-
form thee, thou art the man! Thou art the Lost Prince! Thou
art my son, Sheshbazzar! Thou, not Belshazzar shouldst have
been crowned this day.”
"Oh my son, my son!” she exclaimed, encircling him with
her bare shapely arms, “thanks be to Bel, I am at last permitted
to clasp thee in my arms and call thee son.”
They sat silent for some moments, the mother happy in the
possession of her son, the son lost in amazement at the revela-
tion made to him and electrified by the caresses of so beautiful
a woman. He could hardly believe it true. He, Nabomuran,
king of Babylon? A sudden feeling of wrong and injustice
came over him. His eyes flashed and he leaped from the divan,
crying:
“Who will follow Sheshbazzar? Who will help wrest the
throne from the usurper ?”.
"Hush,” said the queen, "the very walls of this building have
ears."
He resumed his seat beside the queen and relapsed into silence.
Wild thoughts presented themselves to his feverish brain,
thoughts of rebellion and success. Yet there was ever present
a dull, indefinable sense of helplessness. As a soldier he fore-
saw the obstacles in the pathway leading to the throne. Could
he convince the people of his rights? Would the army side
with him or would they take the part of Nabonidos? He re-
mained silent, absorbed, yet ever conscious of the queen's gaze
fixed upon his face. At length he turned to her and asked:
“What wouldst thou have me do, my queen?”
"I cannot advise as to details, my son, but I believe it is thy
duty to win thy throne, but there must be no bloodshed."


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RHESA
"Impossible,” he interrupted. "No great end was ever
reached without some sacrifice.”
She grew sad.
"O my son,” she said, “mine eyes have seen so much of war
and blood. I cannot think of thy throne being won over dead
men's bodies but I suppose thou art right. The good hereafter
justifies the bad at present. I beg thee, though, go slowly. Let
there be no murder. Remember that Belshazzar is also my
son and thy half-brother. True my hatred of his libertine
father descends upon the son but I am yet his mother and I
would not have him harmed. Thou, Sheshbazzar, art a man
pure and noble, worthy to sit upon thy father's throne. Thy
half-brother is weak and effeminate. Thou art a soldier accus-
tomed to camps and warfare. He is a boy, happy only in the
palace surrounded by dancing and singing creatures, whom my
lips almost refuse to mention.
“My son, I am a pure woman. I have never visited the tem-
ple of Beltis. I have always used my foreign birth as an argu-
ment against my going through the ordeal. Be thou also pure.
Let not thyself be lured into the follies of this wicked city.
Beware of women. I have heard them whisper of thy manly
beauty, but hearken not thou to their voices. Answer me one
question. Dost thou love?”
The prince, as he must now be called, started at the ques-
tion; it was so unexpected. He hesitated a moment and then
answered calmly:
“Yea, my queen.”
“Upon whom does the love of Sheshbazzar descend?”
"Orma, the daughter of Nehum, a leader among the Jews.”
“A Jewess!” she exclaimed.
“Yea, a Jewess, the fairest and purest of her race. To see
her is to love her.”
"I doubt it not. Many of her race are both beautiful and
good, but think my son; would she be an acceptable queen to
the Babylonian people ?”


'TWIXT LOVE AND RELIGION
123
“That I know not but if I am to be king the woman I love
shall be my queen, whatever her nationality.”
The queen sighed as she answered:
"I hope some day to see thy princess.”.
A few moments later he left the apartment.
CHAPTER XV
TWIXT LOVE AND RELIGION
From the palace Nabomuran, or Sheshbazzar, as he must now
be called, hurried to his home and immediately sought his couch,
but little sleep did he obtain. The revelation of the queen
completely revolutionized his aim in life. Youth loves power
and no young man could well resist the sensation of elation that
was bound to come when he found himself suddenly trans-
formed from a mere officer in the nation's army to a royal
prince and even more than that, the lawful king. Aside from
any personal feelings, however, he considered it a duty he owed
his ancestry to win his rights. With a brain filled with such
thoughts it was not strange that he found sleep hard to win,
but toward morning his weariness triumphed over his mind
and he fell into a deep slumber that lasted until far into the
day.
He appeared at the breakfast table long after his worthy
father (foster-father hereafter) had partaken of his morning
meal and left for the temple. The prince ate in silence, his
thoughts still dwelling upon his new position and its respon-
sibilities. He regretted his father's absence as in his present
mood he felt the need of an adviser and a confidant and no one
could take the old priest's place in that respect. Now as he
thought of Neboakhu he wondered why he had not made the
revelation. Inquiry of a servant brought the information that
Neboakhu would not be at home until evening. It was the


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RHESA
day for the annual conferring of degrees upon the priesthood
and a large class of young men was to be elevated to the lowest
order of priesthood, with a corresponding promotion in other
degrees.
Involuntarily the prince's mind dwelt upon Nehum and the
old man's evident wisdom. As a Jew, having no interest in
the present government, he could not only be trusted as a con-
fidant but his advice would be entirely unbiased. As soon there-
fore as his simple meal was finished, he called for his chariot
and was driven rapidly to the old Jew's residence. He no-
ticed with surprise the comparative quiet of the city streets,
few persons and they only of the lowest classes, being abroad.
Babylon had not recovered from her all night debauch.
Upon his arrival at the residence of Nehum, Sheshbazzar
passed around the house and through the gardens to the vine-
clad bower that held so precious a place in his life. Orma was
seated within the bower, with little Ruth by her side. She was
busily engaged upon some difficult needlework and all her
attention was devoted to her task. For some seconds she was
unconscious of the presence of her lover, but the magnetism of
his ardent gaze soon caused her to look up. When she beheld
Sheshbazzar a quick blush mounted to her cheeks.
She arose instantly and advanced to meet him, leaving her
needlework in a disordered heap upon the couch. One tiny
hand she held out to him in welcome. The soldier grasped it
and quickly dropping upon one knee, carried it to his lips.
"Thou art welcome here, Captain," she said after he had
arisen.
"I felt sure of a welcome; thou art always kind to me,” he
said simply.
She returned to the couch and he seated himself upon a low
stool at her feet. After his first remark he said nothing for
some moments. Orma's quick perception revealed to her the
disquietude of his mind and it worried her, she thinking it
concerned Heber. She at last broke the silence, which was
now becoming oppressive.


'TWIXT LOVE AND RELIGION
125
"Thou art troubled in spirit, sir. Thou shouldst not be
after the stirring scenes of yesterday,” she said.
“The doings of yesterday but add to my burden, and make
more difficult the task before me,” he answered.
Her intuition now showed her that Heber was not in his
thoughts.
“I should like to speak with thy father and thyself concern-
ing matters of importance. Can he not join us here?” he con-
tinued.
Ruth was instantly dispatched to summon the old man. Dur-
ing the interval which elapsed between her departure and the
arrival of Nehum, they sat silently, she leaning back dreamily,
her eyes half closed and 'he intently regarding the ground at
his feet. When Nehum came he was not alone. His com-
panion was none other than the great prophet of Israel, Daniel.
Both men extended a hearty greeting to the young man. Nehum
seated himself beside the daughter and Daniel took the stool
vacated by Ruth, who after calling her master had not returned.
"As Daniel happens to be my guest to-day I took the liberty
of bringing him hither,” said Nehum.
“I rejoice at his being present," replied the prince. “Know-
ing his wisdom and his knowledge of our history I am sure his
advice will be of value to me.”
“I shall be honored if my poor advice can be of service to
thee,” said the prophet.
Without wasting time in preliminaries, Sheshbazzar plunged
directly into his narrative, beginning with the story related by
Rastagus and closing with the queen's revelation of the pre-
ceding night. His account was simple and straightforward, and
told in the third person. The eyes of his auditors were fastened
upon him throughout the recital, his own gaze resting first upon
one and then another but usually upon Orma. She leaned upon
her father's shoulder, her hands clasped and her eyes fastened
intently upon the speaker. As the narrative progressed and she
realized her lover to be the lawful king of this great empire
a feeling partaking of both awe and veneration came over her.


126
RHESA
She saw more clearly than ever before how large a place this
man occupied in her heart and life, but she also saw the bar-
riers between them grow to seemingly insurmountable propor-
tions.
When Sheshbazzar had finished speaking he looked from one
to another of the group in expectation of some remark. Orma,
true to her womanliness remained silent, her eloquent eyes alone
telling the prince her interest both in the tale and its narrator.
Nehum motioned to Daniel that he was expected to offer the
first comment. The prophet obeyed.
"Our Father has laid a heavy burden upon thee, young man,
and my poor wisdom does not enable me to advise thee at this
time. Only God, the Supreme, the Omniscient can guide thee."
“Thy story is not entirely new to me,” he continued. “I
well remember the rumors of thy rescue that were current at
the time. I knew personally the priest who received thee and
that he rose to be chief priest I also knew. For many years I
have suspected that if Sheshbazzar were really alive thou wert
the man. I was surprised to learn from thee upon the occasion
of our first meeting that thou considered Neboakhu thy father.
When it comes to advising thee as to thy future action I know
not what to say. Our people believe the prophesied destruction
of this great city to be at hand and believe also that it will
result in our deliverance from captivity. Thou mayest be the
man destined by God to deliver us, but our prophecies all point
to the Persian, Cyrus. Be not hasty. Take time to consider
well before acting.”
"In thy narrative," said Nehum when the prophet had fin-
ished, "thou saidst the Mede had sworn to assist the Lost Prince
when he should rise to claim his own. Shalt thou seek his assist-
ance ?"
"I have thought upon that point, but I fear were I to ask
his aid it would bring the Persians here. Rastagus would un-
doubtedly keep his vow but I fear it would end in my kingdom
being swallowed up in that of Cyrus."
"Wisely spoken," commented Daniel.


'TWIXT LOVE AND RELIGION
127
The prophet now arose to depart.
"I will bear thee in mind,” he said addressing Sheshbazzar,
"and mayhap I can advise thee more later."
“Thy advice will always be of value to me," said the prince.
Daniel departed but Nehum remained, merely nodding a
farewell to his guest. When they were alone Sheshbazzar
broached a new topic.
"When I gain my throne, sir, I hope thy daughter may be-
come queen of Babylon,” he said.
The old man was visibly affected and Orma, blushing, hid
her face in her father's robe.
“I know not, Prince," the old man replied. “I am not am-
bitious for my daughter. I would be happy in seeing her mar-
ried to the man she loved. That she cares for thee I cannot
deny, but as to her marrying thee I cannot well decide. We
owe thee an everlasting debt of gratitude for our preservation
and I honor thee above all thy race. It is hard for me to think
of my daughter as the wife of one of thy people, but I could
see it and be happy didst thou both worship the same God.
"I hoped and prayed that the Captain of the Guard might
learn to see our God as we see Him but when that captain be-
comes the king it seems almost an impossibility. Still, Prince,
thy struggle may be the means of bringing thee to see Him as
we see Him, the One Supreme Being."
During this speech Orma had glanced nervously from her
father to the prince and then back at her father again. She
was fearful of its effect upon the fiery temper of the Baby-
lonian. She was pleased, therefore, to see him smile when her
father finished speaking. He did not at once reply to Nehum
but relapsed into that thoughtful silence so characteristic of
the man. As he remained communing with his own thoughts the
smile vanished and in its place there came an expression of dis-
pleasure.
At length he spoke. The answer he made was both satis-
factory and unsatisfactory to the old Jew, paradoxical as that
may seem. It was satisfactory in showing the superiority of
otain of an that cap. Prince


128
RHESA
his religious belief to that of the blind idolater and unsatisfac-
tory in showing how the prince clung to his belief.
“Good Nehum,” he began slowly, “I have heard thy words;
I appreciate thy motives; I honor thy beliefs. Thou lookest
upon me as a worshiper of idols a: 1 in that thou doest me in-
justice. In my heart I believe thy Jehovah to be my Bel. Deep
in the nature of every man there exists a belief in a Supreme Be-
ing, who rules the world, controls the affairs of men and empires,
holds us in His hands and directs our lives to suit His plans.
"When thou kneelest with thy face toward Jerusalem thou
art as much kneeling to an image as am I when I kneel to the
golden statue of Bel. Thou knowest Jerusalem is not Jehovah
and I know that golden image is not Bel but we bow to them
as symbols of that Supreme Being whom we both worship,
though bestowing upon Him different names and attributes. I
have heard of thy people worshiping thy God in a great tem-
ple. I have seen that temple in its present condition and as
I stood upon a large block of marble gazing down upon the
crumbled mass at my feet I felt sad, as if the temple of mine
own god was in ruins. There was no God in those broken
marble blocks, yet all Jews pray with their eyes turned toward
that mass of ruins.
“True it is many of the ignorant among my people see no
farther than the golden image but men who have thought and
studied about their religion see beyond that shrine upon the
temple's summit, see beyond that golden statue and behold the
Omniscient, the All Ruling One, who made this earth, peopled
it and now rules it. In my heart of hearts, O Nehum, I can
see thy daughter and myself walking side by side in the world
to come if thou deniest us that happiness in this world.”
The old Jew had been an interested listener. He took no
offense at the young man's words. He saw of course oppor-
tunities for argument, weak places in the Babylonian's defense
but he was loath to debate with him. He felt the force of the
young man's logic, was susceptible to the influence of his words
no less than to the magnetism of the speaker. Yet the speech


'TWIXT LOVE AND RELIGION
129
caused the good old man pain. It showed satisfaction with the
present; no unsatisfied yearnings after better and higher things.
It showed a religious belief stern and unbending. Had Baby-
lonian worship included human sacrifice, Nehum felt that
this man would have upheld and defended it. Upon one point,
however, he was determined to hear the young man speak.
“What sayest thou to the manner of worshiping Beltis, the
wife of him thou callest Bel?” he asked.
It was plain to see that the prince was greatly agitated at
the question. He arose and paced nervously back and forth
within the enclosure, his face twitching with emotion and his
hands clenched. Nehum feared that he had committed an error
in asking the question he knew full well to be difficult of an-
swering, but he wished to hear the young man's opinion of this,
the most degrading form of worship connected with the Baby-
lonian religion. Sheshbazzar was not angry. He despised this
peculiar rite himself and his present agitation was caused by his
realization of the impossibility of defending it. He was de-
termined, however, to say something and at length he made
answer.
“Good Nehum,” he began, “I wish no ears but thine were
present to hear what I have to say but I crave thy daughter's
pardon, assuring her that my words spring from a pure mind.
This ceremony of which thou speakest, like all parts of our
worship, was intended to teach a great truth. It was intended
to show man's insignificance as compared with the gods. For
a woman to sacrifice her greatest possession, her chastity, would
impress upon her the supremacy of the gods and the littleness
of humanity. Only once a lifetime is a woman obliged to go
through this ceremony. Many of our foremost women have
rebelled against this worship and I firmly believe it will soon
be abolished. My mother, Nitocris, on the strength of her
Egyptian birth has steadfastly refused to submit to this form
of her adopted faith. My sister, Halista, who next to thy
daughter is the fairest woman in Babylon has not yet sub-
mitted although gossip has it the priests have notified her of


130
RHESA
her duty. As long as her brother has life and strength she never
shall. I trust my words are acceptable, good Nehum.”
The old man had listened to the words attentively. He
saw the deep sincerity beneath each word and he realized more
than ever before the personal purity of the man. No listener
could fail to note the deep loathing that the prince had for the
custom he attempted to defend.
It was impossible that Orma, born and reared in the great
city, could have lived in ignorance of the custom. Her attitude
during her lover's speech had been one of true modesty. She
leaned upon her father's shoulder with her gaze fixed upon the
floor of the bower, yet the young man had been conscious of
an occasional fleeting glance from a pair of black eyes. At his
placing her beauty before Halista's she looked up suddenly,
blushing with mingled pleasure and embarrassment. Now that
he had finished the speaking of words she cared not to hear
she straightened up and looked upon him calmly...
"Prince," said the old man, “thy words show me how deep
and true is thy nature and how pure thy life. Thou art worthy
of my daughter and I consider her worthy of thee. Her birth
is high; in her veins flows the best blood of Judah; her ances-
tors were mighty men in our once proud kingdom. Sir, when
thou choosest Jehovah as thy Ruler, in that hour will I place
her hand in thine and bid thee take her as thy wife.
"Worthy Nehum," replied the prince, “thy opinion of me
is most flattering. I appreciate thy words, but noble sir, greatly
as I love thy daughter, I should prefer to see her face no
more, to walk through this short life a lonely man, rather than
pretend a change in my religion that I did not feel. I am to
understand then that until I desert the religion of my people I
must be a stranger to thy daughter ?”
“I think it best,” replied the old man solemnly.
"Words cannot express the regret I feel,” exclaimed Nehum,
rising and grasping the hands of the prince. “I love thee as a
son and would gladly welcome thee as the husband of my


'TWIXT LOVE AND RELIGION
131
daughter, but sir, thy married life could never be happy with
thee an idolater and she a worshiper of Jehovah.”
The brow of the Babylonian darkened. The word ‘idolater
sounded harsh upon his ears and the first feeling of resentment
came over him. He quickly overcame it and in a moment was
able to speak calmly.
"I cannot see the necessity for thine action, sir," he said,
"but as a man of honor I shall abide by thy decision. Yet I
firmly believe when two persons love purely and sincerely the
gods, call them by what name ye choose, will open the way for
them. The time has now arrived for me to depart."
“May the blessings of Jehovah rest upon thee, sir,” said the
old man.
Orma extremely pale but in perfect control of herself came
forward and offered her hand. The prince took her in his
arms and drew her toward him in one embrace.
"Farewell, thou dearest and fairest of women,” he whispered
as he kissed her upturned forehead.
"Farewell Prince," she murmured. “My father is right but
it is hard to bid thee go. Wherever thou art, remember the
love of Orma goes with thee and always when she prays will
she ask God to bless and keep thee.”
He still held her and she made no effort to disengage her-
self. Neither did the old man interfere. Orma suddenly
looked up into his face and asked:
“O sir, for my sake I beg thee to save my brother.”
“Thy brother, little one, is dear to me also and if I can in-
tercede for him I shall do so. Now farewell. Whether I fail
and die in a dungeon or win and reign as king, thy place in my
heart remains the same and none other can usurp it.”
He left the imprint of one more kiss upon her forehead.
Then, grasping the hand of Nehum, he bowed and was gone.
The old man followed a moment later. Orma finding her-
self alone threw herself upon the couch and gave way to the
grief that she had previously controlled so well.


132
RHESA
CHAPTER XVI
BENEATH THE EUPHRATES
Sad and oppressed, Sheshbazzar walked slowly down the path
to the road. His chariot was in waiting under the guidance of
Susa, who since his brief imprisonment by the Jews had lived
in a state of perpetual fear.
"To the palace,” said the prince as he entered the vehicle.
Susa eased his hold upon the reins and the noble bays sprang
forward, shaking their heads with delight at being again in
motion. Along the Borsipian road they flew, Sheshbazzar urg-
ing his driver to speed. They stopped at the old palace while
the prince inquired after the welfare of his wounded men.
Then on again, across the bridge and on to the palace. All
of the gates were open at this hour and the chariot passed
through, drawing up before the great portal of the royal resi-
dence.
Sheshbazzar being known to all the palace guards was allowed
to enter unquestioned. He hurried through the long halls lead-
ing to the rooms occupied by the king when engaged upon
matters of state. At the door he waited while a servant car-
ried his name to the king. He was bidden to enter at once. The
two kings occupied the new twin thrones. Before them stood
the rab mag Vulmaran and Ulbar, an ugly looking dwarf who
held the important position of chief spy to the king. Evidently
business of the greatest importance was being discussed.
The prince saw in a moment that something had happened to
undermine his standing with the elder monarch. Instead of
his usual gracious greeting Nabonidos acknowledged the young
man's presence by the merest nod, and then continued his con-
versation with Vulmaran. A servant was called up and given
some whispered instructions. He turned and hurried toward
the entrance. As he passed the prince, who was standing some
thirty feet from the thrones, he whispered hurriedly:


BENEATH THE EUPHRATES
133
"I beg thee sir, leave this place at once.”
Sheshbazzar paid no heed to the warning but remained stand-
ing in the same spot, waiting until the king should see fit to
receive him. Meanwhile the conference about the throne con-
tinued. Sheshbazzar noted the occasional glances cast in his
direction and coupling them with the whispered words of the
slave, he doubted not that he was the subject of the delibera-
tions. He decided, however, to stand his ground and await
the result of the consultation, never once dreaming of the fate
being decided for him.
At last, after the prince had been waiting at least a quarter
of an hour, Nabonidos raised his voice, saying: “Nabomuran
come hither and state thine errand.”
He advanced to the foot of the raised platform and in a tone
at once calm and self-assured, presented his request.
"I come, O King,” he said, “to intercede with thee for the
young Jew, Heber. The young man was led into the con-
spiracy he at last headed, by a woman who exerted over him a
strange power, a power that forced him to do her will even
against his own inclination. Knowing these circumstances, O
King, I feel myself justified in appealing to thee to spare his
life and grant him his liberty.”
“Our times are indeed degenerate," observed the king,
“when one traitor appeals for the life of another."
"What meanest these words from my king?" asked the
prince, astonished.
"What do I mean?” thundered the king. “Thou askest me
what I mean? I mean just what my words imply. Thou, who
deservest the death of a traitor, cometh hither to seek mercy
for one less guilty than thyself. The Jew shall not die, but by
the gods, Nabomuran thou shalt. Thy previous deeds and rank
but make thy present crime the more despicable, the more de-
serving of the fate we have decided to be thy just desert.”.
Sheshbazzar stood appalled at the king's words. So sudden
was this announcement that for a moment he failed to compre-


134
RHESA
hend its meaning. Then as the enormity of the accusation came
over him his knees weakened, and he turned ashen pale.
“Ha," cried Belshazzar, “his very face proves his guilt.”
Such words coming from the boy he had always loved, the
scholar he had been at such pains to teach, stung the prince to
anger. His indignation made a man of him again and he stood
before his accusers and judges, straight and calm, looking them
directly in the face.
“I demand to know the lying charges my dear and good
friend Vulmaran has brought against me,” he said coolly.
The rab mag turned white and red by turns. His own guilty
conscience bade him fear the man he accused. He was fright-
ened lest his own traitorous schemes were known to the prince.
“Vulmaran is a true and trusted servant of his king. Long
has he been suspicious of thy fidelity, Nabomuran, and ever care-
ful of his monarch's interest, he has had thine actions watched.
Therefore this morning he was able to expose thee completely,
to show his king how utterly false and treacherous was the man
upon whom that king had showered honors and for whom
greater honors were intended. Know thou, Nabomuran, that
among the honors to be distributed in celebration of our son's
coronation thou wert destined for the greatest. Upon thee was
to descend a rank never yet held by one so young. General of
our army would we have made thee. Already, in expectation
of thy advancement, we have signed a decree removing thee from
the command of our guard and promoting Belibus to that
post, intending next to sign the decree appointing thee to the
command of all the armies of Babylon. But now death, not
honor, must be thy share in our gifts. Thou hast none to blame
but thyself. Instead of waiting to receive the honors we in-
tended thou hast allied thyself with rebels and traitors, hoping
by thy influence over them to rise to power.”
The monarch paused for breath and the accused took this
occasion to say: "I demand to know fully the details of the
crime I am supposed to have committed.”
“It is our right, Nabomuran, to condemn thee unheard but


BENEATH THE EUPHRATES
135
the charges broccusation.”.trembling lest
because of the love we once bore thee we will give thee an
opportunity to explain all. Canst thou prove that Vulmaran
lied, he and not thee shall go to the drowning chamber. Greater
opportunity never had an accused man to free himself from
the charges brought against him. Vulmaran, stand forth and
deliver thine accusation."
The rab mag, inwardly trembling lest the prince should
accuse him also, stepped forward and repeated the information
he had previously given the king. He faced Nabonidos and
addressed him, not daring to speak directly to the man he ac-
cused and to look him in the face as he gave his lying testimony.
“Thou rememberest, O King, that the night this man reached
Babylon thou didst send me to summon him to thy presence.
After I greeted him he began asking questions concerning thee
and thy son, ending with this remark: 'Neither Nabonidos
nor Belshazzar is fit to be king of this great empire. I would,
Vulmaran, this man Sheshbazzar arose and led a successful
rebellion against the present government. I, for one, stand
ready to assist him.' This placed me upon my guard and from
that moment I have had him watched. His every movement
has been known to me.
“That night, King Nabonidos, thou didst order him to send
a messenger to Borsippa. Instead of choosing a trusty man
from among his father's servants, he selects this Jew (for whose
life he has this morning appealed) knowing full well the young
man's affiliations with the rebels. The night selected for the
Jews' attack this worthy captain, instead of being in the old
palace ready to lead his men, visits the house of this Heber's
father. As he starts to return, he is taken prisoner by his
own servant and carried to the headquarters of the con-
spirators. In some manner unknown to me he escaped in time
to reach the old palace after the battle was over and his Jewish
friends defeated. Without doubt, O King, it was his intention
to become their leader if they had won. As it was he arrived in
time to strike one blow for his king and thus for the moment
save his reputation.


BENEATH THE EUPHRATES
137
that I might make would avail to save me," replied the accused.
"Then thy fate be upon thine own head, Nabomuran. I
swear thy new name and rank influence me not; I have known
them for years,” replied the king.
The prince started. Could it be true? Nabonidos had
known of his royal rights for years? Ah no! He was sure the
monarch spoke falsely.
"King Nabonidos,” said the prince, “I am guilty of neither
intrigue nor conspiracy, but there are reasons why I cannot
explain to thee some of my actions during the past few days;
should I do so, innocent persons might suffer. Some day, O
King, thou wilt find the true traitor and I give thee in charge
to bestow the fate upon him thou hast planned for me."
“Nabomuran,” said the king, "I have loved thee as a son
and thine actions cause me more sorrow than anger, but in times
like these, when the empire is assailed by foes without and
traitors within, a sovereign cannot consult his personal feelings.
My duty as king therefore compels me to sentence thee to the
death meted out to all who prove false to their country.”
A stillness as of the tomb came over the room. Even Vul-
maran, whose plot was thus brought to a successful climax,
could but feel the solemnity of the moment. Belshazzar, a
coward in all things, leaned against the back of his throne,
white and trembling. Nabonidos, more self-controlled, was also
affected. Apparently the condemned man was the least con-
cerned of all. For several moments the strange stillness per-
vaded the room. Vulmaran was the first to return to the mat-
ter in hand.
"Here guards,” he called, "do thine office.”
Sheshbazzar turned and for the first time was aware of the
presence of a line of guards. They had entered silently and
were drawn up in line behind him. Their presence reminded
him of the servant who had warned him, and he concluded that
the man had then been on the way to call them.
These men, many of whom had served under the prince, were
now compelled to place their former commander under arrest.


138
RHESA
Duty is a worker of miracles and these men seized, bound and
blind-folded him apparently without the least compunction. In
this condition he was led from the room, through interminable
halls and passages, down long flights of stone steps and around
sharp corners. Damper and damper grew the atmosphere as
they progressed, revealing to the prisoner his whereabouts. He
was beneath the Euphrates. The full meaning of his sentence
came over him. As in the day of the Doges a journey across the
Bridge of Sighs was always in one direction, so the journey
through those long passages and down those rough steps from
Babylon's royal palace to her royal prison, had but one mean-
ing; but one fate was in store for the unfortunate who was led
through the labyrinth to the dungeon. Even could he burst
his prison door he could never find his way back to daylight.
Cunningly indeed had Nebuchadnezzar planned his dungeons.
Surely was he rid of an enemy when he saw him led away
through that first long passage which, though on the way to the
prison, in reality led away from it.
On, on went the prisoner blindly, led by his captors. At
length they stopped and held a whispered consultation. Then
the prisoner heard the creaking of a door. He was thrust into
the dungeon thus opened. His fetters and hoodwink were
removed and Babylon's rightful king was in her deepest dungeon.
CHAPTER XVII
AN OFFER OF LIFE
The dungeon into which the king of Babylon had thrown
the man by birth intended for that office was less than fifteen
feet square. Its cold brick walls were perpetually covered with
drops of water that oozed down through the river bed into the
prison beneath. The prince knew many such cells to lie about
him but no sound penetrated into his prison to tell him of fellow
beings in like situation.


AN OFFER OF LIFE
139
The furniture of the cell consisted only of a rough timber
bed covered with mattings of rushes and a small three-legged
stool. All comforts were lacking; only such articles as were
absolutely required to keep soul and body together were pro-
vided. Air and light, neither in sufficient quantities but more
of the former than the latter, were admitted through a number
of small holes piercing the heavy timber of the door. What a
habitation for a royal prince! Was it a Divine judgment that
a descendant of the great Nebuchadnezzar should occupy the
foul and lonely prison his grandsire's cunning had devised ?
After the great bar had been put in place and the prisoner
heard the retreating footsteps of the guard grow faint in the
distance, he threw himself upon the couch. As he lay there the
events of the past few days crowded before his eyes in a con-
fused medley. In one brief day he saw himself rise from a
soldier to a royal prince and then suddenly drop down into a
dungeon. He followed every incident of his life from the
moment he, at Jerusalem, had turned his horse's head toward
Babylon for the long journey across the desert, to the present
time.
As his mind dwelt upon the scene in the palace he was struck
with one fact, the clever ingenuity of Vulmaran who had taken
two or three comparatively trivial incidents and woven them
into a chain of evidence sufficient to condemn a man to death.
In his heart Sheshbazzar believed that Nabonidos placed little
credence upon the rab mag's charges but only accepted them as
affording him an opportunity of getting rid of the only man
who could dispute his title to the throne.
For several hours the prince lay thus a prey to his own fren-
zied thoughts until, wearied by the long reverie, oppressed by
the air of the dungeon and the realization of his coming terrible
death, his mind gave way. He burst forth in bitter impreca-
tions upon the gods.
"Oh Bel! Oh Merodach! Ye cruel gods! Ye whom I
have served so faithfully! Why hast thou forsaken me? Is it
thus ye repay the veneration and service I have always given


AN OFFER OF LIFE
141
his couch and now stood defiantly, ready to defend himself
should it be necessary.
“Who is it seeks to mar the solitude of my cell ?” he de-
manded.
"It is I, Vulmaran,” was the answer in smooth, oily tones.
“Hast thou come to taunt me on the success of thy villainies?”.
“Nay, Nabomuran," was the reply.
“My name is Sheshbazzar," corrected the prisoner with some
dignity.
“Sheshbazzar," continued the rab mag, smiling, “I am come
not to taunt, but to help; not to accuse, but to lead thee hence
a free man. Moreover I am come to offer thee my assistance
in winning thy father's throne.”
Vulmaran placed the lamp upon the stool and faced the
prisoner, smiling blandly but closely watching the man to see
the effect of his words. Sheshbazzar questioned the man's sin-
cerity and remained silent, his glance fixed upon the horrible
sight in the corner.
"Has a few hours' imprisonment so cowed thy brave spirit
as to destroy thy aspirations for royalty ?" inquired the rab mag.
“Nay Vulmaran, the events of the past few days have served
to reveal unto me the treachery of man. Only three days since
I rode into Babylon after a long and arduous journey. Hardly
had I arrived at home when I was visited by a man I have
always trusted. After giving me a welcome that I thought
genuine he delivered to me a message from the king. From that
moment that man has been my enemy, seeking to ruin me by
any means he could employ. His tongue has whispered lies
concerning me until the greatest lie of all lands me here in this
revolting place. Here he who once commanded thousands lies
alone, save for the filthy crawling creatures and the bones of
my unfortunate predecessor who, no doubt, was placed here at
the instance of the same deep-dyed villain who is responsible for
my incarceration.”
“Nay, nay, Sheshbazzar, call no names. Listen. Ambition
is a fault, if fault it is, common to mankind. No man however


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RHESA
humble or unworthy is denied its possession. Think not, O
Prince, the worm gnawing at thy vitals has no brothers? A
member of the same family has long been crawling, eating in
my own intestines. As thou well knowest, two former rab mags
of Babylon have made themselves king, once to the great dis-
comfiture of thy royal father. Is not Vulmaran as able a con-
spirator as Neriglissar or Nabonidos? Would he not fill a
throne as acceptably as either of them? If then I plotted for
mine own advancement, who would be a greater obstacle in my
path than thyself? Why should I not seek thy downfall if mine
own chances of success were thereby heightened? All life is
selfishness. Here in thy prison cell thou canst see yonder spider
swelling his ugly belly by sacrificing other insects.
"I am not here, however, to deliver an address upon the
weaknesses of mankind, but I am here to speak with thee upon
matters of importance to both of us. Believest thou that the
Jews themselves thought of rebellion ? Ah no. Vulmaran
whispered to them and they were fired with zeal, but they
quickly got beyond my control. The fools blundered and well
did they pay for their mistake. My first move was defeated
and I waited for my next. The refusal of the chief priest to
bless this baby king and his announcement of Sheshbazzar's
existence set me thinking. Vulmaran could not become king
with Evil-Merodach's son alive. Therefore Sheshbazzar must
die; but who is Sheshbazzar and where does he reside? How
easy to learn!
“A young man is called away from a banquet. He obeys the
summons and seeks the antechamber of the queen's apartments.
He seats himself upon a divan. Hidden in a curtain behind
the divan is a little maiden who obeys Vulmaran's every wish.
Words are spoken. The maiden has ears, yea, and a tongue
also, and the young man leaves not the palace ere Vulmaran
knows every word that was spoken. The identity of his mys-
terious rival is known; indeed, he has always had a suspicion
in that direction, knowing that Neboakhu was never married.
Next was to bring about that man's death. A weak monarch


AN OFFER OF LIFE
143
is clay in the hands of his ministers. Nabonidos falls into the
trap and condemns to death a man he loves more even, I believe,
than he does his own son. Oh, oh, of all the intrigues I have
planned, Prince, this was the easiest.”
“Easy because the subject of thy plans was not a villain like
thyself.”
The rab mag smiled derisively.
“Words are but poor weapons, Prince. Thou canst not slay
me with them,” he said.
"Fear not. My hands are too honest to be ever stained with
such vile blood as thine.”
"Fear!” exclaimed the rab mag. "What have I to fear?
Thou art unarmed while I have weapons and am attended.”
"Come Sheshbazzar," he said persuasively, “revile me not. I
am sent hither by the king to carry out thy sentence. I am here
to conduct thee to the drowning chamber. Have I not then
the power to slay thee? Have I not also the power to lead
thee into the light above? I am not here to kill thee, but to
save thee. I have a proposal to make unto thee."
"Since morning,” he continued, “I have thought much on
my plans for becoming king and I see many obstacles in my way.
Events are against me. I cannot even hope to retain my present
position for long. Other tongues than mine have been at work
and Nabonidos trusts not his rab mag as once he did. In time
will come my removal from office if not my death. I have
therefore a proposal to make unto thee. What thou couldst
not accomplish alone and what I cannot do alone, we can both
obtain by working together. I am here then to lead thee forth
from here and conduct thee without the city. Go thou into
the surrounding country and raise thine army. March upon
Babylon and surround it. Some dark night the friends of Vul-
maran will throw open the gates and Sheshbazzar will enter.
The rest is easily accomplished.”
"What is the price Vulmaran places upon his services ?” in-
quired the prisoner.
"My price is small,” answered the plotter. "Susiana to be


144
RHESA
independent of Babylon with Vulmaran as its king and Halista,
the sister of the victorious prince, to become the wife of Iddin,
son of the new king of Susiana.”
"Small!” cried the prince passionately. “Callest thou the
half of a kingdom and the honor and happiness of a good
woman, a small price for thy treachery to Nabonidos. Nay,
Vulmaran, 'thou canst not tempt me thus. If I mount my
father's throne I shall mount it with skirts clean of such mud
as thee."
“The drowning chamber then awaits thee,” cried the rab
, white with anger and called upon 1. Sheshbazzare
He opened the door and called upon the guard to enter. Not
one, but three men obeyed the call. Sheshbazzar eagerly
scanned their faces in search of a friend. Ah no! They were
Susianian slaves. The cunning rab mag dare trust no soldier
with this job but had brought three slaves from his own house-
hold, men trained to obey his every command.
They seized the prince but he threw them off. A terrible
struggle followed. He seemed possessed of a maniac's
strength and for some moments kept the three at bay, but it
availed him little. He was tripped and thrown, falling heavily
upon the damp floor of the dungeon, and before he could rise
his arms were pinioned and his ankles shackled. No time was
lost. As soon as he was completely within their power they
pushed him through the door and forced him along the short
passage leading from the corridor of the dungeons to the mys-
terious chamber of death, of whose terrors the victim had so
often heard.
Vulmaran threw open the door of the terrible room. Shesh-
bazzar peered in anxiously. It was apparently a simple dun-
geon. No instrument of death or torture could be seen. No
hint of the rumored terror was manifest. The only object to
be seen was a huge chair built of the stoutest timber. Hanging
from its back, its arms, its rounds were broad leather straps.
The prince of Babylon was forced into this chair. His fore-
head was strapped to the chair back, his arms to the chair arms


A FRIEND IN NEED
145
and his legs to the chair rounds. There was no swimming in
this chamber! While the slaves were binding him Sheshbazzar
made a hasty survey of the room. All he could see to indicate
its purpose was a circular opening, two feet in diameter, in the
ceiling on the side of the room opposite the chair. Through this
opening would the strange executioner enter. The prisoner was
in proper position.
Vulmaran picked up the lamp that the slaves had brought
into the room, and set it in a niche high up on the wall.
“I leave thee a light so that thou mayest see thy executioner
come. He will come slowly and thou mayest be interested in
watching him. Of course the water will put out the light but
by that time thou will not know darkness from light. Now
farewell, King of Babylon, may thy reign be long and pros-
perous," said Vulmaran as he backed slowly toward the door.
Upon the threshold he stopped and bowed obsequiously to
his victim. Then he closed and barred the great water-tight
door. He motioned to the slaves and they threw over the lever
that opened the flood gate. Within the chamber all was sil-
ent.
"Ah Father Euphrates," cried Vulmaran, "how kind thou
art to thus remove our enemies!”
CHAPTER XVIII
A FRIEND IN NEED
Not until the heavy door was closed and barred and Shesh-
bazzar found himself alone in the chamber of death, did the
full sense of his approaching torture and death come over him.
He sat motionless and rigid in the heavy chair, unable even to
move his head from side to side. Notwithstanding the
haste in which they worked, the slaves had performed their task
well. Save for the twitching of an eyelid he could not move a
muscle.


146
RHESA
The innocent looking opening in the ceiling entranced him.
Try as he would he could not prevent his gaze resting upon it.
He sat staring at the opening, momentarily expecting the ad-
vance guard of that flood which in a few brief but agonizing
moments would destroy his ambitions with his life. His
thoughts took a speculative turn.
"How long will it take the waters to reach my head?” he
asked himself.
He shuddered to think of the approaching agony and death,
to sit there powerless and watch the insidious waters as they
gradually, O so gradually, arose from foot to knee, to thigh, to
breast, to chin, to- He could not finish the scale. He
shook convulsively in anticipation of the sensation. What
agony it would be to watch and wait for the moment when
the treacherous water, having reached the level of his mouth,
mounted to his lip and the topmost particle wet his nose. An-
other moment and then would come the terrible gasping for
breath, the agony of suffocation. The thought was crazing;
each second seemed a millennium. In his torture he began to
cry out.
"Curses on thy head, Vulmaran! Cursed, cursed be ye!
May the gods visit thee with eternal agony. King of Susiana,
thou! Halista, thy daughter-in-law! Never! Rather this a
thousand times.”
“O ye gods,” he cried after a brief pause. “Prolong not my.
agony. Send the water now and send it quickly. End this sus-
pense, this agony. Take me to thyselves and let me live with
thee.”
"O Orma, my love, my love. Never more will I look into
those dark eyes and see within myself enthroned. Remember
me kindly, my loved one."
He fell to thinking of the Jewess and wondering how long
before she would hear of his fate, if ever. As he thought of
the days of suspense in store for his friends, it made him sad.
He thought of the old man who for so long had been the only
father he had ever known. Would any seek to avenge his


A FRIEND IN NEED
147
death? Suddenly he heard a strange scratching noise up in the
pipe.
"What is that I hear in the pipe?" he cried. "Oh, the water
is coming. Merodach, save me! Save me, Bel! Why doesn't
the water come? Do they wait to make my agony the more
intense? What is that? A foot! Two legs! A body! Thou
Ulbar, art thou come to torment me in my suffering?"
The cause of the strange noise in the pipe was now apparent.
Ulbar, the diminutive chief spy, had scrambled down through
the opening and now stood before the prince.
“Leave me alone in my agony,” cried the half-crazed man.
"Nay, O Prince, Ulbar comes as a friend; comes to undo
the damage that he was forced to do by those above him. He
alone of all the men in Babylon could save thee. This place
is under his charge and he only knows its secret workings. Did
not the father of Ulbar construct the room and arrange its
machinery?"
"This is neither the time nor place for talk, however," he
continued, as he advanced to the chair. “We must make haste.
Those outside think thee dead long since, and will soon send
for me to pump out the water."
"But the water has not yet been turned on," said the pris-
oner.
"That is not their fault. They did their part but Ulbar had
unfastened the chains from the flood gate. They threw over
the lever but only the chains moved. Come now and follow
me.”
While thus explaining the reason for the death chamber's
non-performance of its duty, the dwarf had been busy cutting
the straps with his dagger. The prince arose painfully, but,
though stiff and sore, he could walk. Turning around he saw
for the first time an opening in the floor behind the chair. On
the under side of the floor was a sliding door that worked in a
pair of grooves. This door pulled back from the corridor
without, thus allowing the water to escape into a pit beneath.
The combined efforts of the two men pushed the door back.


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RHESA
Sheshbazzar peered into the darkness beneath but could see
nothing, so deep and impenetrable was the gloom.
“Jump," commanded his rescuer.
Trusting the dwarf implicitly, the prince let himself through
the hole, hung by his arms from the floor a moment and then
dropped, fully expecting to fall a considerable distance. To
his surprise he landed instantly. So slight was the distance that
his landing upon the hard pavement caused no pain to the soles
of his feet although he wore only thin sandals. Ulbar fol-
lowed.
“What place is this?” inquired the prince as the dwarf
scrambled to his feet.
"This is a square pit intended to hold the water that drains
from the room above. A lever in the corridor opens yonder
door and the water soon runs off. Where we are standing the
floor is almost level but from here it slopes down to a smaller
pit beneath a high tower. In this tower an endless chain hung
with buckets carries the water up and pours it back into the
river whence it came.”
"Can they stop the water flowing into the room above?”
"The water does not flow directly from the river but comes
from a reservoir that holds exactly the quantity required to
fill the room. This reservoir is filled from a pipe that leads
from the river. It is filled beforehand whenever the chamber is
to be used. At other times it is empty. Come, sir, we cannot
wait. If we are to see the world above we must climb up
yonder chain. It is our only avenue of escape.”
The rattle of a chain was heard directly above them.
"Ha! They have opened the door above," said Ulbar. "A
few moments more and they will enter the chamber. We must
make haste. Follow me. Walk carefully; the floor slopes.”
With one hand outstretched touching the shoulder of his
rescuer Sheshbazzar followed, shuffling over the rapidly descend-
ing pavement. He stumbled several times, so stiff were his
limbs from his previous constrained position, but he reached the
edge of the second and smaller pit without accident, A faint
river wheney stop the wateow directly from


A FRIEND IN NEED
149
glimmer of light came down to them. Hanging in the pit were
the buckets, their dim outlines barely discernible in the semi-
darkness. Leaning out over the edge of the pit and looking
up, Sheshbazzar could see the long line of buckets as they rose
one above another in the tower enclosing them. Far above was
the trough into which they poured their contents as they turned
to descend.
Ulbar produced a stout rope from beneath his gown and,
climbing down into the pit, he so secured the endless chain as
to render it immovable, thereby making it safe for the climb.
“All is ready,” said Ulbar. “I will go first and do thou
follow about four buckets behind me.”
Without further delay the little spy laid hold of the chain
and drew himself up until he rested on the first bucket. Then
on he went to the second, then to the third. When he had
ascended about twelve feet, (the buckets being about three
feet apart) Sheshbazzar followed him. Slowly, laboriously they
made their way up foot by foot in the darkness. From bucket
to bucket they drew themselves. It was a difficult climb. So
frail were the buckets that they dare not trust them to bear
their weight, but drew themselves up by sheer strength. It was
little better than going up a rope hand over hand.
At last Ulbar drew himself out upon the trough into which
the buckets emptied. He called to his companion to stop while
he looked about to see if the way was clear. Only a moment
did he allow himself the luxury of rest. Standing in the trough,
he looked out through the opening at the top of the shaft. The
night was now as dark as any plotter could desire. The bril-
liant moon, whose knight-errant rays had penetrated into the
shaft and assisted in their escape, had now disappeared behind
some gathering clouds in the west. A few feet beneath flowed
the Euphrates, still and dark. Not a sound was heard, not even
the cry of a bird. Dark and quiet, it was the moment for an
escape.
"Come," called Ulbar,


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RHESA
The last few feet of that terrible climb were soon passed and
the rescued prince drew himself up beside his rescuer.
"My service to thee must end here,” said Ulbar. "Here I
was ordered to await the signal to start the pails. That order
must soon come and if I am not here, suspicion will fall upon
me. Climb down the trough and drop into the river. It is
but a few feet. Directly opposite here is a brick quay, small
and unused. Lying on that quay is a bundle of clothing which
thou must put on. Wrap up thine own clothing in the same
way; place in the bundle a stone that thou wilt find; tie it
securely with a rope that I have provided, and then throw it
into the river. In a small jar thou wilt find some stain, which
applied to thy skin will make thee appear as an Arab, Go from
Babylon for a time, my Prince. Now go, I beg thee. Vul-
maran may send for me at any moment."
"One word only,” said the prince. “I will not stay to tell
thee how grateful I am to thee for thus saving my life, but
before I go, tell me Ulbar, what prompted thee to this act.”
“Against my will, Prince, I was forced to bear witness against
thee. To clear my conscience I have done what I could to
undo the mischief caused by my lies.”
. “When Sheshbazzar returns, Ulbar, I hope he can repay thee
for this night's service.”
"In seeing thee alive and realizing that the noble line of
Nebuchadnezzar is not cut off, I am fully rewarded. Go now,
I beseech thee."
Without a moment's hesitation Sheshbazzar crawled down
the trough, hung for a moment on its outer end and then
dropped into the river. Hardly had the sound caused by his
striking the water died away when the door of the shaft was
opened and a slave came in to order the pails started.
By the time Sheshbazzar struck out for the opposite shore
the swift current had carried him several feet below the palace.
The swimmer allowed for this and took his course diagonally
across toward the unused quay. At this point, which even in
the darkness he perceived to be well below the palace proper,


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151
the river was exceedingly narrow as if to make up for its great
width only a few rods above. Therefore the current was very
swift and it required great exertion on his part to reach the
shore. When at last he drew himself out upon the quay he was
nearly exhausted. The trials of the preceding day, the ner-
vousness caused by his confinement, his interview with Vul-
maran and the great physical exertions of his escape, combined
to produce this result.
It required all the will power of his naturally strong char-
acter to resist the temptation to lie there on the quay and rest,
but the thoughts of possible dangers ahead spurred him on.
Quickly and quietly he removed his garments and substituted
the coarse Arab dress provided by Ulbar. Then by rubbing the
stain over his face, neck and hands he became a veritable son of
the desert. He was careful to use the stain sparingly, fully
realizing the necessity of always having some of it about him in
order to keep up his disguise,
Immediately after the rab mag's messenger had departed,
Ulbar left the tower and followed the slave down into the
labyrinth leading to the dungeons. Vulmaran and two slaves
still remained outside the drowning chamber. Ulbar broke
into a run that the rab mag would believe he had hurried all
the way. I
"The machinery is broken,” he cried as he reached the group.
“I cannot move the chain.”
“What meanest that?” exclaimed Vulmaran.
“Never before has it failed to work," answered the dwarf.
"Will the pit beneath hold all the water that the chamber
contains ?”
“It will,” replied the spy.
"Then open the door at once. The water must have escaped
by this time. I am impatient to behold this man's body. A
strange presentiment tells me that he has foiled me even now.
Open, open and let me see yon water-soaked corpse.”
The slaves undid the bars that fastened the great water-tight
door. Vulmaran grasped the handle of the door and swung


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RHESA
it open. There inside the room stood the empty chair, its cut
straps dangling from its back and arms.
“Foiled again, by Merodach !” cried Vulmaran.
"Yea and by the gods themselves,” he added. “No human
power could have saved him.”
He turned to Ulbar as if a suspicion of the truth entered
his mind, but the little spy returned his gaze with such stony
calmness as to disarm the rab mag. An exclamation from one
of the slaves drew the attention of the foiled murderer. Vul-
maran turned at the cry. The Susianian was standing beside
the wall. He touched the stonework and held his hand out
mutely to the rab mag. Vulmaran grasped the man's meaning
at once and touched the wall. His hand was dry after touching
walls that in the ordinary course of affairs should have been,
water-soaked.
"By Nebo! Even our father Euphrates has failed us," he
cried.
He turned angrily to the slaves.
"Did ye not open the gate ?” he asked.
"Yea, sir," answered one, "we threw the lever over as far
as it would go.”
Vulmaran turned away, a look of chagrin upon his counte-
nance. He ordered Ulbar to investigate the cause of the failure
and repair whatever damage he found. After giving this order
he left the gloomy place. He walked through dark passages,
around sharp corners and up long flights of steps toward the
palace. It was daylight when he passed through the last low
archway and entered one of the spacious halls of the royal
residence. His presence in the palace was so common at all
hours of the day or night that no voice questioned him, no
hindrance was placed upon his actions, no tongue reported his
movements. He passed through the building and out at one
of its smaller entrances, giving upon a gate in the wall. The
sentry at the portal allowed him to pass, and in a few moments
the illustrious rab mag of Babylon was walking sedately
through one of its principal streets toward his own princely


THREE WOMEN
153
residence. Not one of the persons who saluted him that morn-
ing could judge of the fires of rage, ambition and disappoint-
ment burning so fiercely beneath that calm and dignified ex-
terior.
CHAPTER XIX
THREE WOMEN
Nitocris, twice queen of Babylon and born princess of Egypt,
of all women on earth should have been happy. But what
happiness can life hold for any woman of high and lofty senti-
ments and pure heart, wedded to a man, king though he be,
whose tastes and desires are hardly higher than a beast's? The
mother of Sheshbazzar was as much above her husband in a
spiritual and moral sense as an angel is above the best of man-
kind. She loathed and hated her sensual drunken husband and
that loathing extended to her own son, the offspring of a dis-
tasteful wedlock.
Of all the sentiments of human souls that actuate human
actions, duty is the most severe. Duty was the god to which
Nitocris bowed with all the ardor of the sternest devotee. From
that terrible hour in which a treacherous sword had robbed her
of a husband in mind and soul her equal, but one thought had
guided her, but one ambition actuated her. From that hour it
became her duty, a duty religiously adhered to, to avenge her
husband's death and place her son upon his father's throne.
When in the agonizing throes of child-birth she had thought
only of giving Babylon a ruler. On through the perils of baby-
hood (for did not babies wail when teething, twenty-five cen-
turies ago) she had watched over and cared for the helpless
child, always thinking of the future, thinking of her pride at
seeing him march home at the head of his victorious army, fol-
lowed by long trains of captives and treasure-laden mules. She
had dreamed too of days of peace, days in which she could see


154
RHESA
which her where to become his quited to as noto
before the upon the
becomad been
her artistic dreams for the city worked out. She had dreamed
of noble buildings and palatial gardens, the result of her plans
but carried out by her son.
Then came the murder and usurpation. The babe was res-
cued but never more would he know a mother's care. She had
watched him as best she could. Her heart leaped at seeing him
ruddy and sturdy, playing in and about the temple. Then came
another murder and usurpation, landing Nabonidos upon the
throne. One day a royal retinue drew up before the humble
cottage in which her widowhood had been passed. A kneeling
monarch had begged her to become his queen. Her woman's
nature had rebelled against being forever united to as notorious
a libertine as was the pleading king, but her duty again con-
trolled her. That she might be the better enabled to further
her son's interests she had consented.
One day she had realized that she was to become a mother
for the third time. Oh, the agony of the thought. A child to
Nabonidos! She hated the unborn embryo. After the babe was
born, a weak puny thing, her mother love asserted itself for a
time and she kept the spark of life within the fragile body.
For a few years thereafter her mind dwelt upon her youngest
child, but not for long. Was it not Nitocris who had sug-
gested to the king the summoning to the palace of Nabomuran,
the chief priest's son, he who excelled all others in athletic and
warlike sports, that the boy Belshazzar might imbibe some of
the young soldier's qualities. Incidentally she thus brought
the young man to the king's notice, thereby causing his prefer-
ment. She had soon discovered Belshazzar's weaknesses and she
gave up all hope of making a man of him. She therefore began
planning for her firstborn.
Many and many a time had she endeavored to bring about
an interview with her son, but every time she had been foiled.
Her position as queen balked her. At last, desperate, she had
boldly sent for him upon the night of the banquet, when she
knew that both her husband and her younger son would be
safely occupied.
gested to thriest's son, he woy Belshazzar tally she


THREE WOMEN
155
This fair June morning she sat in her boudoir, meditating
upon her elder son and his prospects in life. Elmura her little
waiting maid, who was also in the rab mag's employ, came in to
announce the presence of Ulbar who desired an immediate audi-
ence. Nitocris arose at once and passed through the archway
into the reception room.
Ulbar advanced cautiously, dropping upon one knee as the
queen approached.
“Is all well?” inquired the queen in a low tone.
In a like manner of voice the little man told her of Shesh-
bazzar's mishaps, ending with an account of his escape. Tears
were in the queen's eyes when he finished. At that moment
she regretted making the announcement to the prince. Sud-
denly she thought of how the rab mag had obtained his informa-
tion, and she turned quickly toward Elmura who was standing
in the room but out of earshot.
"Thou little traitress," she cried, "leave me at once and never
let me see thy face again. Thou mayest be thankful that I let
thee off so easily.”
The maid sulkily left the room and the queen turned again
to Ulbar.
"Arise,” she said, "he who saves the life of Babylon's hope
kneels to the gods alone."
A glad smile illumined the face of the dwarf, for the moment
lessening the repulsiveness of his features. Such words were
rare in his ears, he who had always served hard masters.
"Wilt thou not be in danger as a result of thine act?” asked
the queen.
“I fear no one,” he replied, “my life has not been spent in
secret ways for naught. Oh Bel, that mine eyes could forget
some of the sights they have seen.”
A servant entered and approached the queen.
"A Jewish woman desires to speak with thee and refuses to
go until she has seen thee,” he said.
"Bid her enter," commanded Nitocris.
A white-clad figure entered the room.


156
RHESA
“Bide thou here a few moments, Ulbar and I will speak with
thee again. Come," she said addressing the Jewess.
The queen re-entered her boudoir, followed closely by the
white-clad figure. When they were inside Nitocris drew the
curtains together and crossed the room to a divan. She mo-
tioned her visitor to a seat beside her upon the divan.
"I know who thou art," whispered the queen. "Thou art
the Jewish girl Sheshbazzar loves. Orma I think was the
name."
“I am Orma, the daughter of Nehum,” was the girl's simple
answer.
The queen took hold of the cape that her visitor wore about
her head and, throwing it back upon her shoulders, gazed earn-
estly into the face of her son's beloved.
“Ah, Sheshbazzar !" she exclaimed. "Who can blame thee?
Such beauty as this is rare even in Egypt.”
Orma blushed and hung her head, but still she was pleased.
Why should she not be? What woman but would like to be
called beautiful by another whose own charms were praised in
many lands?
"I come," said Orma presently, “with a message from the
prince. He has escaped from the hands of his enemies and is
now far outside the city. He journeys toward the southwest,
there to seek a home among the wanderers of the desert. He
knows not how long he shall be gone. Some day he will re-
turn. Should his presence be required before he returns he
bids us send a trusty messenger to search him out."
“Alas!” cried the queen, tears springing to her eyes, “is it
thus Babylon's king leaves to make his home among the wild
nomads of the desert?”
"Should it become necessary to send for him I will be the
messenger," said Orma.
“Thou?" exclaimed Nitocris. “Why girl, it would be fool-
hardy in thee."
"Nay queen, I only have seen him in his disguise and I alone
would recognize him.”


THREE WOMEN
157
Before either had opportunity to continue the subject an-
other woman entered. It was Haslita come to see her new-
found mother, for on the morning following her revelation to
Sheshbazzar, Nitocris had taken her beautiful daughter in her
arms and told her all. As she entered, she stopped a moment in
the archway, one arm upholding the heavy curtain, the other
hanging loosely by her side. Her lips were parted from sur-
prise at seeing a visitor in that apartment which few entered.
As she stood thus, her figure clad in white outlined against the
dark draperies, she made a picture fit for a master's brush.
Orma gazed upon her with interest and admiration. As she
gazed she thought of Sheshbazzar's putting her beauty before
his sister's and at the remembrance she smiled, a smile that the
newcomer construed as a greeting. Halista advanced to the
divan and bending over kissed the high white forehead of her
queen-mother. Then as if actuated by a sudden impulse she
placed one arm about Orma's neck and kissed her in the most
sisterly fashion.
“This dear girl brings us news of him we love," said the
queen.
In a few words she repeated to Halista all that she knew
concerning Sheshbazzar and his present whereabouts. She con-
cluded with Orma's resolution to seek out the prince should his
presence become imperative.
"I will go with thee,” cried Halista enthusiastically.
“When will be the proper time for us to send for him ?”
asked the practical queen.
The joyous light faded from four black eyes. When, ah
when? It was a difficult question. In all Babylon the three
women seemed to be alone. They wished that Sheshbazzar
could have hidden in Babylon where they could seek his advice
as it was needed. Long they continued their discussion.
“Oh that I were a man," cried Nitocris. “All my life have
I felt the limitations of my sex but never so fully as at this
moment. If we were three men instead of three women we
could lay plans and carry them out. As it is we are helpless."


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RHESA
“Say not helpless, mother. A woman's influence is her power.
What she cannot accomplish alone she can persuade men to do
for her. Can we not plan for our prince and enlist men to
carry out our plans?” said Halista.
"Perhaps we can," replied Nitocris.
“How many men are there we can rely upon ?” asked Hal-
ista.
"Let me see," mused the queen, “there is Ulbar. Then we
can surely be confident of Belibus. Thou Halista, can enlist
him in our cause."
"My influence in that direction will be unnecessary, mother,"
said the princess blushing. “Belibus already loves the prince as
a brother.”
"With Belibus will go his hundred warriors, all men of
birth and influence. Their value to our cause cannot be esti-
mated.”
"Can the chief priest also be considered ?” asked Orma, loath
to obtrude her ideas upon them.
"Surely,” replied the queen smiling, “his is a power little less
than the king's.”
“Oh,” she cried joyously, “I feel as if our prince was on the
road to the throne already."
A few moments later Orma announced her intention of de-
parting. As their informal meeting broke up all three felt that
the first steps of an infant monarchy had been taken, but as the
first steps of even the greatest men are slow, weak and unsteady,
so this plot (if that unpleasant word must be used) started
weakly and uncertainly. Would that we could describe its
footsteps as growing stronger, ever stronger, but alas! his-
tory, that stern unbending recorder of the world's events, lays
out a dead line for the romancer and seems to command: “Thus
far shalt thou go and no farther.” Already up in the north-
east a great warrior, backed by armies almost innumerable, is
laying plans and how can the plans of three weak women stand
before the desires of an Asiatic conqueror. Still from out that
plot emerged men and women tested and tried, fitted to carry
east a gresnou go and no farther, seems to command


THREE WOMEN
159
on a work far more important than the resuscitation of a dying
empire, a work whose results are apparent at the present day.
Orma left the queen's boudoir in spirits raised far above
their wonted level. She had sat beside Babylon's queen and
princess, had been their confidant, but above all they had silently,
but none the less surely, approved of her as the prince's love.
Notwithstanding their present relations, forbidden by her father
to meet, Orma felt assured that such love as theirs would sur-
mount all obstacles. With this thought in her mind she re-
garded the kindness of queen and princess as a good omen. If
only Sheshbazzar would look toward Jehovah!
Muffled in her cloak in order to hide her features, she passed
out through the queen's reception room, where Ulbar still
awaited the queen's pleasure. At the doorway a servant stepped
to her side. He conducted her through the many halls and pas-
sages leading from the queen's apartments to the outer portal.
As she passed out she brushed against a man just entering the
building. The contact caused her to loosen her hold upon the
cape and it dropped back upon her shoulders. Before she could
replace it, the man had thrown one quick penetrating glance
into her face. The man was the rab mag, Vulmaran. Turn-
ing to a young fellow standing beside the doorway, he com-
manded: “Follow that woman and report to me."
Orma passed out and hurried down the broad steps. She
walked rapidly homeward, looking neither to the right nor the
left. All the way from the palace to her home she was fol-
lowed by the spy. When she turned into the pathway leading up
to the house he quickly noted the surroundings and withdrew.
Meanwhile an interesting interview was in progress at the
palace. Vulmaran was hastening to the presence of the king
when he accidentally brushed against the Jewess. It was from
no spirit of idle curiosity that the wily rab mag ordered one
of his many tools to follow her. Not for a single moment
had the miraculous escape of Sheshbazzar been absent from his
thoughts but, as the time passed into hours since that disappoint-
ing moment when the open door of the drowning chamber had


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RHESA
revealed to him the failure of his plans, he began more and
more to doubt the miraculousness of the prince's escape. Im-
possible as it seemed, some person or persons must have fath-
omed the secrets of the drowning chamber and planned the
successful escape of the prince.
It was while in this frame of mind that the rab mag entered
the great library which throughout the reigns of the present
monarchs was used as a reception room. Both kings were pres-
ent and alone, a most opportune moment for Vulmaran. Not-
withstanding that the government of Babylon was essentially
despotic, it yet embraced certain democratic features, chief of
which was the accessibility of the monarch. No ruler of modern
times is more easily approached on matters of importance than
were the kings of Babylon. Rarely throughout those hours of
the day set aside for the affairs of state were the monarchs
alone in their official apartment.
Vulmaran approached the dais upon which the monarchs sat
in their twin thrones. He bowed low with the studied obse-
quiousness that he always affected.
"May the blessings of our lord, Bel rest upon thee this day
and may his favor shine upon thee,” he said deferentially.
“Peace be with thee,” replied the elder monarch.
“How prosper matters?” he asked almost in the same breath.
"Badly, very badly, O King. Our prisoner has escaped.”
“Escaped !” cried Nabonidos, springing to his feet and bring-
ing his fist down upon the small table beside his throne. “Then
thou shalt be held responsible. Unless that man is back in our
prison within a twelvemonth, thou, Vulmaran shalt die in his
place.”
prison walt be he, upon the
CHAPTER XX
FAREWELL TO HOME
The first rays of the rising sun were gilding the roof of the
temple shrine. The clear, limpid water of the great moat


FAREWELL TO HOME
161
without the outer wall rippled against the brick embankment,
each tiny globule a glittering crystal of light. The atmosphere
was hazy, damp with the early mist from the river. All was
silent. Dame Nature alone was awake. Man, the creature of
the day, was yet sleeping, unconscious of the glories that he
missed. As under healthy conditions a man is at his best when
he first awakes from slumber, possessed of a rested body and a
clear mind, so methinks it is with Nature. With the refreshing
dew still undried and the clear rays of the morning sun shining
down upon her, she is at her best. The birds twitter their
sweetest songs after their first drink at some crystal spring.
The insects buzz their loudest. The hoarse croaking of the
frog and the dismal hoot of the owl are hushed for the time and
all is peaceful and serene.
Upon this particular June morning B.C. 539, all was quiet
and peaceful. The luxuriant vegetation of the rich Chaldean
soil swayed gently before the cool breeze from the south that
even at this distance carried news of the sea. Birds sang and
twittered in great glee, flitting in and out among the stalks of
golden grain. It was a morning to gladden the heart, yet the
only human being among these beautiful scenes was sad, lonely
and oppressed. Moreover his was a heart unused to such feel-
ings, but the previous happiness only accentuated the present
misery.
Upon the summit of the first hill south of Babylon that was
crossed by the Borsipian road stood a tomb that for the era
of its construction was a work of some magnitude. Owing to
the great distance it had to be transported, stone was little used
for building purposes, but the Babylonian builder used brick
to an extent that makes his achievements a wonder to moderns.
Of all the tombs that lined the great thoroughfare, the one men-
tioned was the most imposing. Although more than a century
and a half old it was in a condition of repair and preservation
that should shame us—for think of the resting places of our
heroes who have been dead a century and a half or even much
less!


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RHESA
The tomb was constructed of sun-baked brick covered with
an outside course of kiln-baked brick, ornamented with bas-re-
liefs. It resembled in shape a small chapel and was approached
by a flight of eight broad steps, each step a single block of stone.
The opening in the tomb was closed by a single slab securely
cemented in place. This stone was covered with inscriptions
setting forth the achievements of the man whose dust reposed
within. A noble record it was, for he in whose honor this
structure had been erected was none other than the great
national hero, Merodach-Baladan.
What William Wallace was to Scotland this warrior chief-
tain was to Babylonia. For many years he had resisted the
inroads of Assyria. At length he had been captured and car-
ried prisoner to Nineveh. He escaped from his prison soon after
the death of Sargon and again assumed the rule of his land; but
all in vain. After a brief reign he was defeated by Sennacherib
(B.C. 703) and driven into exile where he died. Ten years
after his death a few faithful followers sought his grave, carried
his remains to Babylon and over them erected this mausoleum.
Upon the lower of the eight steps leading up to the tomb,
sat a traveler, the only human figure in the vast scene of beauty
our feeble pen has sought to describe. His face was buried in
his hands and an occasional sob escaped him. His whole atti-
tude was expressive of the deepest dejection. Beneath at his
feet a tiny lark picking here and there and chirping contentedly,
would occasionally lift its pretty head and eye the traveler
curiously, its little brain unable to understand how anyone could
be sad this morning.
At length the traveler raised his head and straightened him-
self with an air of determination. He looked about him as if
ashamed of having given way before his grief and fearful lest
some spectator had seen his weakness. The skin and dress were
those of an Arab wanderer; the features were those of Shesh-
bazzar, prince of Babylon. He arose, pushed back the long
hair from his forehead and made a complete survey of his sur-
roundings. Then turning about, he faced the tomb. Noticing


FAREWELL TO HOME
163
the inscription upon the stone door he ascended the steps and
knelt upon the topmost one while he perused the record of the
dead hero. After a careful examination he arose and took one
step backward. Throwing up his arms toward Heaven, he
cried:
"Oh Merodach, grant that the fate of this great man may
not be mine. Grant that the end he failed to reach may be
reached by me. Grant that the loving government he dreamed
of, I may establish. Now, Father Merodach go with me. Let
thy blessing follow me wherever I go. Carry me through the
dangers and trials of the desert and bring me back in safety
to mine own land and mine own people.”
He turned away from the tomb and gazed up and down the
road. A sign of life in the direction of Babylon arrested his
attention. Shading his eyes with his hand, he gazed long and
earnestly at the object. A horseman was surely approaching
and even at this distance the fugitive could see by the man's
carriage that he was a soldier. Escape was impossible, so Shesh-
bazzar seated himself upon the steps to await the passing of
the horseman. He hoped that he would be unnoticed or, if
seen, he hoped that his disguise was complete enough to pro-
tect him. The horse's hoof beats sounded clear and distinct
upon the hard surface of the road. As the man approached the
exile raised his head in wonder. Surely his eyes saw something
familiar about the steed whose stride was so long, whose head
was held so high and whose small hoofs seemed to spurn the
ground. No! It cannot be! Yes! It is, it is! The approach-
ing horse was Saru, the prince's own faithful steed. A moment
later the rider was also recognized. The prince waved his
hand, and the horse came to a standstill. Its rider threw him-
self to the ground. The prince ran joyously to meet him and
embraced him warmly. When they separated he turned to
fondle Saru. After petting the horse for a moment he turned
again to the rider.
"Tell me my Belibus, what brings thee abroad this morn-
ing," he said.
self to the the ho was al


164
RHESA
“I am come, Prince Sheshbazzar-4" began the new com-
mander of the Winged Lions.
"Why callest thou me by that name?" interrupted the prince.
“Fear not, my prince. Thy name and titles are now known
unto me and here, by the tomb of the great soldier whose mem-
ory we revere, I give thee mine homage and offer thee my
sword, my life and all I have."
"Arise my brother," commanded the fugitive. “It is not
right that the general of the king should kneel to a man with-
out a name, without a home, without a country.”
"Nay, prince, 'tis to the descendant of the great Nebuchad-
nezzar that I kneel. Who was it, prince, that selected from
among the troopers of the Winged Lions one of the poorest
members of the band and raised him to the position of lieu-
tenant? I tell thee, sir, my gratitude for that act shall last
forever.”
"Belibus, thou art indeed a friend. What other man in Baby-
lon would risk reputation, even life, to come after me and bring
me my horse. Yea Belibus, I perceive thy intention; I accept
thy service and right glad am I to have the company of this
noble animal in my wanderings. Return now my friend and
brother. Reach the city before thine absence can be noticed.
The memory of thine act shall accompany me and comfort me
in the dark hours that I realize lie ahead.”
A glance at the sun called attention to the flight of time. It
was expedient, therefore, that they should part. After a final
embrace they kissed and with a parting word, separated. A
moment later a thought came to the prince and he called Belibus
back.
"Remember me to the queen and Halista. Thou hast my
approval of thy love for the princess, Belibus. I knew not of
thy feelings until Nergalshazzar spoke of them, but nothing
would give me greater pleasure than to hail thee as brother.
My mother and sister will hear of me through Orma. I
stopped there early this morning and saw her father. He kindly
called his daughter and I had opportunity of bidding my love


FAREWELL TO HOME
165
farewell. I give her into thy charge, Belibus. Watch over her
and see that no harm befalls her.
"Ere a twelvemonth passes I will be back with thee again.
Should my presence be desired before I return I can be found
among the tribes of the desert. Send for me if I am needed.
Let the mesenger but tell the story of yonder Merodach-Bala-
dan, his wars and his loves and I will make myself known.
One more word, Belibus; who told thee of my name and rank
and directed thee as to my route?”
“Ulbar," answered the soldier.
"So I thought. Now again farewell, my Belibus. May the
gods keep and prosper thee.”
"Farewell my prince. May Bel go with thee and bring thee
back again in safety to rule thy country and thy people.”
They embraced again and then parted. The pseudo-Arab
mounted Saru and the gallant soldier turned toward Babylon.
Sheshbazzar rode to the summit of the next elevation and drew
rein, turning in his saddle for a last look upon the city of his
love.
"Ah Babylon,” he cried, "is this the way thou sendest forth
thy rightful sovereign ? Clad in the vestures of a wanderer and
with darkened skin, he leaves thee in the night when thou
sleepest and cannot bid him farewell. He shall return unto his
mistress and she shall bow before him. She sends him forth
without a parting word. She shall welcome him again with
trumpets."
After thus addressing the proud city, he took a last long
look as a man would gaze upon his love. Then turning about,
he chirruped to Saru. The horse darted forward down the
opposite declivity and in a moment Babylon was lost to view,
save only for the topmost pinnacle of the great temple.
An hour and a half later he galloped through the low arch-
way into the court of the great khan at Borsippa. The first
stage of his journey was over. Here he decided to spend the
night, hoping thereby to find a congenial company that would
accept him as a traveling companion. The many bands who


166
RHESA
had journeyed to Babylon to witness the coronation were now
returning to their homes, and he hoped to find among them one
that would give him company and shelter.
The Lion of Borsippa was without doubt the foremost hos-
telry of ancient times. Located as it was in the holy city of the
great empire whither thousands journeyed annually to pay their
homage to Nebo, its patronage was extensive. It was a low
rambling sort of building, but with an imposing façade upon the
temple street. It was built in the form of a hollow square and
occupied an entire city block. It was within hailing distance
of the great temple, the magnet that drew the crowds hither.
The khan faced upon the temple street but its entrance was
upon the highway here known as the Babylonian road. The
entrance was a low vaulted archway surmounted by a great
clay lion.
As Sheshbazzar alighted in the courtyard a servant and a boy
advanced to meet him. The boy took charge of the horse
while the servant conducted the traveler to his apartment. They
traversed the entire length of the courtyard, passing interesting
groups, representative of all the surroundings nations. The
apartment assigned the prince was in the farther corner of the
building. He entered and made a hasty survey of the room.
Its furnishings though simple were yet complete. The exile
was satisfied with his accommodations. In his present weary
state no couch would be unacceptable. A glance at the sun
showed the nearness of the dinner hour. The prince took one of
the stools and carried it out into the courtyard, and seated him-
self thereon, intending to while away the time until dinner was
served by watching his fellow guests.
Various groups of travelers were scattered about the court-
yard, but the solitary exile was concerned with but one. Near
the center of the enclosure was camped a company of Arabs,
such a band as he hoped to join. He watched them intently
as they spread their gaily colored cloths upon the hard brick
floor of the courtyard and prepared their meal. This was a
privilege accorded guests, they being allowed even to construct


FAREWELL TO HOME
167
booths and pitch tents within the enclosure. The party of
Arabs consisted of a dozen or more persons, including three
women and two children. The leader was a young man of pre-
possessing appearance, tall and straight with long flowing black
hair, eyes the hue of an Arabian night and a complexion of rich
brown.
Everything about the young man drew the fugitive toward
him. As his eyes followed the sheik, the determination to form
his acquaintance and seek permission to join the band came into
the prince's mind. His intention was postponed, however, by
the summons to dinner. The fugitive hurried across the yard
to the long apartment where the meals were served.
When he passed the group of Arabs upon his return from
dinner, they had not only finished partaking of their refresh-
ments but all vestiges of victuals and utensils had been removed.
The exile lingered about the group, hoping to find the leader
that he might prefer his request, but the sheik had disappeared.
Sheshbazzar returned to his apartment. He removed his outer
garment and lay down upon the couch. In a moment he was
asleep.
The afternoon was well advanced when he awoke and sat
up. After rearranging his costume he left the room and strolled
out into the courtyard. He found the young sheik standing
alone beside a tent his band had erected. The prince hastened
to the Arab's side.
“May I have a word with thee ?” he asked.
The Arab turned quickly and made a rapid survey of the
prince's person.
"Say on stranger. I listen,” he said.
"It is unnecessary to ask for secrecy, I trust,” said the prince.
“Stranger," returned the Arab, "the ears of Almada are
open but his mouth is closed."
“Then good Almada," continued the fugitive, “I am not
what my appearance denotes. I am not an Arab but a Baby-
lonian. I am an exile driven I know not whither, a man


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RHESA
forced to leave country, loved ones, everything earth holds
dear and seek a home among strangers.
"From the moment I entered this place I have intended to
speak with thee. Now is the time when we are alone. There-
fore, good Almada, I ask thee to take me into thy party and
let me accompany thee on thy way. Let me journey with thee.
Where thou tentest I will tent; where thou eatest I will eat;
where thou drinkest I will drink. If thou hast wars they shall
be my wars and I will draw my sword as one of thine own
people. I ask naught but thy comradeship and friendship. That
which I eat and drink I can pay thee for.”
“Stranger, thou askest much. We are a strange people, lov-
ing only our own, wandering from place to place, searching
for grass and water and a market for our wares. We have no
homes save yonder tents of skin; we have no abiding place save
the desert. Each night we camp at a different spot; each morn-
ing we are on our way again. Sometimes we are hungry; often
we are thirsty. It is a hard poor life, especially for one used
to the courts of yonder brilliant city. Still such as is our life,
thou art welcome to share it if thou wilt.”
"Thanks, noble Almada," said the prince gratefully. "Hence-
forth I am one of thy tribe.”
“Thy name, stranger ?" asked the sheik.
"Kadasman,” replied the exile.
CHAPTER XXI
A REBEL IN PRISON
When Heber the son of Nehum acknowledged himself van-
quished by that tower of might, Belibus, he passed into the old
palace as ordered. He kept his honor sacredly and when, after
the death of Nergalshazzar, the soldiers returned to their duties
he was found seated upon a divan in the great hall of the
building.


A REBEL IN PRISON
169
"True to thy word, I see," said Belibus.
“I am here, sir,” replied Heber, "awaiting my fate whatever
it may be.”
"That is not my affair," answered Belibus. “It is my duty to
turn thee over to the king's guard. Thou wilt have a trial and
receive whatever sentence the king sees fit to bestow."
“Rather I had met death at thy hands than be executed at
the king's command,” said Heber.
“I have never yet slain a man after he acknowledged him-
self vanquished,” replied the lieutenant coldly.
Heber was placed in the charge of two soldiers who guarded
him through the remainder of the night. The following morn-
ing, the coronation day, he was carried across the river to the
palace, hurriedly tried and promptly sentenced to death. Im-
mediately after sentence had been passed he was blindfolded
and led down through the labyrinth to the prison beneath the
river. He was placed in a cell, the door was securely fastened
and the guard left him alone to himself and his thoughts.
After the door of his cell had been closed and barred Heber
took an inventory of his surroundings. As a cell almost the
exact counterpart of this has already figured in these pages
a description would be a useless repetition. If anything Heber's
cell was more comfortable than the one subsequently occupied
by Sheshbazzar. It was one tier higher up and therefore nearer
the light and air that came down through the labyrinthian pas-
sages. One feature of this prison was the classification of its
inmates. Beginning near the entrance the cells were large,
well lighted and ventilated. From these they graded down
to the damp dark dungeons of the lowest tier. Thus mild
offenders had a comparatively comfortable incarceration, even
though it might be for life, while such unfortunates as aroused
the deepest anger of the king were thrust into the deepest dun-
geon, there to rot. their life away in a manner unimaginable
to modern minds; unless perchance they were soon sent to the
drowning chamber, which death, horrible though it was, was
yet preferable to the slow rot of a long imprisonment.


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RHESA
The two first days of Heber's confinement passed unevent-
fully. His mind was not thoroughly alive to his approaching
fate, nor did contrition for his deeds yet disturb him. Upon
arising on the third morning, however, the realization of his
sentence came upon him with a suddenness and vividness that
was crushing. He knew death to be in store for him but in
accordance with the custom of Nabonidos, no time was set for
his execution. It might come at any moment or it might be
deferred indefinitely. It was the refinement of cruelty to com-
pel a prisoner to arise each morning with the feeling that it
might be his last day on earth.
Heber sat upon the edge of his cot. He buried his face in
his hands. The face thus hidden was ashen gray, his muscles
were tense and stiff, cold beads of perspiration stood upon his
forehead. Youth and death are antipodes. To old age death
appears as a kind reliever; to the youth he is a horrible monster
whose coming is the one great calamity to be dreaded. Yet
how familiar he is to youth. How oft does he pass by the de-
crepit and seize a man in the very prime of his strength. Thus
to Heber his approaching death was a horrible nightmare. He
endeavored to fix his mind upon other matters, his home, his
loved ones, but his will was not sufficiently strong to enable him
to govern his thoughts. Ever his mind dwelt upon his fate and
upon that alone.
His mood was interrupted by the entrance of a slave bearing
his plain breakfast. His entrance aroused Heber and the con-
demned man arose to greet the slave. No expressions of kind-
ness or sympathy could he discover upon that dark forbidding
countenance. The slave neither spoke to nor looked at the
prisoner. Heber endeavored to question him.
"When am I to suffer the death ?” he asked.
The slave shook his head and opening his mouth, pointed into
the tongueless cavity. The slaves of the royal prison told no
tales !
This day was the longest of Heber's whole life. His cell
was so located that day and night were easily distinguished. In-


A REBEL IN PRISON
171
deed at midday his eye could take in all his surroundings,
whereas on the tier below a prisoner was obliged to grope at
all hours. Therefore when the light began to dwindle Heber
knew that evening was approaching and he began to look for-
ward to his supper. The same slave came shortly bearing a
supper the exact duplicate of his breakfast. After the slave
withdrew Heber attacked the food with great gusto, although
it consisted only of a coarse wheaten cake and a jug of water.
Where a man is allowed but two meals a day, all food is
ceptablene slave had teto
After the slave had returned and carried away the empty
dishes Heber stretched himself upon the couch. As he lay
there in the dim twilight the events of the past few days passed
in review before him. They so crowded upon one another as to
form a confused mass in his brain. Particularly did his mind
dwell upon the days spent in the desert, when day after day
he rode beside the young chieftain who had been so kind a mas-
ter. This train of thought led him gradually to the beautiful
Tirmar for love of whom he had taken part in the rebellion.
His brow clouded as he thought of his evil genius, but even
at this moment he realized how completely he was within her
power and how, were she present she would rule him. He began
to feel less dread for the death that would release his soul from
such bondage.
In his present frame of mind sleep was impossible and he
would undoubtedly have lain awake all night, living his life
over and over again. He realized this himself and it was there-
fore a relief when he heard the bar of his door being removed.
A moment later a slave, his regular attendant, entered and
after placing a lighted lamp upon the floor, instantly withdrew.
As he passed out another man entered. He was plainly attired
but was evidently a civil officer of some rank; at least his dress
showed he was not of the army. The slave closed the door
and remained outside on guard.
Heber arose from his couch and faced his visitor. But one
thought was suggested by this visitation:


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RHESA
"I suppose the time of my execution has arrived,” he said put-
ting on a bold face.
“Nay,” replied the newcomer. “'Tis life not death I bring.
Mine is a pleasant errand. I am come to make thee a free
man.”
“Then the king has pardoned me,” cried Heber, to whose
mind the likelihood of such an act had been ever present.
“Hush, not so rapidly,” said the officer in his soft, pleasant
tones and holding up his right hand as if to command silence.
“The king knows nothing of this visit, nor need he ever know.
I am the rab mag. To me is entrusted the solemn duty of exe-
cuting or of pardoning. Only the king has more power than
So Vulmaran was paying another midnight visit to the prison.
Surely the illustrious rab mag never slept.
"If I am not pardoned how speakest thou of freedom?" asked
Heber.
“It is I and not the king who would make thee free, my
boy," answered the rab mag in his smoothest tones.
“Is there a condition to my pardon ?" asked Heber slightly
suspicious.
“I would require of thee some little service," was the reply.
"Is it a service that I can honorably accept?”
"It is a service of the greatest honor; a service that will save
the empire from destruction.”
"Of what benefit would it be to a Jew to save this empire?”
“Even a Jew may value his own life," insinuated Vul-
maran.
Heber hesitated. While not a man possessed of keen per-
ceptive faculties he yet saw that the rab mag had some unusual
task he wished performed. He realized that convicted men were
not given life and liberty for nothing. The desire to save him-
self was growing strong with him. A few moments before he
had thought himself prepared to meet death bravely if not
willingly. Now one word of hope had demolished the whole
carefully raised structure.


A REBEL IN PRISON
173
Heber was of a weak nature. A superior will could always
lead him. Even at the present moment, when his better self
commanded him to refuse the rab mag's offer, fully suspecting
the service required to be of a treacherous nature, he realized
that he must eventually yield if Vulmaran persisted. The latter
watched the Jew closely, noting every expression of his face
that might furnish a clue to the thoughts behind. When he
deemed the moment propitious he renewed the attack.
"Be seated,” he said pointing to the couch.
Vulmaran drew up a stool and seated himself close beside
his victim. He leaned over and spoke directly into the young
man's face.
"Listen to me,” he said. “Thou hast never heard of it but
in this building there is a strange chamber used for a strange
purpose. It is called a drowning chamber and in it the worst
offenders are executed. For minor offences the sword is the
mode of execution, but for such crimes as thine this wonderful
room is used. The prisoner is bound to a stout chair, bound so
securely that he cannot move a muscle. Then a gate is opened
and water commences flowing into the room. It runs slowly,
very slowly and the prisoner watches it as inch by inch it rises,
cold and merciless. There is always a lighted lamp left in the
room so the prisoner will have no difficulty in watching the
water. The greater the king's displeasure the more slowly
runs the water. It mounts slowly upward over the prisoner's
feet to his knees, and up from his knees to his waist. On, on it
goes, up to his shoulders, to his mouth, to his nose, and
then ," the rab mag shrugged his shoulders suggestively.
Heber sat as still as a statue. "Cold drops of perspiration
stood out on his forehead as the realistic narrative of Vulmaran
progressed. His long black hair clustered about his forehead in
damp ringlets. His whole being was unnerved. He was as
helpless clay in the hands of the potter. The rab mag saw his
advantage and was quick to follow it up.
"This, my dear young friend, is the punishment I am ordered
to mete out to thee this night. My orders are to let the water
on his fotill as a stagged his shouth, to


174
RHESA
run its slowest. I shall obey my instructions to the letter unless
thou availest thyself of my offer."
He paused for a moment but Heber remained silent.
"Well sir, which is it; life or death? I shall waste no more
time with thee. Decide now," said Vulmaran impatiently.
“Name thy conditions," said Heber weakly. The rab mag
smiled..
"Listen,” he continued. “Last night a man was taken into
yonder chamber to suffer the death he fully deserved. He was
securely bound to the chair; the door was closed and secured.
The water was turned on and those without waited patiently
for the chamber to do its work. When the proper length of
time had elapsed the door was opened. Inside stood the empty
chair. The prisoner was gone and the walls of the room were
dry. Some powerful friends of the man had rescued him in a
manner deemed impossible. Thus, O Jew, was the will of the
king thwarted and as I was in charge of the execution the king
holds me responsible. Unless that man is captured within a
twelvemonth I shall receive the death intended for him. Now
then, young man, I offer thee life and liberty if thou wilt follow
the escaped prisoner and when he is located bring me word.
What is it now, life or death?”
Heber hesitated but an instant. The task seemed small
enough.
"I accept thy conditions,” he said.
“Good!” exclaimed the rab mag. “I will now give thee a
few instructions for thy guidance. I have provided clothing to
disguise thee and gold to pay thy way. Here is a pass that
enables thee to get through any gate. Thou wilt leave the city
by the Sippara road and journey northwards. Ulbar informs
me that a man whose description tallies with that of him we
seek was seen yesterday journeying northwards from the city.
I suspect he will join the Medes and bring them down upon us.
Follow him to the end of the world if needs be and if thou
findest him, wealth and honor shall be thine.”
"How looks the man and what is his name?" asked Heber.


HEBER'S QUEST
175
“He is dressed all in white. He is tall and dark and hand-
some. He wears a black beard. As for his name, it is Shesh-
bazzar, but he is known unto thee as Nabomuran."
"Oh, my God! My master!” cried Heber.
CHAPTER XXII
HEBER'S QUEST
Shortly after daybreak Heber left the city by the Sippara
road. He was attired as a Babylonian officer and mounted
upon a fine horse. To all appearances he was an ordinary
horseman bound upon a peaceful if not an enjoyable journey.
He carried only the lightest of arms and armor barely sufficient
to protect himself from wild animals. Slung from his saddle
in a neat roll was a heavy cloak to wear should he be obliged
to sleep under Heaven's roof alone or in case his quest carried
him into northern latitudes.
The road at this hour was deserted and Heber had only his
own gloomy thoughts as companions. The announcement of
the name of the man whom he was to track had been a great
blow and for an instant he contemplated refusing to accept his
life upon such terms, but Vulmaran's description of the mode
of death in store for him had been all too vivid and the young
man lacked the strength to deliberately choose that death. So
here he was started upon the long chase after the man he loved.
Heber supposed himself upon his master's track and felt
assured he would ultimately find him. What action to take in
that contingency was the question now troubling him as he rode
along. His former love for the Babylonian had long since
returned and now fully possessed him. It was greater than
ever before. Therefore he liked not the idea of tracking him
to his death. His mind suggested the finding of a place of
security for himself and never letting Vulmaran hear from him


176
RHESA
again, but it seemed both cowardly and treacherous. However,
he told himself, he need not make the decision until his master's
whereabouts were discovered.
The day passed uneventfully. He stopped by the wayside
and partook of a coarse lunch provided by the rab mag. After
an hour's rest in the shade of a group of palms, he remounted
his horse and continued the journey. He rode slowly, hoping
the man he sought would so gain upon him as to reach a place
of safety. It was nearly nightfall when he entered Sippara. He
rode leisurely through the streets to the inn. Here he received
a hearty meal and was shown to a comfortable sleeping place.
A servant took charge of his horse.
After partaking of the refreshment provided, Heber roamed
about the enclosure inquiring of his fellow guests if any had
seen a tall dark man clad all in white. Each time he put the
question he feared lest some one of them would answer in the
affirmative. He made a complete tour of the inn and from
each guest received the same negative answer. He was about to
return to his own apartment when he spied an old man sitting
alone. Heber hastened to his side and put the oft-repeated
question.
. “Let me see," murmured the old man. “I remember meet-
ing a man about twenty miles north of here. Yes, he was
dressed all in white and he had a cloth about his head as if he
had been injured."
“Was he mounted or on foot?" asked Heber.
"Mounted, but he knew not how to ride the horse," was the
rep Heber thanked Showing his master had a slow. h
Heber thanked him and turned away. His fears were real-
ized. He was following his master and less than a day's jour-
ney behind him. Either the prince had a slow horse or he was
in no hurry. Mentally, Heber resolved that this distance should
not be lessened, at least not until Babylon was miles behind.
One detail of the old man's description struck him as strange.
How happened it the commander of the Winged Lions, "knew
not how to ride the horse”?


HEBER'S QUEST
177
o means of Croallowed the rivere of a small
For three days Heber kept steadily on, following the track
of the fugitive, yet never gaining upon him. At Duraba Heber
learned that his quarry had left the main road, which kept on
toward Nineveh. He was now journeying toward the north-
east.
"Vulmaran was right,” thought Heber. “He is going to
join the Medes. My duty bids me follow but that is all. Once
with the Medes Vulmaran may storm. We will both be beyond
his reach.”
This thought lifted a heavy load from the young man's mind
and when he continued his journey the following morning he
allowed his horse to proceed at a much faster pace, and soon
reached the banks of the Tigris. At this point the river was
unfordable and no means of crossing existing, Heber turned
his horse's head upstream and followed the river bank until
noon. Shortly after noon he stopped on the edge of a small
wood for lunch and rest. He tied his horse to a tall tree while
he stretched himself at full length upon the greensward.
After partaking of his refreshment, instead of sleeping an
hour as had been his practice up to this time, he thought of
whiling away a few moments exploring the woods. He looked
to the comfort of his faithful beast and then 'stepped through
the outermost clump of trees into the tangle beyond. His
progress was slow and laborious. Pushing aside here a sapling,
there a bush he pushed onward through the tangle, slipping in
and out and zigzagging back and forth. A half hour's exertion
brought him to the edge of an open glade fully thirty feet
across. To his astonishment he found a horse quietly browsing
within. He at once cast his eyes about the glade to discover
the animal's rider. His search was short. Scarcely ten feet
from the horse lay his master, asleep. The sleeper was the
fugitive Heber had been following all these days.
Heber stood still in the edge of the wood, where he would
be partially hidden should the sleeper suddenly awake, and
gazed intently upon the features of the man before him. It
surely was the one whose description had been furnished him.


HEBER'S QUEST
179
"Oh, my Heber,” she exclaimed, "hast thou come all this
distance to seek me?"
"Nay, Tirmar," he replied. “I have been following thee by
mistake, thy description having been furnished me for an-
other's.”
The eager expression on the woman's face died out. It was
a bitter disappointment. Amazon though she was, she was yet
a woman and loved Heber with a woman's love, made yet more
intense by the fierce passionateness of her nature. It was deny-
ing her, this cold, matter-of-fact speech. Heber had not in-
tended to hurt her but he showed her no tenderness. A few
days back he had told himself he had conquered all love for this
woman, that she could no longer dominate him. Now he was
again looking into those eyes. Even through her disguise,
dressed as she was in man's attire, he could see the outlines of
her figure, the most wonderful in Babylon. Had Tirmar been
a wanton riches and splendor might have been hers. Such
beauty as she possessed could not well escape the eyes of even
high-born votaries of pleasure, but her strong will had been her
protection.
It is unnecessary to dwell longer upon the scene. Heber was
a man and as a man he fell an easy prey to a woman's beauty.
Again he was in her power but as he looked upon her he was
glad this was so. The Tirmar before him was not the Tirmar
who had urged him to rebellion. She was changed. At this
moment her only ambition was to become his wife. They seated
themselves side by side upon the grass and for an hour talked
trivialities, as lovers have since Adam courted Eve in Paradise.
The slanting rays of the sun told them it was long past noon
and therefore time for them to continue their journey if they
wished to reach an abiding place before nightfall. Tirmar led
her horse out through a narrow lane and Heber followed. Once
in the open they passed around the woods to the spot where
Heber had tied his horse. They mounted and rode away, fol-
lowing the river bank toward the north until they found a
fordable place in the stream. The crossing was a difficult one


180
RHESA
but at length they reached the opposite bank, tired and wet.
That night they encamped under the stars and continued their
journey in the morning.
Thus they rode on and on for five days. Once with Tirmar
Heber gave up all discussion of his destination. She was bound
for the camp of the Medes and Persians and where she went he
would go. One night in a lonely farmer's hut, Tirmar had
urged their marriage, so taking her hand in his, Heber repeated
a simple vow. She followed and thus they became husband and
wife. Simple and impromptu as was the ceremony both con-
sidered it binding and it was well. The vows thus made were
faithfully kept.
Late in the forenoon of the sixth day after they had crossed
the Tigris, they reached the outskirts of a vast military camp.
It was located upon a far-stretching, rolling plain near the banks
of the river Gyndes. Long rows of tents and bowers stretched
away to a great distance, each row equally distant from its
neighbors, with long straight avenues between. Down one of
these avenues the travelers took their way, intending to inquire
for the tent of Rastagus, of whom Heber had already told his
wife. They were soon halted by a sentry who demanded their
names, their destination and their business.
Briefly Heber stated that they were Jews from Babylon
searching for one Rastagus, a high official of King Cyrus. The
sentry ordered them to remain in their present position while
he called an officer to hear their tale. He returned shortly
accompanied by a young man whom Heber judged to be an
officer of considerable rank. Again Heber went through his
brief narrative. The officer listened attentively and as Heber
progressed, a puzzled look came into his face.
“This man must have been of some rank but I fear thou art
mistaken in his name. There is no officer in this army of that
name as far as I am aware," said the officer.
Heber, bewildered and disappointed, turned to Tirmar. The
officer scrutinized them keenly.
"I think thou hadst best state thine errand to the king," he


HEBER'S QUEST
181
said a moment later. "Mayhap he will know what officer was
near Babylon at that time. The king has but recently returned
from a journey but he will undoubtedly see thee.”
The officer led the way through the camp, followed closely
by the two Jews. The distance they traversed was considerable,
The vastness of the camp was a wonder to Heber. Accus-
tomed though he was to martial affairs he had never yet seen
such a body of soldiery gathered together. Their numbers were
beyond calculation. Row upon row of tents and huts stretched
away as far as the eye could see. Well-armed sentries were sta-
tioned at regular intervals through the camp. No disorder was
manifest. Everything was conducted in a manner surprising to
behold.
At length they reached a large open space in the center of
the camp. Here upon a slight natural elevation was pitched
the great pavilion of King Cyrus. Grouped about it were
many smaller tents and two well built wooden structures, one
evidently the culinary department of the king's household and
the other the headquarters of the army from whence issued the
orders that kept the whole vast mechanism under control.
Their conductor left them in a small tent close beside the
central pavilion and bade them there await his return. He
called up a sentry and bade him stand at the entrance. Heber
judged from this act that the young officer was suspicious of
them. Their wait was short, the officer returning soon with
instructions for them to enter the King's tent. He opened the
flap to the pavilion and motioned for them to precede him.
At the farther end of the tent, seated in a heavy but simple
oaken chair, was Cyrus the Great, king of Anshan, Media and
Persia. He was plainly attired in a military costume. Save
for his heavy golden chain he could easily have been taken for
any of his generals. The two Jews approached the famous con-
queror with great deference. When near him they dropped
upon their knees.
"Arise," commanded the king, “I desire to speak with thee
plainly."


182
RHESA
“Thou, Gobryas, stand at the entrance and prevent any in-
terruption of the present interview.” Thus commanded their
conductor returned to the opposite end of the tent where he
was out of hearing.
“This Rastagus whom thou seekest is not at present in our
camp. Therefore I will hear what thou hast to say," said
Cyrus.
"We are two Jews driven from Babylon who seek shelter
from thee," began Heber.
The king demanded the causes of their leaving Babylon. As
briefly as possible Heber narrated the incidents with which we
are familiar. He began with the Jews' rebellion and ended
with his liberation from prison.
"So the fools would not wait until spring as I ordered them,”
commented Cyrus, referring to the rebellion of the Jews.
"It was thought best to strike before Belshazzar was
crowned,” answered Heber.
"A fine time," said the king sarcastically. "With a city full
of soldiers, they should have known better. I will no more
depend upon their help.”
Heber said nothing, waiting for the king to continue the con-
versation. The monarch sat silent and thoughtful for some
moments. At length he raised his head and asked: "Where
is this Sheshbazzar of whom thou spake?”
“I know not,” replied Heber. “He escaped from prison and
fled the city. My wife, Tirmar, left at about the same time
and she was mistaken for him, dressed as she is in man's attire.
Her description was given me and she it was whom I followed.”
The king became thoughtful again. Heber and Tirmar stood
quietly awaiting his next remark.
"We will find a place for thee here,” he said presently. “Thy
wife shall serve our queen and thou, Heber, shalt be attached
to our own person. Thy knowledge of Babylon may be of
service to us later. I would I knew the whereabouts of this
Sheshbazzar. I might place him upon his father's throne.”
This last was said in an undertone as if to himself.


THE ARAB MERCHANT
183
Gobryas was called and given instructions regarding the two
Jews. Heber was at once installed as one of the king's personal
attendants and Tirmar was introduced to Queen Cassandane.
The royal dame received her graciously. Suitable clothing was
furnished her and she entered upon her duties at once. In the
days following she became the favorite and confidant of her
royal mistress.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE ARAB MERCHANT
clue had prisoners. Nerefore the ima
Summer passed into autumn; autumn gave place to the short,
mild winter; winter in turn gave place to spring, and still the
earth seemed to have swallowed up Sheshbazzar. Heber as
we know had never returned. Therefore the king's prison was
minus two important prisoners. Not one word, not the slight-
est hint or clue had reached the ears of the king or rab mag
concerning the man they sought. Nabonidos took great pleas-
ure in reminding his chief adviser of the fate in store for him
should the escaped prisoner not be found. Consequently Vul-
maran was using every imaginable method of seeking news to
find out the prince's whereabouts. A vast corps of spies was
scouring the country, (at great expense to the rab mag), but
not the least scrap of intelligence had they brought in. The
king had never inquired about Heber. No doubt the monarch
believed him duly executed.
Affairs during the past eleven months had run in compara-
tively smooth channels. There had been some uneasiness among
the subject tribes to the south, but otherwise no political troubles
assailed Nabonidos. The only discord was between king and
priesthood, a trouble dating from Belshazzar's coronation day.
The entire body of the priesthood down to the youngest acolyte
supported Neboakhu, and so powerful was the class that Na-
bonidos dare not vent his anger upon the chief priest. Belshaz-


THE ARAB MERCHANT
185
did not. The visions of an aged Jew were meaningless to such
fiery Babylonians as Belibus and the other men he had drawn
into the circle. Only Nitocris heeded them and they gave her
pain. She remembered the wonderful Daniel of old, the inter-
preter of the great king's dreams and she remembered how Dan-
iel's interpretations came true. Even now she shuddered at the
remembrance of a small enclosed garden which no man was
allowed to enter. She remembered the greatest of Babylonian
monarchs crawling about that garden upon all fours and eating
grass as a beast of the field.
One wish was ever present with those engaged in the con-
spiracy to place Sheshbazzar upon the throne of his father; the
wish that he was where they could communicate with him.
Only one word had they received from him. Six months after
his departure an Arab merchant sought out Orma and presented
her with a silken shawl, “sent by the Arab Kadasman who had
once known her.” That was all and yet it was a clue. He was
with the Arabs and his name was Kadasman.
With the coming of spring, the caravans began to arrive in
the city to dispose of their wares. The friends of the absent
prince watched them closely and cautiously questioned each mer-
chant. One of his friends visited the market place each day, in
the hope of securing some tidings of the prince. Unless some-
thing was soon learned, they must send for him. This daily task
usually fell to Orma. The rank of the others might make such
duty dangerous for them. One day, late in the month corre-
sponding to our May, when Orma reached the market place she
found a caravan in possession, their horses and camels in the
background and their wares spread out upon rugs laid on the
pavement.
She cautiously approached the group, ostensibly to purchase.
She moved from one merchant to another, eagerly watching for
an opportunity to question them. The last merchant in the line,
an old man, was alone. As Orma leaned over to inspect his
goods, she cautiously asked him if, in his travels about the desert,
he had met with a young Arab named Kadasman.


186
RHESA
"I have,” he replied," "he is with us this trip. Wait a
moment and I will call him.”
He turned to enter a tent that stood some ten feet back from
the row of merchants. Orma stood speechless. The hot blood
came and went in her face. Could it be possible? Ah no.
There must be a genuine Arab of that name. What could she
say to him? How could she explain her asking for him? Be-
fore she had time to frame a sentence the old merchant returned.
Behind him strode a tall young Arab. At sight of the waiting
girl he sprang forward, and bending low he whispered, “Orma,
my own."
It was he! She knew him instantly even through his dis-
guise. It was the man she loved above all other men, the man
for whom she would have given up all that life held dear.
"Come,” he said, “I have finer silks in the tent.”
She accompanied him as he entered the tent. There was no
furniture within. Standing in the center of the confined space,
they looked into each other's eyes a moment. Then he folded
her to his breast and kissed her upon both blooming cheeks.
She rebuked him not.
“My own,” he whispered, "how has it gone with thee?"
"It has been well,” she answered, "only Heber. Not one
word have we ever had from him. I fear he has paid the penalty
of his deeds. We mourn him as one dead."
"Poor Heber," said the prince, sadly. He made no attempt
to dispute her belief. He too felt no doubt concerning Heber's
fate. They were silent for some moments, thinking of the young
man dear to both. Orma was the first to speak.
"Is it not dangerous for thee to return?" she asked.
· "I have no fear of being recognized. Thou wouldst not have
known me had I not made myself known.”
"Ah sir, thou art mistaken. I knew thee the moment I saw
thee,” she said.
"Then I hope the eyes of mine enemies are not as sharp as
thine,” he said smiling.


THE ARAB MERCHANT
187
"I fear for thee,” she said sadly. “The eyes of hate are
fully as sharp as those of love."
"I will be careful,” he replied, "for the sake of those who
love me and for the cause I represent.”
“Are any expecting me?” he asked a moment later.
“Many are hoping for thy return,” she answered.
"I fear it is too late. I fear my country is doomed. Only
yesterday a traveler from the north informed me that Cyrus
had crossed the Tigris with an army the largest ever seen. I
fear he will carry all before him; that all will be lost and the
great empire established by my grandfather will crumble into
dust. Nabonidos underestimates the strength of the enemy and
trusts his walls and ditches to defend him.”
Strangely, Orma did not take this information as sadly as she
ought. She, a Jew, could scarcely be expected to view the
world with the eyes of the man beside her. In her dreams for
the future the palace of Babylon had no part. She only dreamed
of a cozy little cottage under Mount Moriah. Sheshbazzar
was silent, thinking.
“I have a plan,” he exclaimed presently.
Orma listened.
"I will go to the king and inform him of the approach of
Cyrus. I doubt if word has yet reached him. Perhaps it will,
stir him to action.”
"Oh, sir!" exclaimed Orma. "Why expose thyself to such
danger ?"
“Danger!” he exclaimed. “There is no danger. The king
will not know me in this guise. Mayhap I will have opportunity
to see the queen.”
Orma made no further objection and in a few moments they
separated.
“I am coming to see thy father soon, my loved one,” he said
as they stood in the tent door.
She shook her head sadly, divining his meaning. She stood
silent a moment, her eyes downcast. When she again raised her
head, her eyes were swimming in tears.


188
RHESA
"Do be careful of thyself for my sake," she murmured and
was gone.
Late in the afternoon of the same day an Arab merchant
presented himself at the palace entrance and asked for admis-
sion to the king's presence. He urged important business as his
reason. After a long wait in the large entrance hall of the
palace a minor officer of the royal household came and ques-
tioned him. The Arab was wary in his replies, but succeeded in
convincing the man that he had important information to con-
vey.
"Wait here until I can apprise the king of thine errand,” said
the officer grandly, silently motioning the Arab to a seat.
Kadasman seated himself as ordered. During the wait his
mind dwelt upon his present position. He realized the temer-
ity of it. Discovery meant certain death. Not again could that
terrible chamber be foiled of its purpose. Once again in the
power of Nabonidos or his crafty rab mag there would be no
hope. No power on earth could save him. The fear of death
did not impress itself upon him, for he was not thinking of
death as it applied to himself individually, but rather as the
ending of his line, the final triumph of the usurper. His per-
sonal feelings were merged in the far nobler thoughts of his
house, his dynasty. Since knowing of his birth and lineage his
only thought had been to reestablish the royal line of Nabopo-
lassar and Nebuchadnezzar.
The officer soon returned with orders for the Arab to follow
him at once. Through the familiar halls and corridors his feet
had so often trod before, the fugitive followed his important con-
ductor. Did the latter but know it, the humble Arab behind
him was no stranger in this building; in days of yore he re-
quired no attendant to usher him into the king's presence.
With mingled feelings of curiosity and fear the Arab entered
the apartment so familiar to him. The great library was more
crowded than he had been used to seeing it. A hasty glance
about the room and at its occupants revealed a change in affairs.
The grand old nobles that he had been taught to revere, the men


THE ARAB MERCHANT
189
who had witnessed Babylon's glories, were not present. Either
they had become tired of the present regime and had withdrawn
from the councils of the king, or else the king had leaned toward
lesser minds and driven the old men away. Kadasman had
little time for observation or speculation for he was conducted
straight to the throne, the new councillors making room for
him. The Arab looked straight into the faces of the two mon-
archs as they sat upon their twin thrones, but he saw no signs
of recognition in their stolid countenances. He bowed stiffly
and then stood waiting for the monarchs to open the conversa-
tion. Nabonidos motioned to his son to conduct the interview.
“Thou bringest information of importance ?” asked the youth.
"Yea, O King, I bring tidings of vital importance to thy
nation.” He spoke in a low tone, intending his words for royal
ears alone.
“We await thy further speech," commanded Belshazzar.
“Know then, O mighty King, the armies of the Medes and
Persians have crossed the Tigris into thy territory and are
marching southward."
His words brought consternation to Nabonidos. A trembling
as of fear seized him. He looked at the Arab bewilderedly.
The suddenness of the announcement unnerved him; the unex-
pected proximity of the enemy appalled him. He sat silent for
some moments but at length, the first surprise passing away,
he became more calm. He called up Vulmaran and several
nobles. Kadasman at once recognized the latter as officers in
the army, men who only a year ago had been in command of
companies and regiments. Now they were generals. To his
joy he noted Belibus among those called. The Arab was di-
rected to repeat his information that these might hear.
A discussion followed. Not a plan had been formulated to
resist the invaders. Save for the canals and the mammoth walls
of the city, no defense existed; yet for fourteen years this attack
had been regarded as among things inevitable. Now that the
enemy was near at hand an army must be raised to resist him.
All was confusion. The conversation revealed the lack of a


190
RHESA
head. All these upstart generals were upon an equal footing.
There was no commander-in-chief. Indeed Vulmaran men-
tioned this at once and suggested that some general be appointed
to the supreme command.
“I will take command in person,” declared Nabonidos.
“But the government,” quickly interposed Vulmaran, realiz-
ing full well the value of Nabonidos as a general.
"Belshazzar is king. He shall govern until my return,” an-
swered the king.
At length after many words had been spoken but little of
value said, the various generals received some sort of orders.
One by one they left the room to undertake the fulfillment of
the orders. These orders were to assemble all available forces
at the city of Sippara. Already forty thousand men were there
or in the outposts beyond Accad.
Meanwhile the informer stood with folded arms, motionless,
his tall form erect, an interested but impassive listener. After
the last of the generals had departed Nabonidos remarked to his
son: “If only Nabomuran had not learned of his birth we could
feel more secure. I would match his generalship against that
of Cyrus any day.”
Suddenly he noticed the Arab.
"Ha, fellow," he cried, "why lingerest thou here? Begone."
The Arab bowed silently and turned to depart, but at this
instant Vulmaran interposed.
“Nay, O King, send him not thus away. He brought us news
of great value and should be amply rewarded.”
Nabonidos called the Arab back.
“What reward can we bestow upon thee for thy services ?” he
asked.
The Arab hesitated.
“I have a request to make but I fear thou wilt not grant it,"
he said.
“Speak, man, and it shall be thine if within our power to
bestow," said the king.
“I request the privilege of serving under thee against thy foes.


VULMARAN'S VISIT
191
At home, in the desert, I have been called a man of valor. May-
hap I can serve thee well."
“A noble request, Sir Arab," said the king. “Thy people
are not wont to serve under the Babylonians. I grant most
willingly that which thou askest. Thou shalt serve with me and
be attached to my staff. A place of abode shall be found for
thee in the palace until we are ready to advance against our
foes."
The officer who had conducted Kadasman hither was now
called and instructed to assign an apartment in the palace to
the Arab. He bowed and left the room, followed by the latest
addition to the Babylonian army.
CHAPTER XXIV
VULMARAN'S VISIT
Vulmaran, rab mag of Babylon, was not a happy man these
days. His fortune was rapidly dwindling due to the enormous
inroads made in it by his countless hosts of secret agents and
bribed officials. Already his beautiful and princely residence
was heavily encumbered and the holder of the mortgage was a
man he feared. By far his greatest anxiety, however, was con-
cerning Sheshbazzar. Barely a month remained in which to
find the fugitive and there seemed to be no hope of finding him.
This man, at whose instance more than one unfortunate had
tasted the horrors of the drowning chamber, had now the pros-
pect of experiencing them himself.
Upon the evening of the day celebrated in these pages by the
return of Babylon's prince, Vulmaran was pacing up and down
a magnificent apartment of his lordly mansion. His hands were
clasped behind his back, his head was bowed, his whole atti-
tude was one of the deepest dejection. His brow was over-
cast and his face pale. His lips moved as though he was talking
to himself.


192
RHESA
While still in this mood the draperies that screened the door-
way were pushed aside and Iddin, the gay son of the rab mag,
entered. An indefinable change had taken place in the young
man. His face wore a more noble expression, his whole bear-
ing was changed. Some revolution had taken place in the
young man's character.
His father did not at first notice his son's entrance, so ab-
sorbed was he in his own gloomy thoughts.
"Why father," exclaimed the youth, "what is the cause of
thine anxiety?"
"Ah, Iddin,” replied Vulmaran sadly, "never aspire to public
life. It has a golden glitter but beneath all is disappointment
and misery. Look at me. Did not I more than anyone else
win the throne for Nabonidos? Was not mine the hand that
slew the crazy boy king? What have I received for my ser-
vices ? An honorary position carrying no income, save such
public funds as I can turn my way. Now the king I made
would cause my death simply because this Sheshbazzar escaped.
Would to Bel I had taken his side rather than that of Na-
bonidos."
"Ah father, thou knowest I advised thee to support the prince.
From the first, before I knew Nabomuran was the Lost Prince,
I intended to cast my lot with him. Thou knowest well the
weakness and inability of Nabonidos. Why wilt thou serve him
longer ?”
“My son, what can I do? How can I serve a man that can-
not be found ?”
"Mayhap if thou assured his friends of thy interest in his
cause and promised thy support, they would send for him. No
doubt those in his councils know where he is."
"What thou suggestest is impossible, Iddin. The only way
for me to have mine own life is to place that man in prison.”
“That I am sure cannot be done. Thou hast scoured the
world for him and not even a suspicion has resulted. There-
fore, unless he returns and overthrows the present government
within a few weeks thou art doomed.”


VULMARAN'S VISIT
"Unless ." The rab mag hesitated.
“Unless what?" inquired his son.
“Unless the Persians end the empire before the time ex-
pires."
“That would be a calamity for the whole nation, father. We
must not save ourselves at the expense of our country.”
“Country indeed,” replied the rab mag, turning angrily upon
his son. “Is not my life of more value to thee than any gov-
ernment?”
"To me, yes, but not to thousands of my countrymen.”
“'Tis of myself alone I think,” persisted Vulmaran. “My
life is more to me than the whole world.”
"Ah, father, the selfish man must always lose. We cannot
think of ourselves alone. This world was not created for one
man but for the many."
"Nevertheless in this case the one man counts for more than
the many. I tell thee, Iddin, before I die in yonder chamber
I will open our gates to the Persian. Then Nabonidos will
see who it is he would put to death.”
"Then father, thou art no parent of mine." I would will-
ingly give my life to save thine but I will not be the son of a
traitor.”
“Iddin,” cried his father, more sad than angry. “I little
thought to hear such words from a son of mine. Tell me what
wondrous change has come over thee. Thy whole life is differ-
ent. Thy expenditures have fallen away to nothing. What is
it, Iddin, art thou to marry?”
“The change thou seest, father, means simply this. Mine eyes
are opened to behold the true God, the One Almighty Ruler."
“Nonsense,” sneered the rab mag, “thou art crazy. What
meanest thou? Hast thou turned Jew?”
"I believe in the same God they worship.”
“Then truly all things are coming to an end. When a Baby-
lonian forsakes his women, his wine and his gods truly some-
thing is sure to happen."
Iddin waited to hear no more but turned and left the room.
put to decrsian. Then yonder chamhan


194
RHESA
He had long been aware of his father's character but it was a
blow to him to find that he contemplated treachery.
After his son's departure Vulmaran sat down upon a couch
in the corner of the room. He was desperate. Something must
be done, but his usually active mind refused to assist him at this
time. He had been in tight corners before but some deep-laid
scheme, perhaps a murder, had saved him. Now all seemed lost.
As he had told Iddin but one loophole was left him. Cyrus
alone could save him.
His thoughts were again interrupted. The second intruder
was a Greek, one of the rab mag's most trusted spies.
"Well,” said Vulmaran rather testily, "what bringeth thee
here at such an hour?”.
“I have news of the utmost importance," replied the spy.
“Give it me quickly," exclaimed Vulmaran.
“I am in no haste," replied the Greek coolly.
"What meanest thou ?”.
“I mean this. Thou hast offered five talents to the man who
brings thee news of Sheshbazzar. I have news. He is in the
city at this moment. When the five talents are in my possession
I will reveal his present name and whereabouts."
"The gold shall be thine," cried Vulmaran. "Now tell me
where I can find this man."
"When I hold the gold in my hands I will give thee the in-
formation and not until.”
"Perhaps,” he added musingly, “the friends of the prince can
offer me more than five to keep still."
"Thou shalt have ten,” cried the rab mag.
The Greek turned to depart.
"I will be here in the morning. If thou hast the ten talents
ready the information shall be thine."
After so speaking he vanished through the doorway, leaving
Vulmaran alone with his troubles. The rab mag sank back
upon the couch, faint at heart. Ten talents! Where could he
obtain such a sum? The last time the house of Egibi had made
a loan to the king the rab mag had demanded a part in the
city at reveal his presenti nei cried Vulma


VULMARAN'S VISIT
195
profits. Refused, he had striven to rupture the negotiations,
thereby gaining for an enemy the only man who could now help
him. Egibi was already a creditor of the bankrupt officer and
could at any moment cause his ruin. All paths seemed closed
to him. For the sum of ten talents he could learn the where-
abouts of Sheshbazzar, but where could he find ten talents ?
There was one last resort and this desperate step must be
taken. Therefore he called for his chariot and when it came,
he stepped in. He mumbled a direction to his driver and they
set out for the destination mentioned.
It was past midnight, but all hours were the same to the
desperate man. After a drive of nearly three-quarters of an
hour the chariot drew up before the house of Neboakhu.
Vulmaran alighted and hurried to the entrance. He pounded
vociferously upon the door with his fists, making din sufficient
to wake the golden god on the temple's summit above him. At
length a sleepy servant appeared to inquire the cause of the
uproar.
“I must see the chief priest at once," said Vulmaran.
“My master dislikes being called at night, but if thou wilt
give me thy name I will see if he will come down," answered
the servant.
“Tell him his brother Vulmaran wishes to see him on urgent
business.”
The servant ushered him into the reception room where a dim
light was burning. To the waiting man it seemed as if the
servant was absent an eternity, but at length he returned. He
brought word that Neboakhu would soon be down. Some mo-
ments later the old priest entered the room. He had merely
thrown a long robe over his night attire.
“To what cause can I attribute the honor of this visit?” he
asked haughtily.
“Remembering we are sons of the same father I sought thee
out to ask of thee a favor. I am in a desperate plight and must
have ten talents before morning. Therefore I am come to beg
them from thee. Thy triumph is complete. I remember the


196
RHESA
last words thou spakest unto me when we parted never more to
be known as brothers. If after thy words I come to thee for
assistance thou canst see the urgency of my case.” The rab mag
spoke humbly, almost cravenly.
“Thou speakest right. This is a moment of triumph for me.
For thirty years have I awaited such a moment, and now it is
come. Now I shall have my revenge.”
The priest seated himself opposite his brother, and looking
him straight in the eye, spoke as follows:
“Let me see,” he said, “I am sixty years of age; thou art fifty-
five. Then it is just thirty years since the night Camada placed
her hand in mine and promised to become my wife. Ah Vul-
maran, I was a happy man. The foremost beauty in Babylon
had confessed her love for me, had consented to share the life
of the humble priest. The world contained no greater joy for
me than that. I was content. Mine ambition was for the
time deadened. All I dreamed of was life with my love. For
six months I lived in perfect happiness, little dreaming of the
blow in store for me.
"One evening I drove out to her father's residence in my
gay chariot. I intended that night to ask the old general for
his blessing upon our union. All the way my thoughts were
upon my loved one and the days of happiness in store for us.
I hardly felt myself a man that night. I was a god, dwelling
in clouds of light. All was radiant about me. That evening
was the supreme moment of my career. When I reached the
house, instead of entering it I passed around it to the garden,
knowing my love would be among the flowers, herself the fairest
flower of all. Ah, what a sight met my gaze as I suddenly
came upon her. There she stood, radiant in her beauty, but-
clasped in the arms of another! I sprang forward, maddened
at the sight. Murder was in my heart. I grasped the inter-
loper by the shoulder and whirled him around. Another mo-
ment and my dagger would have drunk of his heart's blood,
but in that moment I recognized the man. He was my father's
son. I turned to Camada and bitterly upbraided her, telling


VULMARAN'S VISIT
197
her to make her choice. She did so and bitterly did she regret
her decision. Against the villain, half my brother, but thanks
be to Bel, only half, I swore eternal enmity. Now after thirty
years I see him come cringing, fawning, begging for the gold
my labors have earned me.
"Tonight, Vulmaran, I have my revenge. Thou shalt have
the gold freely and without usury. By so accommodating thee
I win a more complete revenge than I would by refusing thee.”
The old priest was right. To accept so great a gift from the
brother he had wronged was more galling to the proud rab
mag than would have been the most indignant refusal. Ne-
boakhu left the room but returned in a short time. He handed
Vulmaran a clay tablet saying: "Present this to Bena Egibi and
receive from him that thou desirest.”
The rab mag arose. He was humbled and crestfallen. His
brother stood calmly before him, a smile of contempt upon his
thin lips. Twice Vulmaran tried to speak but the words came
not. At last he found the words he desired.
"Neboakhu I wronged thee it is true, but believe me, until
the night thou discovered me embracing the woman who after-
wards became my wife, I did not know she had promised her-
self to thee. For this present favor I thank thee. It may be
thy last opportunity. Ruin and death stare me in the face.
Egibi can take my house away from me at any time he chooses
and Nabonidos will take my life unless the miraculous happens
within the month.”
“Thine intelligence gives me pain," said the priest. “With
thy permission I will straighten thee out with Egibi. As re-
gards Nabonidos I am powerless to help thee. My life too
would be in danger but for his fear of the priesthood. Ah
Vulmaran, thy ways in life have paid thee ill. Poor as I am,
I yet am happier than thou with all thy scheming."
"Brother, for thy kindness accept my thanks,” said Vul-
maran.
"Nay, not kindness; revenge,” replied the priest.
A moment later the rab mag departed. As he passed out the


198
RHESA
door he muttered: “‘Poor as I am.' He is either a liar or a
fool and, as he is my father's son, I think the former. Had I
the revenues of the temple under my control I would make my-
self the richest man in Babylon. I believe him rich and if this
prince he so worships can be gotten rid of, the money will one
day be mine."
CHAPTER XXV
ENEMY OR FRIEND
☺ different circuumble as was his pie sun would
The following morning Kadasman arose early and made his
way to the large dining-hall at the rear of the palace where all
those connected with the kings household (and they were legion)
were fed. There in the company of door-tenders, messengers,
guards, charioteers, eunuchs and other servants of the vast es-
tablishment, he partook of his morning meal. As he ate he
could but think of other meals eaten in that building but under
vastly different circumstances. Still, he felt no unhappiness
over the change. Humble as was his present station he was
content with it for the time being. His sun would one day
rise and then he could look back with amusement upon the days
of his seclusion.
His position in the royal household was as yet undefined. He
had no duties and no superior to tell him what he should do
and whither he should go. Therefore his first act after finish-
ing breakfast was to seek the king and have his position de-
fined. As soon as he deemed it likely he could find Nabonidos,
he presented himself at the door of the reception room. The
time was well chosen. Both kings were in their places ready to
receive all who sought them. Kadasman was the first caller
this morning, and he was at once ushered into the presence of
the two sovereigns.
As he walked across the large apartment he fixed his gaze
upon Belshazzar and studied the lad well. A few months
cemedie king and'first act"


200
RHESA
admittance to the presence of the kings. Yet this was a nation
preparing for war with the foremost military power on earth.
Truly 0 Babylon, thy friends were thy worst enemies!
As he walked leisurely toward the palace entrance, Vul-
maran hurried past him. The rab mag paid no heed to the
Arab. The latter smiled after the encounter was over, smiled to
think of his successful deception. Ah, Sheshbazzar, if only thou
had some good fairy to render thee invisible and convey thee to
yonder room thou wouldst hear the rab mag cry to the king:
"Send a force to take yonder Arab. He is Sheshbazzar, the
man for whom we have searched these eleven months.” The
gold talents of Neboakhu had purchased the Greek's informa-
tion!
Meanwhile the unconscious Arab, secure in his disguise, was
walking leisurely through the palace hall. His step was slow
as is aways the step of one who has no goal in view. He sud-
denly conceived the idea of visiting his foster-father, whom he
had not seen since Belshazzar's coronation day. He would
have preferred visiting a certain house on the Borsipian road
but he felt his duty to the old priest to be first.
Afted leaving the palace he strolled leisurely toward the mar-
ket place. He wished to bid farewell to his desert friends and
obtain Saru who was still quartered with the horses of the cara-
van. The simple Arabs heard with wonder the tale of their
former comrade. All looked upon him as a favored being and
congratulated him accordingly. It was with deep and genuine
regret that he bade adieu to these simple but kindly friends who
had given him shelter when he most needed it. He had grown
to love them and under some circumstances would have enjoyed
spending his days among them.
After bidding these kind friends farewell, probably forever,
he mounted Saru and rode away toward the temple. Here was a
mistake. Far better would it have been to take the poorest
mount in the caravan, for what judge of horseflesh, having once
seen Saru, could ever forget him?
Shortly after turning into the temple street Kadasman met


ENEMY OR FRIEND
201
Iddin, the rab mag's son. The young noble hailed the Arab
at once and asked to ride at his side for a short distance; a re-
quest that was speedily granted.
"A fine horse thou hast there, my friend,” said Iddin.
“He is," replied the Arab. “This line of horses has been
bred in our tribe for generations.”
“Hast thou ever sold any here?”
“Many. We sell a few horses here every spring," was the
reply.
“I thought as much. I once knew a man who owned a horse
that resembled thine so closely that he must have been one of
the same breed. Mayhap thou sold it to him. His name was
Nabomuran. He was an officer in our army. Dost thou re-
member selling him a horse ?"
"I have never sold a horse to a man of that name, but this
is my first trip here with the caravan. Mayhap my brothers
sold it to him.”
"He has another name. Thou mayest recall him by that,"
pursued Iddin.
“What was his other name?”
“Kadasman,” replied the youth.
Before he could speak another word, he felt himself dragged
from his horse's back. The strong right hand of the pseudo-
Arab held him as in a vise. Iddin's horse, frightened at the
sudden attack, turned and ran wildly back toward the market
place.
“Thou art rough, my friend, and hasty too. I meant thee
no harm. I only intended to surprise thee," said Iddin.
“Thou didst surprise me genuinely,' said the prince grimly.
"I alone know thee to be Sheshbazzar and I was not sure
until I saw thee upon that horse,” continued Iddin, who was
still standing upon the ground, his clothing firmly gripped by
the man beside him. Saru stood impatiently, not relishing the
sudden stop.
This scene had taken place in that part of the temple street
bordering upon the great reservoir. At this hour of the day


202
RHESA
the street was deserted. It was too late for the populace, the
working classes, to be abroad and too early for the chariots to
begin their promenade, for this beautiful street was the Baby-
berian speedy, beggelump off with thee ile scano effect
"Come, sir,” begged Iddin, "we have been friends from child-
hood. See yonder clump of trees upon the water's edge? Let
us go thither that I may talk with thee.”
The prince hesitated a moment. He scanned Iddin's face
critically and searchingly, but his gaze had no effect upon the
youth. A certain feeling of confidence in him arose in the
prince's mind. He dismounted and silently followed the young
man to the retreat mentioned. He tethered Saru to one of
the trees, leaving line sufficient to permit his browsing upon
the luxuriant herbage that grew upon the bank of the vast
artificial lake. The two young men seated themselves upon
the shelving bank in the shade of the group of palms. The
morning was magnificent and yielding to their inclinations, they
stretched themselves upon the greensward.
“How camest thou to discover my identity ?" asked the prince.
"Well," answered Iddin, “it was accidental. I was passing
through the market place at about this time yesterday. Actu-
ated by curiosity I stopped to watch the Arab merchants as
they displayed their wares to the crowd. While I was thus
watching them I was attracted by the actions of a Hebrew
woman who passed from one to another of the merchants in
a peculiar manner. I recognized her as the one my father's
agents were watching, for rumor made her the love of Prince
Sheshbazzar. As I followed her with my eyes she reached the
last merchant in the row and, bending over, seemed to speak
to him in a low tone. He turned and entered a tent. A mo-
ment later he returned accompanied by a young man whose dress
and features betokened an Arab but whose stature and figure
could belong to but one man. Still I was not certain. His
disguise was well nigh perfect. Had he not conversed with
that one Jewish woman it is doubtful if I would have sus-
pected him. However when I saw that Arab mounted upon


ENEMY OR FRIEND
203
Nabomuran's horse all doubts vanished and I knew that Prince
Sheshbazzar had returned to claim his throne."
"It is useless for me to deny being that person,” said the
prince. "Such falsehood would not deceive thee. Now thou
hast penetrated my secret, Iddin, what art thou contemplat-
ing? Shalt thou put thy father's spies upon my track ?”
“Nay, sir," replied Iddin soberly, “I shall offer thee my poor
services."
“What meanest thou ?” cried the exile, half rising.
"Just this. I am disgusted with the present state of affairs
and will gladly join thee in whatever efforts thou mayest make
to gain thy throne.”
Sheshbazzar placed one hand solemnly upon his companion's
arm and looked him straight in the eyes for a moment.
“Iddin, art thou in earnest in this matter? Do not raise false
hopes within my breast and then hand me over to the king's
guard,” he said in a nervous agitated manner.
"Prince," replied the young man firmly, “I will subscribe to
any oath thou requirest of me. I am sincere. My mind is
settled and I am determined to follow thee to the end, be that
end what it may."
“Throughout my life," he continued, "I have been called a
gay and even a profligate youth. My most intimate friends
have secretly despised me for the utter uselessness of my life.
My very name has been a synonym for profligacy. “As gay as
Iddin' was a remark heard all too often. Those days are past.
Mine eyes have been opened and from henceforth I shall live
for a purpose. I shall make thee that purpose. I consider thee
my lawful king and as such I shall serve thee faithfully. If
when thou art firmly seated upon thy throne thou findest me
worthy and appointest me to an office under thy government
I shall be thankful but I ask for no promise. Only I must be
free to worship mine own God.”.
“Thine own God!"
"Yea, Prince. Thou hast heard of a God called Jehovah ?


ENEMY OR FRIEND
205
is known by all men to be on thy side. Then there is Belibus
and nearly all of his men.”
“How camest thou by such information?" demanded the
prince sternly. He was genuinely afraid for his friends if such
information was public property.
"Oh,” answered the youth glibly, “I have talked with them.
I have been interested in thy cause for many months and I have
often sought the advice of Belibus. He himself told me that
nearly all the members of the Winged Lions are in thy secret
and stand ready to strike for thee.”
"That is pleasant news," said the prince. He was perplexed
and bewildered. Evidently the rattlehead was deep in the
councils of the plotters, but still the fact remained of his being
Vulmaran's son.
"I doubt not,” continued Iddin, “that all the priesthood are
on thy side. They are certainly supporting Neboakhu, else the
king would have had his life long ago. The masses too have
an inkling of a coming conflict. They have heard thy name
and are waiting for the king who will arise and strike off the
burdens that oppress them.”
"With all these on our side we should win," mused the
prince, as one speaking to himself.
"Win!” cried Iddin, "we cannot lose. All that is necessary
is for thee to mature thy plans and give the word for all who
favor thee to flock to thy standard. We would soon have an
army to defy all Babylon."
“And all Persia ?” queried the prince.
Iddin's face fell.
“Ah, sir,” said he, “there is the only cloud upon our horizon.
We must win before they can get within striking distance.
With such a soldier as thee for king we could meet them fear-
lessly.”
"They have never yet met with defeat,” said the prince
sadly.
"Neither had Assyria, but thy great-grandfather broke her
power."


206
RHESA
“That was an entirely different matter. Assyria was a na-
tion weakened by luxury and excess, while these Persians are
stern and fierce warriors, hardy and rugged, eating only the
plainest food and able to stand all sorts of hardship. In the
coming conflict we resemble Assyria more than does Persia."
"Nevertheless, Prince Sheshbazzar, I believe thy genius can
defeat these terrible barbarians. If thou only claimed Jehovah
as thy god we might invoke His aid."
“Mine own gods must desert me first. They have helped
me when I most needed them and they will help me win my
rights."
Iddin shook his head in so sorrowful a manner that it made
the man beside him smile again, a smile of pity for his com-
panion's superstition.
“Nay Sheshbazzar, without Jehovah thou canst not win
though all the world be on thy side,” said Iddin solemnly.
“I pray my father shall not recognize thee," he said a mo-
ment later. “Dost thou know, were it not for the sentence
hanging over his head he would gladly be on thy side?"
“What sentence?".
“The king has decreed that unless thou art captured within
one year from the time of thy escape my father shall be exe-
cuted in thy place.”
"Iddin,” said the prince soberly, “there is just one way to
save thy father's life.”
"How?” asked the youth.
“We must win before that time expires."
“Thou art right,” cried Iddin eagerly, “and thy speech re-
moves a load from my mind. We must lay our plans at once
and hurry them forward to a successful completion, for the
remaining time is short.”
There was a clatter of hoofs upon the pavement. A hurried
shout of command was given and before either of the young
men could gain his feet they were surrounded by a band of
soldiers. One glance at the swarthy faces told Sheshbazzar


ALAS FOR JUDAH!
207
these were men who had never known him nor served under
him. No favors could be expected of them.
An officer, also unknown, stepped forward and laying a hand
upon the shoulder of Sheshbazzar, said. “Kadasman, I am
ordered to take thee in the king's name."
Not a movement was made in Iddin's direction. The pris-
oner saw this at once and turning fiercely upon his friend of
a moment before, cried passionately:
"False viper, son of a false father. I ought to have known
better than to trust thee. With thy smooth tongue hast thou
beguiled me until these should arrive. I will avenge this yet,
Iddin. From this moment thou art cursed.”
Iddin stood pale and confused beneath this denunciation. He
made no answer but suddenly a look of determination came into
his face. Sheshbazzar was bound and blindfolded and placed
upon a horse's back. After he was securely bound to his steed
the company started off in a northerly direction. Iddin threw
himself upon Saru's back and galloped off ahead of them.
CHAPTER XXVI
ALAS FOR JUDAH!
Orma was seated upon the couch in her favorite bower,
busily engaged with a piece of needlework. As she worked her
brain was active; indeed her thoughts outdistanced her fingers,
for occasionally her needle would stop and her hands would lie
idly in her lap. Finally she laid down the needlework, and
throwing her arms behind her head, leaned back against the
bower's supports and gave her whole attention to the thoughts
that had so interfered with her work.
As old age lives in the past so youth dwells in the future.
It was not thoughts of the past that triumphed over the needle-
work. Orma was thinking of the present and the future, espe-
cially as they concerned the life of herself and the man who held


ALAS FOR JUDAH!
209
While Orma sat thus meditating upon these conditions, her
father entered and seated himself beside her. He at once
perceived that she was in trouble, and his first words were of
inquiry concerning its cause. In a few words she gave him all
the information she possessed of the events of the preceding
day. The old man listened attentively, sorrowful in his daugh-
ter's sorrow, but having no real concern for Prince Sheshbaz-
zar's fate. His daughter's love for an idolater was daily grow-
ing more distasteful to the old man. Although confident that
she would never marry against his wishes, it yet troubled him
to see the love she made no attempt to conceal.
"God is our Ruler," said the old man solemnly as she fin-
ished speaking.
"I know He is, but O father, this last sorrow seems more
than I can bear. First Heber meets death at the hands of
yonder king and now the prince, the noblest and best of men,
follows in the same path. O father, our God is a just God.
He must punish the crimes of this wicked king.”
“Give not up hope so soon, daughter. He has once escaped
from their hands.” Thus spake Nehum in an attempt to com-
fort her, but it came not from the heart for he had but little
hope for the brave prince. She shook her head and replied:
"Nay, father, there is little ground for hope. His previous
escape will but make his enemies the more vigilant to see that
he does not elude them this time."
There was silence for a moment. Then Orma looked up
lovingly into her father's face. She laid one hand affectionately
upon his knee, as she asked: “Father, is it wrong for me to
pray for his deliverance?"
“Nay, daughter. Pray earnestly for it and at the same time
pray for his soul; pray that he may see the light and, forsaking
his idols of stone, turn unto our God, the Great Ruler, the All
Powerful.”
"Father?” she asked after another brief period of silence,
“dost thou bear ill will toward the prince ?"
"Nay, daughter. I regret that thy love is for an idolater


210
RHESA
but were he a worshiper of Jehovah I would gladly call him
'son'.”
"If only he would worship as we do," she said sadly.
For the moment they forgot the prince's plight and spoke
as though he were free.
"All is possible with God," said Nehum reverently.
"Only this day,” he continued, “Joshua informed me that a
young noble, the son of a high officer of state, had made earnest
profession of faith in our God. Joshua expects to receive him
into our worship soon. Thou seest then, daughter, there is
hope of his eyes being opened should he escape from his present
difficulty.”
“Joshua then has returned ?".
“Ay, he has been in the city for several days.”
"What tidings does he bring?"
"Our people everywhere are zealous in worshiping the true
God. The way seems open for our deliverance. Out of the
present crisis may come happiness for our people."
“Father!” cried the girl suddenly, as one possessed of a new
idea.
“What it is, my dear?”
“Suppose the deliverance of our people should come through
the prince."
"It is possible, my dear, possible. God works through many
channels.”
"Joshua brings us other news of the greatest importance,"
continued Nehum.
Orma said nothing but waited for him to go on.
“He brings a clue to the identity of the prince of Judah.”
An animated light came into her eyes. “Has he been found?”
she cried.
“Nay, daughter, but Joshua secured information that may
lead to the discovery of our prince."
"Father,” she said, "explain to me how it happens Judah is
without a prince. Thou hast told me once but I do not quite
understand it.”


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RHESA
remained, hoping and praying that her son might be restored
to her. That is all we know, my dear, but upon this tale hangs
the hope of Judah. If that child be living, he is the hereditary
prince of Judah.”
"Father," said the girl the moment he finished speaking, “I
have a thought concerning our prince. Thou rememberest the
account of Prince Sheshbazzar's rescue at the time of his father's
murder. A slave girl offered her child that the little prince
of Babylon might live. No mother, however humble her sta-
tion, would thus sacrifice her own babe. Ah no! That slave
girl gave up the prince of Judah to save the prince of Baby-
lon.”
"Alas," cried the old man in tones of the deepest anguish.
“I see it all as thou sayest. Alas for Judah!”
CHAPTER XXVII
IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY
When Kadasman or Sheshbazzar found himself again a pris-
oner in the hands of his enemies a dull, sickening sense of com-
plete failure came over him, crushing his proud spirit. From
the moment he had been informed of his royal birth everything
had been against him. He now felt all his struggles to have
been made in vain. He found himself wishing either that
Nitocris had not revealed his rights unto him or else that Ulbar
had allowed the drowning chamber to do its work. Notwith-
standing the horror of the death the agony could have lasted
but a few moments, and then oblivion forever; no more trouble;
no more enemies.
This feeling of despair at length gave way to an intense feel-
ing of hatred. If only he could escape and avenge himself upon
his enemies he would afterwards submit to torture and death.
He cursed himself for allowing Iddin's words to beguile him.


IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY
213
Meanwhile here he was tied to a horse's back, bound and blind-
folded, being led he knew not whither, except that it would end
in imprisonment and death. As the moments sped by he won-
dered at the length of time required to convey him to the royal
prison. His astonishment increased as they journeyed onward,
apparently with no intention of stopping. He at length judged
some new prison to have been provided for him beyond the
border of the city. Long since they must have passed the
palace and by this time should be well out in the suburbs.
At length the shouting of soldiers to their horses and the
splashing of water about him showed them to be fording a canal
or river. The prisoner's astonishment increased as each hoof-
beat placed them farther and farther from the city. Still more
did he wonder when an hour later they forded another stream.
He was all at seà as to his whereabouts.
Suddenly he heard the clatter of hoofs and a moment later
he heard the ring and clash of arms all about him. A thrill of
joy ran through him, awakening every dormant sense. Were his
friends seeking to rescue him? Before he could imagine an
answer to his own question he felt a hand upon his horse's
bridle and in a moment his animal was being dragged away from
the mêlée. He saddened instantly, thinking his captors were
making sure of him at all events. From the sounds of battle
dying away and the speed at which he was going, he judged a
detail of the band were hurrying him to a place of safety, leav-
ing their comrades to fight it out with his friends.
He heard a horse running close beside him and a moment
later a voice whispered in his ear: “Fear not, Sheshbazzar.
Thou art in the hands of friends and not enemies."
The voice was the voice of Iddin, the rab mag's son! Not-
withstanding the feelings of hate and contempt he had lately
held for the youth, a faint ray of hope shot through his soul.
Had his friends really rescued him? His judgment answered
him nay. Iddin was a traitor and was but playing with his
victim. If his friends had really rescued him, why did they not
unbind and unhoodwink him? Still, argue as he would, Iddin's


214
RHESA
words gave him hope. Above all was the realization that some
sort of conflict had taken place.
The cavalcade continued their journey not lessening their
speed in the least degree. The prisoner pondered why, if
Iddin's words were false, was it necessary for his captors to keep
up such a terrific pace. If they were king's troops they had no
fear of pursuit. His hope in Iddin's words grew stronger as he
reasoned thus. If, however, he was in the hands of friends, who
might those friends be? Time would tell. In the meantime
he resolved to sit quietly and accept whatever fate had in
store for him. He noticed that, save for an occasional low
word to their horses, not even a whisper was heard throughout
the band.
At length the speed was slackened and they soon came to a
halt. He judged from the bustle and shouting about him that
they were making ready to camp for the night. Soon he was
lifted from the saddle and placed, tired and stiff, upon the
ground. A meal was served him and then all became still. He
judged it to be late and turning upon his right side, was soon
asleep.
He was awakened early the following morning and made to
partake of a hasty breakfast. Then he was lifted upon his
steed and the company resumed their journey. A few moments
after starting they had settled into the same steady gallop pur-
sued the preceding day. Once they slackened their speed and
the prisoner knew from the sounds that they had been joined
by other troops. Not a word was spoken, yet he was sure the
numbers of those about him had been increased. The prisoner
judged they had been riding for six or seven hours when at
last the cavalcade halted. He felt his bonds loosened. A
hoarse voice (he felt sure it was disguised) commanded him to
dismount. He obeyed quickly and quietly. If in the hands of
friends he had nothing to fear; if in the power of enemies re-
sistance would be futile.
He was led, still blindfolded but entirely unbound, up a
Alight of steps into a building, down a corridor, up another


IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY
215
Alight of steps, down another corridor and into a room. When
inside he felt some one fumbling at his hoodwink. Another
second and the bandage was removed, restoring his sight to him.
He stood still a moment blinking in the bright sunlight. In
that moment his unseen conductor escaped through the door
and the prince could hear the bolts shot into place. He was
still a prisoner then, but in whose hands remained a mystery.
The room in which he found himself bore little resemblance
to a prison, even though he was confined therein. It was large
and light and contained all the furniture necessary to its occu-
pant's comfort. As the prince glanced about it he compared it to
the other cell he had occupied and his hope in Iddin's good
faith grew stronger. Vulmaran would never have confined him
in such a pleasant place. If however, he was in the hands of
friends, why was it necessary to still keep him in confinement?
As to the building containing his cell a glance out of the
wide window showed it to be the country residence of some
person of note and consequence. From the character of the
land he felt sure he had been carried toward the north. His
window looked out upon a large courtyard, now completely
filled with soldiers. He noted them carefully but all appeared
unfamiliar to his eye. Evidently Nabonidos had drawn heavily
upon the subject tribes, for none of the troops here represented
were Babylonians. The opposite side of the courtyard was
enclosed only by a low stone wall, thus affording him a view of
the country beyond.
Whatever was the nature of that country it was now im-
possible to see, for as far as the eye could reach the landscape
was covered with white tents, stretching away row after row
until they passed over the brow of a slight elevation. How far
down the opposite slope they ran he could not tell. ;
The size of the camp both astonished and pleased the pris-
oner. He was surprised that Nabonidos had been able to
gather together so vast an army in such a short time. It bor-
dered on the miraculous. What surprised him also was the
great discipline and order manifest throughout the camp. Long


216
RHESA
ago he had urged upon the king the necessity of better training
for the Babylonian soldiery and he was now pleased to see the
fruition of his suggestions.
The remainder of the day he spent at the window gazing
upon the wonderful scene before him. All was activity. He
could see mounted men dashing about through the camp, while
occasionally a general officer, followed by his retinue, ambled
up the hillside. The scene in the courtyard was particularly one
of bustle. Messengers came galloping in, hurriedly dismount-
ing, and disappearing within the building. His heart sank
within him as slowly it dawned upon him that the villa con-
taining his cell was the general headquarters of the camp.
Soon, if not already, Nabonidos would be under the same roof
with him. Again his mistrust of Iddin returned. Still if he was
a prisoner of Nabonidos that monarch had completely changed
his methods of treating offenders.
Toward night the door of his chamber opened and a negro
entered bearing a tray with a most appetizing repast thereon.
Having been without food and drink since early morning he was
in a condition to do ample justice to the meal provided. While
he ate the servant stood silently behind him and when he
finished, carried the tray away. The prisoner heard him as
he carefully barred the door behind him. He had no more
visitors that day, and as soon as the room became dark, he
stretched himself upon his couch.
Weary from his long ride he soon fell into a deep sleep and
did not rouse until the bright rays of the morning sun, falling
across his face, awakened him. He arose at once and hurriedly
put on such of his attire as he had removed before lying down.
To his astonishment he found that his coarse Arab dress had
-been removed and in its place he found garments of the richest
materials and dyes. Once arrayed in them he felt himself again
a Babylonian noble. Standing upon a low stool beside his
couch was a beautiful helmet of polished bronze, studded with
pure gold, and leaning against the wall near at hand was a
long bright sword. Had the prince possessed a mirror he


IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY
217
the day he studie paced in to wh
would have noted with surprise that the stain had been removed
from his face, and his beard had been trimmed.
Shortly after he had completely attired himself in the fine
vestments furnished by his generous captor, the door opened
and the servant again appeared. Again the prisoner did full
justice to the meal provided. From the viands composing his
dainty breakfast he derived the first hint as to his whereabouts,
for the food was not Babylonian in its character. As before the
servant gathered up the remains of the meal and left as soon
as the prince had finished eating. Again the prisoner heard the
door barred. Surely beneath the glove of velvet could be felt
the hand of iron.
The day wore away slowly. Soldier though he was and
closely as he studied the camp outside, the occupation proved
monotonous. He paced up and down the apartment; he lay
down; he did all he could to while away the time. If his first
day of confinement passed thus slowly what would those to fol-
low be ? Noon came and with it came the negro with a light
lunch. The servant departed as before, barring the door behind
him. The prisoner gave himself up to another weary time of
waiting and watching.
He was not doomed longer to endure his solitary confinement,
however, for shortly after the negro's departure he heard other
footsteps approaching. They stopped before his door and he
heard the bar removed. The door swung open and a man
entered, closing the door behind him. Sheshbazzar gazed upon
him in perplexity. It seemed as if those handsome, mobile
features were known to him, but for the moment he could not
remember where he had seen them. In an instant, however, he
remembered the man and advanced joyously to meet him.
"Rastagus!" he cried, grasping both his hands.
"Nabomuran!” exclaimed the other.
“Call me no longer Nabomuran," said the prisoner. "I am
that Sheshbazzar of whom we spoke upon the desert.”
"Prince of Babylon, I salute thee!" exclaimed the Mede.
im. The
watching; longer to


218
RHESA
"I too must change my name," he said a moment later.
“Hereafter know me as Cyrus, King of Anshan.”
The words were spoken quietly but with a simple dignity in
perfect keeping with the lofty position of the man. Shesh-
bazzar recoiled a step from sheer astonishment. His old com-
panion of the desert, the conqueror of Asia ? It seemed incred-
ible; his mind scarcely comprehended the simple announcement.
Yet the man before him was every inch a king, and clad in a
manner which, while of studied simplicity, was in keeping with
his station.
Cyrus smiled at the effect his announcement had upon his
guest. He waited a moment for the first surprise to die away
and then addressed the prince.
"Prince Sheshbazzar," he began, “the events of the past two
days must have been perplexing unto thee. Thou wert taken
prisoner by the troops of Nabonidos but awake to find thyself
a guest of Cyrus. The explanation is simple. For some rea-
son I cannot fathom the troops of King Nabonidos carried thee
out of the city and headed north toward Sippara. The only
motive I can conceive for this course was the fear of thy friends.
I am told thou once escaped from the king's hands and there-
fore he probably feared thy friends would again rescue thee.
However that may be, to the course pursued by thy captors I am
indebted for the pleasure of entertaining thee.
"A body of my cavalry was reconnoitering in the vicinity of
Babylon when they encountered a solitary horseman, riding
fiercely northward. They stopped him and questioned him. He
informed them a young man of high birth had been taken pris-
oner and would be conveyed along that road. Recognizing them
as belonging to my army he requested them to rescue the pris-
oner and conduct him to my camp. He pledged himself that
I would approve of such action. The soldiers accordingly
selected a strategic position and then awaited the coming of
thy captors. At length they appeared and my men charged
them. During the struggle thou wert rescued and, without


IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY
219
waiting for the encounter to end, a half dozen of the men
rode away with thee.
"As their act was unauthorized by me they continued to treat
thee as a prisoner and this treatment was continued up to the
moment I entered this room. The young man who brought
word of thy capture sought me out and informed me of all
concerning thee. I heard with pleasure of thy presence and
gave orders concerning thy care. I have waited thus long
before seeking thy presence in order to give thee time to re-
cover from the weariness caused by thy adventures.
“Now, prince, listen to me. Upon the memorable night I
spent as thy guest on the desert I related to thee a tale which
at the time I little imagined bore such reference to thyself.
Thou rememberest the tale? I told of meeting an old Chal-
dean in his cave and of the vow I made at that time; that I
would assist the young Prince of Babylon in gaining his throne.
That prince has been found in thy person and I stand here this
day, backed by an army whose numbers I do not know myself,
prepared to redeem the vow made by me more than twenty
years ago.”
He ceased speaking and stood as if waiting for an answer.
"I do not understand thee," said Sheshbazzar.
“In other words, my friend, I stand ready to place thee upon
thy father's throne,” replied Cyrus.
The full sense of the great conqueror's generosity did not at
first appear to the young man. Yet here was a king, confident
of capturing a great empire and adding it to his own domain,
offering to give away that empire as he would bestow a silver
piece upon his servant. As it dawned upon the prince's mind
he was astonished at the offer, an offer absolutely without
parallel in the history of the world. Such an unselfish use of
power had never before been known. What a difference the
acceptance of that offer might have made in the world's his-
tory!
Sheshbazzar was silent for several moments. He was think-
ing as never man thought before. He reviewed all the points


ON THE MARCH
221
“Therefore I cannot relinquish my undertaking, but one
opportunity I can give thee. Go thou to Babylon, raise an army
and come out to do me battle. We need not meet personally.
Upon the issue of that battle we will abide. If thou canst but
check my advance I shall take it as an omen from the gods and
withdraw, leaving thee to thy kingdom. I shall fight, however,
as I have never fought before and nothing short of a miracle
can prevent my reaching the gates of Babylon. Once I reach
those gates thy kingdom is doomed."
“I accept thine offer or challenge, whichever it may be
termed," said the prince. “I will go directly to Babylon, de-
clare myself before the people, trusting to the gods to give me
success.”
"Tomorrow then,” said Cyrus, “I will turn over to thee all
the Babylonian prisoners I have taken thus far, together with
such horses and accoutrements as thou wilt need for them. With
thy departure at their head I shall consider my vow fulfilled
and from that time forward, until the battle decides who rules
Babylon, we are enemies. Whichever wins, from that time on-
ward to eternity we are friends. I half hope the victory will
be thine but I shall do all I can to defeat thee.”
Both men smiled. There was something so unusual, so un-
real about this compact. These two men, now the best of
friends, were coolly planning to become the worst of enemies
and then, when one of them was beaten, become friends again.
CHAPTER XXVIII
ON THE MARCH
The following morning a rather motley company was gath-
ered in the courtyard of King Cyrus's headquarters. It con-
sisted of all the Babylonian soldiers the conqueror had picked
up during his rapid march across the plains of Chaldea. They
had composed the numerous small and detached garrisons that


222
RHESA
were strung along the northern and western frontiers. All had
surrendered to Cyrus after a mere show of resistance. In all
they numbered nearly six hundred men and all were soldiers
trained to their vocation and inured to hardships. Many a suc-
cessful rebellion has started with fewer numbers.
King Cyrus had shown no niggardly spirit in mounting and
arming the band. He gave as good as he had, and he had the
best the world of his day afforded. The soldiers as yet had no
idea of their destination. Exchanges of prisoners were a court-
esy of war unknown at that time and once a man became a
prisoner to the enemy he became his slave. It is more than
probable the majority of the men supposed they had been given
their freedom that they might serve under the banner of Cyrus,
and such was the level of Babylonian patriotism at the time
that they would have obeyed implicitly if such had been their
orders.
When all was ready for the start Sheshbazzar came out of
the villa and critically looked them over. He passed up and
down the ranks, examining the horses, the arms, the mules,
the servants. His inspection convinced him yet more of the
conqueror's disinterestedness and generosity. He turned to
mount the horse a servant was holding for him. A smile of
glad surprise lit up his features as he noticed the steed to be his
beloved Saru. Without questioning the manner of his being
there he vaulted to his back. Turning in his saddle he ordered
his company to fall in. Slowly they wheeled their horses into
columns of fours. The Persian soldiers standing about laughed
at their clumsiness.
"Forward,” cried Sheshbazzar and the cavalcade was in-
stantly in motion.
King Cyrus failed to show himself at this time. Earlier in
the morning he had visited his guest and engaged him in a brief
conversation, after which they parted not to meet again until
the day of battle. Out through the archway the prince led his
command and once outside he headed southwest toward the
Sippara road.


ON THE MARCH
223
Sheshbazzar as he rode across the grassy plains, strove to map
out some plan, some course of action. Here he was at the
head of six hundred men, not enough to make a satisfying meal
for the soldiers of Nabonidos should they turn cannibals, and
he realized he could do little with the force now at his com-
mand, but where could he dispose of them until others could
be enlisted. There were many topics of thought all demand-
ing instant attention. His status with the men, they following
him blindly they knew not whither, must be defined, but he
doubted the wisdom of taking them into his confidence at once.
None knew as well as he how the army of Babylon teemed with
spies. He doubted not that Cyrus knew the details of every
regiment in the service of Nabonidos.
He realized, however, that this was a chance he must accept
sooner or later, as he could not expect loyalty from men who
knew not for whom or what they served. At present not a
man among them was known to his commander by name. He
felt himself in a delicate position. He longed for a confidant,
an adviser. He resolved to enlist the services of Belibus at the
first opportunity, but he felt the need of an adviser at the pres-
ent moment.
So intent was he upon these thoughts he paid little heed to
what was going on about him. He glanced up occasionally to
see that he was leading his men in the right direction but not
once did he look behind him. He did not therefore observe
the rapid approach of two galloping horsemen who were strain-
ing every nerve to catch up with him. Unconsciously the prince
had allowed Saru to travel at a rapid pace and his followers
were obliged to hurry their beasts to keep up with him. At
length the two horsemen caught up with the band and in an-
other moment were abreast of its commander.
Sheshbazzar turned quickly at sight of two men, one riding
on either side of him. He looked from one to the other in
astonishment although he had suspected one of them to be with
Cyrus. The newcomers were Iddin, son of Vulmaran, and


224
RHESA
the
flushed deeply aparted with his machis life from
Heber, son of Nehum. After a brief word with the first named,
the prince turned affectionately to his former servant.
“Heber," he said, “I supposed thee dead. Thrice welcome
then is this meeting. Tell me how it happens thou art alive
and at liberty."
Heber related the incidents of his life from the moment
he had angrily parted with his master up to the present. He
Alushed deeply as he told of his compact with Vulmaran, but
the prince smilingly reassured him.
“I have permission from King Cyrus to join thee in thine
undertaking and here I am master, ready to retrieve the past
with my life if needs be," he said in closing.
"Ah Heber," was the reply, “we little know in what paths
our passions will lead us. Thou fell a victim to thine ambition,
as many a man has done before; as indeed I may before this
present venture is completed."
“Dost thou then accept my services?” asked the young Jew
eagerly.'
“Gladly, Heber.”
“And mine?" asked Iddin.
"And thine also, Iddin," he replied.
Turning to the rab mag's son he held out his hand.
"Iddin, canst thou forgive and forget the hasty words I
spake unto thee when I found myself a prisoner? Remem-
bering whose son thou wast, I suspected thee of having betrayed
me into the hands of mine enemies. I have since bitterly re-
pented the words."
“Thy words stung me at the time, Prince, but I have since
forgotten them. I can see how thou wouldst suspect me. Had
I been in thy place no doubt I would have said more than thou
didst,” replied Iddin, smiling.
Sheshbazzar now possessed companions with whom he could
discuss his plans. True, neither was very valuable as an ad-
viser but even such rattle-brains as Iddin sometimes advance
original ideas. Moreover both men were devoted to him, not-
withstanding that both had previously opposed him, Heber in


ON THE MARCH
225
active rebellion and Iddin by assisting his intriguing father.
The prince had no hesitation about placing his affairs before
his companions. He explained to them the problems con-
fronting him. Both advanced suggestions and strange to state,
their suggestions coincided. The plan outlined by Heber and
concurred in by Iddin while simple, impressed its salient points
upon the prince. It embraced first, the selection of an easily
found but at the same time secluded spot for a camp where
Sheshbazzar and his men could remain while Heber and Iddin
went on to Babylon. They would at once place themselves in
touch with the prince's friends and begin active recruiting.
Once the force had acquired sufficient strength they would
march on the city and wait for a dark night when the priests
or some other friendly party would open the gates to them.
"Wilt thou accept recruits from among my people?" asked
Heber.
The prince remained in thoughtful silence for some moments.
It was not the first time his mind had dwelt upon this question.
Heber waited quietly for the answer he expected.
"No, Heber," said the prince finally. “Thou knowest the
regard I have for thy people but in the present case I would
prefer not to enlist their services. I fear the acceptance of
Jews might deter some whom I desire from joining me."
The words were spoken kindly and Heber had sufficient sense
to prevent his taking offense at them. He could appreciate his
former master's reasons for the decision.
The plan suggested for the conduct of their campaign was
again taken up and considered in all its phases. They felt the
necessity of at once finding such a spot as they had in mind
for a camping place. The prince decided it ought to be at
least a day's journey from Babylon; in other words about mid-
way between the city and the present location of the Persian
forces. To find a place at once, secure from observation and
yet so easily found as to enable their recruits to reach it without
difficulty, seemed an impossibility. Such a spot would be an
anomaly, but ere nightfall they found one.


226
RHESA
Heber's plan had one defect in the eyes of Sheshbazzar. It
necessitated taking his present troops into his confidence at
once, a step he dreaded. but there seemed to be no alternative.
As Iddin truly said, it must be done sooner or later and perhaps
it would be best to learn at once those they could depend
upon. Still it was a step at variance with the prince's better
wisdom, realizing as he did how one traitor can overbalance
a thousand friends. It being necessary to take such a step,
it was decided the men should be called together and told all,
trusting to the almost universal hatred of Nabonidos to in-
sure their taking the prince's part.
The day's march was uneventful. Aside from a brief stop
for lunch upon the banks of a small stream, they kept steadily
on without interruption. The only variety to the monotony
of their steady progress was the constant search for the de-
sired camping place. Occasionally Heber or Iddin, or per-
haps both, would gallop ahead of the rest to search for such
a spot. Late in the afternoon Heber left them for at least
the fourth or fifth time and was soon lost to sight. So long
was he gone that at last Sheshbazzar halted his troops, fearing
that the young man had left the route they were traversing and
had been passed by. As the prince was on the point of sending
out parties to search for him, he was seen coming, galloping
across a large field and waving his arm in glee.
“I have found the exact spot we desire," he cried when
within hearing.
Iddin was left in command of the troops while Heber led the
prince to the spot he had found. The commander was fully
satisfied with the site and they returned to the road where the
main body awaited them. The command to move forward was
given and, preceded by Heber, they marched across a field of
wheat and another of barley. After crossing the fields they
forded an irrigating canal and then plunged through a wooded
marsh. Once through this last they were within the camping
place discovered by Heber. It was a field of waving grass con-
taining upwards of an hundred acres. It was completely hid-


ON THE MARCH
227
.
den by the surrounding belt of woods and it was moreover
capable of being stoutly defended in case of attack.
Once inside the men dismounted and preparations for the
night were begun. The generosity of King Cyrus had sup-
plied them with a few tents but by no means enough to shelter
the entire command. Many of the troopers therefore con-
structed rude booths of tree boughs interwoven with smaller
branches. While these preparations were going forward Heber
and Iddin set out on foot to completely explore the vicinity.
Their chief object was the discovery of some distinguishing
landmark that might serve to guide recruits to the camp. In
half an hour they returned and reported the finding of a ruined
tomb upon the side of the camp toward Babylon. The tomb
was situated beside the highway (the Sippara road) from which
the camp was easy of access to those aware of its existence. The
ruined tomb was a guidepost that none could mistake.
After the evening meal had been prepared and disposed of,
the prince had the men assemble in the center of the camp
that he might address them.
"Soldiers of Babylon,” he began, "a noble enemy has granted
thee thy liberty that thou might take part in an enterprise which,
while fraught with danger, is yet one of honor."
He then briefly sketched to them the events connected with
the murder of King Evil-Merodach and the rescue of his child,
ending with these words: "Fellow soldiers, this babe is still
alive and is now grown to manhood's state. He it is who is
the lawful king of Babylon. He is about to claim his throne
and to thee is extended the invitation to assist him in that
attempt. Ye all knew Nabomuran, Captain of the Guard.
Recognize in him at once the speaker and Sheshbazzar thy
lawful king."
A loud outburst followed his speech. The prince hastened
to secure silence for fear the noise would be audible to any
who might be passing along the road.
"Men," he said when quiet was restored, “can I depend upon


VOICES IN THE WOODS
229
had aroused him. All was still, only the slight rustle of the
leaves on the trees surrounding the camp disturbing the quiet
of the night. He was unconvinced however; he was sure
there was some cause for his sudden awakening. After listen-
ing for several moments he decided to make a tour of the camp.
He arose noiselessly and wrapped a long cloak about him.
At the tent door he stopped to listen again. All was quiet,
save for the rustling of the wind through the trees and the
tramp of the nearest sentry, who was stationed but a few feet
from the prince's tent. Sheshbazzar hurried past him; the man
recognizing him said nothing. Upon reaching the outskirts
of the camp the prince again stopped to listen, but heard nothing.
He was still sure that some disturbance had awakened him and
continued his walk, stopping only to question the next sentry
he met.
“Hast thou heard any disturbance?” he asked.
"Not a sound, sir," replied the man.
He continued his tour of inspection until he reached his
starting point. He had neither seen nor heard anything to
indicate a cause for his awakening, but he was still uncon-
vinced. Determined to be fully satisfied that nothing was
wrong before he again retired to his tent, he began a second
tour. This time he chose a route completely within the belt
of woods. Inadvertently as he progressed his steps led him
deeper and deeper into the woods. He could still catch glimpses
of the camp through the openings between the trees and he
realized he was straying farther away, but he made no move
to change his course. An irresistible attraction was drawing
him onward.
Suddenly he stopped and listened. Then he took several
cautious steps forward and again stopped to listen. He dropped
upon his knees and crept slowly forward, after the manner of
an Arab searching in the sand for the footprints of his quarry.
For nearly thirty feet he thus crept along, ending his uncom-
fortable journey at a small grassy knoll beside a clump of
small trees whose branches were so interwoven as to make of
the wooden progressed his within the belt


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RHESA
the clump a natural screen. Lying prone upon his stomach the
commander listened attentively to two voices engaged in con-
versation upon the opposite side of the leafy barrier.
“Tell me I say what object thou hast in view," said a voice.
"That is my own affair,” replied the other.
Desirous of beholding the speakers, Sheshbazzar pushed aside
the boughs in front of him so quietly that the speakers heard
no sound to warn them of his presence. Wriggling himself as
far into the clump as he could penetrate, he as last contrived to
open a way large enough for him to peer through. Upon the
opposite side of the barrier was a slight elevation, carpeted with
a velvety rug of grass and surrounded by trees and shrubs.
Upon the summit of this elevation two men sat side by side.
Notwithstanding the dim light the observer was able to recog-
nize them clearly. They were Iddin and Shemakin. A feel-
ing of distrust for the former again found lodgment in the
prince's mind despite the devotion he had thus far shown. The
prince decided to remain in his present position and hear what
was said by this ill assorted pair.
“Tell me plainly,” said the first voice, which he recognized
as Iddin's, “what line art thou to follow while here?”
"I tell thee, sir," replied the other, "that whatever I do
or do not do, not one man shall hear from my lips of my in-
tentions."
"Be careful, Shemakin. Remember how much of thy past
is known to me."
"Threaten me not," exclaimed the other. "Whatever I may
have been concerned with in the past, others higher in rank
than I have been more guilty. When I go down others go
with me.”
"I threatened thee not," said Iddin.
"It seemed like a threat," answered Shemakin.
"Nay, I meant it not so, but I insist on knowing what part
thou wilt take in this present undertaking. Shalt thou fight
for yonder pretender or shalt thou take the part of another?”
“That sir, no man shall know."


VOICES IN THE WOODS
231
"I will know, Shemakin, ere we leave this spot. Unfold to
me whatever plan thou mayest have. Mayhap we can work
together. Remember, though I am in the prince's confidence,
yet I am still the rab mag's son."
The man seemed mollified for when he spoke again it was in
a less sullen tone.
"Thou knowest sir,” he said, “I did not choose this com-
pany of mine own will. The king must have heard of my
relations with thy father else he had not sent me so far
from Babylon. I had scarcely reached my post when I was
captured by the Persians. I welcomed this chance of gaining
my freedom. Thus I am here and if I see it to my advantage
to remain I shall be a true follower of the prince. If on the
other hand thy noble father would make it worth my trouble,
how easily I could slip out of camp some night and let him
know of the prince's whereabouts. Methinks Vulmaran would
be glad to get such news.”
· "Such a step might be easy but thinkest thou my father
could reward thee sufficiently ?”
"He has always paid well before.”
“True, but let me tell thee, Vulmaran has neither the money
nor the power he once had.”
"Then let me know what I can get for following this prince.
Thy father has always been good to those who served his pur-
poses and I will not change horses without gaining thereby.”
“Not a promise wilt thou get from the prince. I sometimes
think I will get little for mine own allegiance."
"Art thou then a true follower of this man?” inquired
Shemakin, surprised.
"I really do not know myself,” replied Iddin, "were I not
my father's son I could follow him to death, such is the magic
of his cause, but I ofttimes feel myself the most contemptible
of traitors to thus support the man whose escape from prison
will undoubtedly cause my father's death. Whatever my
father's faults, and I have disapproved of many of his actions
as he well knows, he is still my father and has been to me the


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RHESA
kindest parent boy ever had. Ah, Shemakin, people little know
the private life of public men. Execrated as they may be for
their political deeds, at home they are often the best of men.
However, much as a man owes his allegiance to his father, his
country must come first and I believe from the bottom of my
heart that unless the present dynasty is overthrown, Babylon
is doomed. When therefore I joined myself to this man it was
with the hope that he would triumph and with him on the
throne we could face the world.”
The old saying that eavesdroppers ne'er hear good of them-
selves was certainly discredited in the present case. Shesh-
bazzar swore never to distrust Iddin again after hearing these
words, but in another moment his doubts became stronger than
ever before.
“However, Shemakin," continued Iddin, "a man who betrays
his own father is detestable and I am sorely tempted sometimes
to be the means of capturing this prince, thereby saving my
father's life. One word only would be needed. Merely men-
tion the location of this camp and an army would be sent
against it. The king would honor the man by whom the
information came, for I have heard say that Nabonidos sleeps
not of nights for fear of Sheshbazzar.”
"Ah sir," said the other eagerly, “were I but in thy place I
would not allow another day to pass without giving that in-
formation. This prince is good and noble, and I would like
well enough to see him king. Still one's self comes first and to
advance myself I would sacrifice him. Say thou the word and
I will carry a message from thee to the king and I will share in
thy advancement."
"Wait; we will see," answered Iddin.
There was a crash of breaking branches and Sheshbazzar
stood facing his two subordinates.
"Ay, we will see," he cried. “Who will betray me in that
manner? The first who moves dies on the instant.”
He placed his hand upon his sword (which he had put on


VOICES IN THE WOODS
233
before leaving his tent) and faced them resolutely. Both men
cowered before him.
“Iddin," he cried turning to the young man, “I have sus-
pected thee from the first, but this exceeds my worst expecta-
tions. Hadst thou never pretended friendship for me and the
cause I represent, I would honor thee for seeking to save thy
father by sacrificing me; but to do so in the treacherous manner
thou hast mentioned should be beneath even thy father's son."
“Sir!" cried Iddin, springing to his feet in sudden anger, “I
am unarmed and cannot resent this insult as a man should, and
even were I armed I am no match for thee but had I a sword
one of us would die here and now. Suspect me indeed! What
right or cause hast thou to suspect me? Wherein have I been
treacherous to thee? Thinkest thou if I had wished to betray
thee I would have ridden to secure aid to rescue thee from thy
captors? How much easier would it have been for me to have
left thee in their hands? Why should I wait until thou hadst
six hundred men to fight for thee? Ah no, if I had planned
to betray thee thou wouldst at this moment be lying in thy
dungeon.”
Angry though he was Sheshbazzar could but see the logic in
Iddin's reasoning for certainly there could be no object in
obtaining the prince's rescue and then betraying him. He stood
silent a moment regarding the rab mag's son. His anger re-
lented but still the words “we will see” lingered in his mind.
"Forgive me Iddin for being so hasty,” he said after a
moment, “but look at the circumstances of this night. I was
awakened by I knew not what, though now I imagine it was by
thy leaving the tent, and arose to see if aught was wrong in
my camp. Accidently I stumble upon two of my officers talk-
ing together in the woods and I hear words of treason spoken.
I hear a plan suggested and he whom I have trusted says 'we
will see to it. Who would not suspect the man who thus
agreed to a scheme of betrayal ?”.
"We may talk freely now," said Iddin quietly but tensely.
“Shemakin has gone."


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RHESA
hot wille will
the
Sure enough, during the angry talk of these two men, in-
tended by nature to be friends, the snake had glided away
through the grass unseen.
"Now sir," continued Iddin, “thou hast this morning done
more injury to thy cause than thy worst enemy could do. This
man Shemakin I recognized as one of my father's most trusted
tools and I set myself the task of watching him. It was my
intention to take Heber into my confidence and we two would
have taken turns watching him by day and night. I followed
him out here this morning and, as thou has no doubt heard,
attempted to draw him out. It was to keep him in my power
that I acquiesced in a plan to betray thee. Now thou hast given
him his opportunity. While we were upbraiding one another
he has gone and I doubt not will go directly to my father.”
"We must capture him. We will return to camp at once
and order out the men in pursuit," said the prince.
“Yea, we will try, but I fear me he will not be caught. He
is the most slippery villain I know of, so much so that my
father actually feared him.”
"Then Iddin, we must be prepared to meet whatever force
can be sent against us," said the prince.
"Yea, and believe me, it will be no small force. Rather than
have thee escape him Nabonidos will send his whole army."
"We shall prepare then to meet the whole army,” said the
prince quietly.
"If I am defeated,” he added, “I must blame myself. Let
us now return to camp and see what can be done toward catch-
ing this fellow. Come, we will go, and Iddin," he turned to
the young man and held out his hand, “let us be friends."
"Friends!” cried Iddin, “Yea, till death itself parts us. Oh,
suspect me not. I swear by all I hold dear I am truly thy fol-
lower. Welcome the day when an opportunity comes for me
to prove my devotion.”
Ah Iddin, thy chance is coming!


PRIEST AND BANKER
235
CHAPTER XXX
PRIEST AND BANKER
The rebellion of Sheshbazzar had now reached a point from
which there could be no withdrawing. The prince was in camp
at the head of six hundred well-armed men, preparing for a
contest with the forces of Babylon. His six hundred, however,
even after receiving the training he would give them during
the next few days, were but a handful compared with the hosts
Nabonidos could send against him. It was therefore imperative
to multiply his force many times over and that at once. Ac-
cordingly the plan agreed upon was arranged for without delay.
Immediately after the morning meal the three leaders engaged
in a conference to which Belmurda and Nebogurza were after-
ward admitted. The departure of Shemakin and the probabil-
ity of his giving information concerning them made haste
necessary. Sheshbazzar, from his perfect knowledge of the
king's habits, argued that it would be at least ten days before
troops would be sent against him.
“I must disagree with thine opinion,” said Iddin, "my father
will urge the king to prompt action. I would place the date
for an encounter not more than five days distant."
The brow of the prince darkened. He was sad and gloomy
this morning. The future seemed forbidding. He beheld
clearly the almost insurmountable difficulties ahead. It seemed
already as if his cause was lost. For fear of disheartening his
associates, however, he quickly conquered all appearance of
despair and entered into the discussion with the air of a man
confident of success. As a result of the conference it was de-
cided that Iddin and Heber should leave at once for Babylon
to begin their recruiting. On the way they were to make dili-
gent search for Shemakin and if captured it was deemed best
for them to bring him back to camp.
Shortly before ten o'clock the two recruiting officers bade


236
RHESA
farewell to their leader and associates and turned their horses
toward Babylon.
"In three days thou wilt see yonder road covered with bodies
of men marching to join thee,” cried Iddin gaily.
"If Shemakin does not bring an army down upon us first,"
said the prince.
“Never fear. We will have him back before night,” an-
swered Iddin.
After saying a last farewell Heber and Iddin rode out
through the narrow passage the soldiers had chopped through
the woods. Although many small bands had scoured the sur-
rounding woods and fields since daybreak no sign of the fugitive
had been discovered. All had returned without the least clue
and it now devolved upon the two horsemen to overtake him.
They went fully armed, knowing he would not be easily taken.
It was deemed likely he would head straight for the city rather
than skulk in the vicinity of the camp. Their surmise correct,
they were confident of finding him, as a short distance south of
the camp the monotonous flatness of the lower Mesopotamian
plain began. The belt of woods surrounding Sheshbazzar's
camp was the last bit of forest of any pretensions to be met
with in journeying toward Babylon from the north.
Once upon the broad highway they urged their horses into
as fast a gait as was consistent with the distance to be traversed.
They were between forty and fifty miles from the city and they
were determined upon reaching their destination before night-
fall. Therefore if the search for Shemakin delayed them ever
so little they must push forward at top speed in order to reach
the city before the gates were closed. For two hours they
galloped steadily on. The nature of the country traversed by
them was such that they made little search for the missing man.
On either side of the great road lay broad, far-stretching, flat
plains affording no hiding place for the fugitive.
Toward noon they halted upon the bank of an irrigating
canal and ate the simple lunch they had brought with them.
As soon as the last mouthful had been eaten they remounted


PRIEST AND BANKER
237
and plunged through the canal on their journey. The horses
they rode were strong solid beasts, too heavy for great speed
but capable of great exertion and their riders pushed them to
the limit of their endurance.
Ten miles from their lunching place they paused at the first
dwelling they had thus far encountered, to inquire if a man of
Shemakin's description had passed that way. The owner of the
farm informed them such a man had stopped there, procured
his dinner and purchased the farmer's colt, paying such a price
for the beast that the old man chuckled as he told of it. The
two men looked at each other in dismay.
"How long since he left?” Heber found the breath to ask.
"Two hours," was the reply.
"Is thy colt fast?"
"Fast,” cried the farmer, "the king himself has no horse to
catch him.”
After thanking the old man for his information they walked
back to where their horses were browsing beside the road. They
mounted immediately and again pushed forward at top speed,
but theirs was a listless pursuit. Shemakin, mounted upon a
fast colt with two hours start of them, would reach Babylon in
safety and once he was within the city walls they could do him
no harm.
Five miles farther on they met a column of soldiers, number-
ing fully a thousand spearmen and half as many bowmen. Their
commander was known to Iddin, who at once questioned him.
Yes, they had seen Shemakin a long way back. He should be
nearly to the city by this time. Where were the troops going?
To Sippara, whither troops were now hurrying. Forty thou-
sand were already there and from now on the great highway
would be filled with marching columns. Nabonidos was moving
at last!
“Thou didst not ask him to join us,” said Heber, when they
were again in motion.
"No, Heber, it would have been useless. Besides every man


238
RHESA
that reaches Sippara is one less who can be sent against the
prince."
“If all the troops go forward, we can enter the city without
opposition,” mused the Jew.
"Ah, Heber,” said Iddin, “I am in this cause for life and
death but I fear we cannot succeed. If the Persians had only
waited one more year! However God knows best.”
The Jew turned quickly at his companion's last sentence and
would have spoken had not Iddin forestalled him.
“Be not surprised, Heber. I worship thy God,” he said and
then relapsed into a moody silence which Heber had the cour-
tesy not to interrupt.
Late in the afternoon their tired horses walked across the
drawbridge and through the great gates into the Golden City.
Shemakin had preceded them by more than the two hours he
had originally led them. Their first care when within the city
was to seek out an abiding place. Neither young man thought
it best to visit his own home. The same refuge suggested itself
to both, the priesthood. Under the sheltering wing of the tem-
ple they felt they would be safe. Accordingly they turned their
horses' heads toward the temple. By this decision they spared
themselves the danger of passing through the city. The temple
and the city of the priests lay to the north of the Shebil Canal.
The entire tract between the canal and the inner wall was the
property of the temple and the crops raised thereon went to
the support of the priesthood.
A half hour's ride brought them to the residence of Ne-
boakhu. The old priest himself came to meet them, welcoming
them cordially and bidding them enter. When informed of the
object of their errand and of their desire to make his home
their headquarters he immediately acquiesced. Leaving thein
jaded beasts to the care of the servants they followed the old
man into the dwelling.
“How goes it with the young prince?” he asked tenderly.
Iddin gave him all the information he possessed.


PRIEST AND BANKER
239
"He is at last under arms and prepared to strike? May the
gods grant him success," said the old man solemnly.
“And we are here to enlist men,” continued Iddin.
“Methinks the men will be plenty. There is a great spirit
of dissatisfaction underlying the minds of all men. Thou
wilt obtain thy recruits but great caution must be exercised.
Enlist the regular soldiery if possible. They could start osten-
sibly for Sippara and when near the prince's camp, leave the
road and join our forces. It will not be necessary to take the
common soldiers into thy confidence. Enlist the officers and the
men will follow them.”
“That is our plan," said Iddin.
He then told the priest of Shemakin. The news was re-
ceived with consternation.
"Should he prove traitor all is lost," he said. “The king will
attack before we can add to the forces under the prince's com-
mand. This man must be found and his loyalty purchased.”
“Ay,” replied Iddin, “gold will make him our best friend,
but where is the gold? With that at our disposal we could
buy the king's whole army.”
"And the king himself,” added the priest laughing. “As for
the gold, it shall be forthcoming. Get thou the men and I will
find the funds to pay them.”
They passed into the dining room and were served with a
hearty meal. Long they lingered over the wine that night and
the hour was late when at last they sought their couches. Iddin
felt himself honored when he stretched his limbs upon the
couch long used by the man he hoped soon would be king of
Babylon.
Immediately after the early morning service in the temple,
the three men set out upon their errands, the two younger to
begin their recruiting, and the elder to arrange for the finances.
Iddin and Heber were mounted while Neboakhu rode in the
chariot once used by Nabomuran, Captain of the Guard.
Shortly after crossing the canal they separated, the young men
turning off to the left in order to avoid the more populous


240
RHESA
streets and the chief priest keeping straight on toward the cen-
ter of the city. At the market place his chariot turned to the
left and passed down one block, drawing up before a substan-
tial edifice, apparently a place of business. Upon the stone
lintel over the wide doorway these words were cut:
EGIBI AND SONS
It was therefore to the foremost bankers of the ancient world
that the old man made his morning visit. A servant met him
at the doorway and conducted him through the counting room,
where a dozen clerks were at work recording the affairs of the
house upon blocks of clay, into a handsomely appointed waiting
room. His inquiry for the head of the firm elicited the infor-
mation that he was at the moment engaged with two distin-
guished clients.
"I will wait," said the old man.
His period of waiting was by no means a short one but he
sat patiently. At length the door of an inner room opened
and a clerk showed two men out. They were Vulmaran, the
rab mag, and Ninabeth, the treasurer. So the king was bor-
rowing!
The clerk who had showed them out, beckoned to Neboakhu
to enter. The chief priest followed him into the room and in
another moment stood face to face with the power behind the
throne, the man who controlled the king's finances.
"Is it indeed Neboakhu who visits me?" asked the great
banker, rising to greet his guest.
"It is 1, friend Egibi,” replied the priest, smiling.
"It is many a day since we have met, yet once we were good
friends. However thou hast thy duties as well as I mine," con-
tinued the banker.
They conversed upon unimportant matters for a few mo- ,
ments as old friends will when they meet, but the banker's time


242
RHESA
"There are no gods," answered Neboakhu.
“Ha! At last we agree upon that point. It was long a
subject of discussion between us.”
"We are not quite agreed," said the priest. "I am slowly
inclining to a new belief. I more than half believe there is
one God and only one."
And that is ?”
“The God of the Jews.”
There was silence. Here was a polytheist, a heathen if you
will, teaching a man whose forefathers were Jews, which was
the true God. Egibi was silent and sad. When at last he
spoke there were tears in his eyes.
"Ah, Neboakhu, I sometimes think that is true," he said
solemnly.
A moment later he was again the stern man of business.
"I cannot grant thy request,” he said. “For the first time in
my career I am about to reveal the affairs of a client. I do so
knowing thou wilt hold my confidence inviolate. I have just
refused the king a loan upon the same security.”
"The king has no right to offer it," said the priest sharply.
"Possibly not,” replied the banker, “but it was not on that
account I refused the loan. The case is this: The Persians are
about to capture Babylon and will seize all the treasures in the
city. Where then would be my security ?".
“I am not so sure of their success as thou seemest,” said the
priest.
“I am sure,” said the banker. “Drop this king making, Ne-
boakhu. It is dangerous business, especially for men of our
age."
"Not I,” replied the priest majestically. "I shall fight my-
self, if need be, to place our rightful king upon the throne.
Can we but seat him before the Persians come we need not fear
them.”
"Possibly, but I must refuse to make the loan. I regret the
necessity. For old friendship's sake I would be glad to grant


THE HANGING GARDENS
243
it, but to do so in the face of the present uncertainty would be
unwise."
"I have a last resort,” said the priest.
“What is that?"
“Use the security itself.”
“That is a matter for thee to settle with thyself,” said the
banker.
The priest arose to depart and the banker arose to bid him
farewell.
"The man of business refused thy request, Neboakhu, but
the private man hopes for thy success," said the Jew smiling.
“Many thanks for thy good wishes, Egibi,” said the priest,
adding: “I bear thee no ill will for thy refusal.”
"Were it not for the black clouds in the north, my friend,
every shekel in our coffers would be at thy disposal,” the banker
- said in parting.
The priest departed, leaving the man of finance to his vaults
and his bars of gold. That evening the three men compared
their experience. Iddin announced the result of his and Heber's
recruiting as upwards of a thousand men, but he added sorrow-
fully that they had been unable to find any trace of Shemakin.
CHAPTER XXXI
THE HANGING GARDENS
The day following Orma's conversation with her father con-
cerning the lost prince of Judah, she was again sitting in her
bower occupied with her embroidery. Her thoughts were still
dwelling upon her lover and his fate, but she was not as pre-
occupied as on the preceding day.
It was shortly after noon, an hour when all who could do
so were taking their midday nap, but the day was a particularly
cool one for the climate and the time of year, making her re-
treat far from uncomfortable even in the heat of the day. She


244
RHESA
had just parted from her father who followed the custom of
the country as regarded a nap after dinner.
Orma had been seated in her bower but a few moments when
Ruth came to inform her a servant from the palace desired
speech with her. This was nothing unusual as, since her con-
nection with her royal friends at the palace, she had been sent
for upon several occasions. She gave orders to have the mes-
senger conducted to her presence and Ruth piloted him thither.
Orma recognized him at once as the same man who had brought
her similar messages upon previous occasions. He handed her
a silken bag containing a small tablet of clay upon which a mes-
sage was engraved. It was worded something after this man-
ner:
The Palace,
5th Tammuz.
To ORMA, DAUGHTER OF NEHUM:
May the blessings of the gods rest upon thee. Canst thou
meet me in the gardens by the reservoir immediately? I have
news of importance to communicate unto thee. The bearer of
this, my message, will conduct thee thither.
NITOCRIS.
"Art thou to conduct me to the gardens?” she asked the
slave.
"Such are my orders,” he answered quietly.
"Wait thou here one moment and I will be ready to accom-
pany thee,” she said.
She ran into the house, returning in a moment. During her
absence she had added a soft fieecy wrap to her attire, and had
thrown a light silken shawl over her head.
“I am ready," she said.
The servant preceded her to the street. Orma stopped only
to leave Ruth a message for her father, and then followed him.
Before the house stood a simple chariot, waiting to convey her
to the Hanging Gardens. The servant assisted her to enter
the vehicle and stepped up beside her. She driver had evi


THE HANGING GARDENS
245
dently received his orders, for no words passed between the
two men. As soon as his passengers were in the chariot, he gave
his steeds the lash.
After a half hour's drive through the nearly deserted streets
the chariot drew up beside the land entrance to the gardens, a
broad brick platform from which the first flight of stone
steps led upwards to the first of the four terraces. The servant
alighted at once and held out his hand to Orma. She barely
touched her finger tips to his as she sprang out upon the landing.
The servant spoke a few words to the driver, who bowed in
acknowledgment and then drove away. The servant, direct-
ing Orma to follow him, started to mount the broad steps.
She followed him blindly, wondering what it all meant, but
trusting in the magic word “Nitocris.”
As they hurried along the path leading from the summit of
the first flight of stairs to the base of the second, Orma feasted
upon the incomparable beauty of the scene about her. Every
known country had given its best and most beautiful to adorn
the fairyland Nebuchadnezzar raised on high as a plaything
for his Median queen. Tall palms and stately poplars inter-
mingled their swaying branches; flowering plants and shrubs
from every clime lent their sweetest perfumes to the air. Fruits
from the north and fruits from the south were mingled in an
indiscriminate orchard, while beneath, half hidden in the vel-
vety greensward, the rarest of flowers raised their dainty heads.
Here and there a sweet-smelling honeysuckle wound round and
round a stately trunk until its blossoms were hidden in the
dense foliage.
It was the beauty of wild nature, with hardly a glimpse
of man's handiwork. No mathematical flower beds, no trees
pruned into fantastic shapes, no spelling of names in flowers.
The very paths led at random through the masses of verdure
with never a hint of regularity or precision. It was yet the
very height of artistic gardening. Small animals, against whom
no weapon had ever been raised, ran in and out through the
underbrush without fear; so tame that they paid little heed to


246
RHESA
the presence of a human figure. The antelope merely raised
its pretty head and gazed curiously out of its gentle eyes. The
nervous hare but stopped his gambols for an instant and then
frisked about again.
The servant, giving Orma but little opportunity to gaze on
the beauties of this artificial paradise, hurried along the path
toward the stairs leading up to the second terrace. Up they
went, down a path, up another fight of stairs and so on until the
topmost stage was reached. Here the servant left her after
pointing down a path and saying: “Keep straight on and
thou wilt find the queen waiting for thee."
Orma hesitated a moment and then walked slowly, not with-
out misgivings, in the direction he had indicated. Thus far she
had met no human being since alighting from the chariot, but
as it was an hour of the day at which few people were abroad
(and they only of the lowest classes) and further since the
gardens were not open to the general public, she need feel no
surprise at being alone. Still the solitariness of the place op-
pressed her and the first feeling of fear came over her as she
thought how strange was the manner in which she had been
brought here. She remembered how quiet and melancholy the
servant had been. On previous occasions she had always been
conducted to the queen's apartments.
"Mayhap it is no longer safe for us to meet there,” she rea-
soned to assure herself.
At the moment these words formed themselves in her mind
she turned a sharp corner and emerged upon a broad terrace
before a small but handsomely constructed villa. Directly be-
fore her stood a divan formed of the twisted branches of trees.
Upon the divan sat a woman, her face toward the villa and
her back toward Orma. The girl sprang forward eagerly all
her fears dispelled. As she was about to speak the woman
turned. It was not Nitocris! Seeing the girl she smiled.
“Come, my dear, be seated. Thou must be weary after
climbing all these steps,” she said.
Her voice was soft and musical but deeply tinged with sad-


THE HANGING GARDENS
247
ness and, as Orma looked upon her, she noted the tragic melan-
choly printed upon her beautiful face.
“Why art thou here?” asked the woman after Orma had
seated herself.
"I came at Queen Nitocris's bidding to meet her here," re-
plied the girl.
"Queen Nitocris? Here?” exclaimed the woman in tones of
the deepest surprise. “Queen Nitocris has not visited this place
in many years."
“Knowest thou what yonder villa is?" she asked a moment
later.
“Nay,” replied Orma. “I have never before visited the gar-
dens."
"It is the residence of the king's concubines.”
Orma started. “And thou?" she asked.
“Oh, I am one of the concubines,” answered the woman
bitterly.
Unconsciously Orma drew away from her but the unfor-
tunate woman noticed it and said:
"Fear me not, girl. I cannot hurt thee."
As she spoke a low whistle was heard in the shrubbery near
by. The woman arose quickly, glanced apprehensively about
and, bending low over Orma, thrust something into her hand.
"I must go," she whispered. “Quick! Hide this!"
"This” was a small dagger with a gem-studded handle.
Orma glanced in fright at the woman and hurriedly hid the
dagger in the bosom of her gown. The next moment she was
alone.
There was a rustle in the bushes and with a frightened look
Orma turned in that direction. As she faced about a young
man, gaily attired, stepped out of the bushes. He bowed low
and approached her with an air of the greatest gallantry. As
he neared her he doffed his silken cap with a sweeping bow.
Orma shuddered as she recognized in the youth Belshazzar,
King of Babylon.


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RHESA
"Ah, my lady, is it chance that gives me the long sought
opportunity of meeting thee?” he asked suavely.
"Nay, not chance; villainy,” she answered passionately.
"Hard words ill become such lips as thine, my sweet," he
said with a smirk.
She stepped backward.
"What, afraid of thy lover?” he said stepping toward her.
“Thou art not my lover,” she cried, hardly realizing what she
said.
"Ah, but I am, my black-haired queen,” he replied.
"Come," he added, "be not afraid of me. I am here to
plead with thee, to offer thee the honor of becoming Baby-
lon's queen.”
“Thou art already married,” she said.
"Yea,” said the king, "I am married if thou wilt call it so,
but I would make thee first. These are not wives." He waved
his hand toward the villa. :
"If thou hast any pity for a defenseless girl, O King, thou wilt
let me depart at once,” said Orma, stepping to one side that
she might pass him.
"Not so fast, my pretty,” said Belshazzar, blocking her way.
"Thou art in my power now and shall not leave this place
against my will. Thou shalt become my wife, peaceably if
thou wilt consent, by force if thou art stubborn."
She trembled violently. She had long feared the youth.
Several times he had stopped her in the palace halls but she
had always successfully evaded him. Now she felt herself
alone without a friend. She reasoned that Belshazzar would
not attempt such an enterprise without being attended. Even
now yonder bushes might conceal his slaves whom she knew
would obey his every word or motion. She remembered the
dagger and was on the point of reaching for it when she
changed her mind, thinking it best not to reveal its existence
so soon. It might prove of more value later. Then, too, she
realized that if, as she supposed, he had slaves near they could
easily disarm her. She therefore made no attempt to produce


THE HANGING GARDENS
249
no oramaiate med defiantly into
the dagger but stood defiant, waiting to see what his next
move would be.
Belshazzar stood irresolute, watching her and gazing long-
ingly upon her. His eyes were inflamed with passion and boy
though he was, she trembled before him.
"Remember, girl," he said at length, “if thou consentest
without obliging me to use force it is honorable marriage I
offer thee, but if thou forcest me to use violence, there will be
no marriage."
Orma looked defiantly into his face, her full lips curved
with contempt and loathing for the youthful libertine.
"I cannot consent to such a marriage,” she said. “Beside I
have already given my promise to a man whose death I fear is
upon thy head.”
"I know not thy meaning, girl," said Belshazzar, genuinely
surprised, for he had not been present when Vulmaran made
his announcement and arrangements for capturing Sheshbazzar
were discussed.
"I mean that the day before yesterday thy soldiers took him
who some day—perhaps—will be my husband and carried him
away to prison.”
"By Nebo girl, I know nothing of this matter. I swear
no one has been taken prisoner of late so far as I am aware."
"It may have been thy father.”
"No," he said, “I am aware of all my father doeth. There
have been no prisoners taken of late. To be sure we are
searching for one Sheshbazzar but I fear he will never be
taken.”
"He is the man,” she said quickly, and then bit her lips in
vexation. She could have bitten off her tongue once the words
were said, but it was too late. If they had him prisoner they evi-
dently knew not his identity, and she felt she had murdered
him. Now that she had acknowledged him her lover Belshaz-
zar would doubly hate him. She felt sick at heart because
of her thoughtless speech. So intent was she upon her own


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RHESA
thoughts that she noticed not the effect her words produced
upon her tempter.
The boy king started at mention of Sheshbazzar's name; his
face assumed an expression of joy and eagerness, but this soon
died out.
“Nay, by the gods, that were news too good to be true. Had
he been captured I would be the first to hear of it. I swear,
girl, thou art wrong.”
"I may be,” she said, hoping to retrieve her error.
“How much better would it be to marry one already a king
than one who aspires to be," pursued Belshazzar, returning to
the original subject.
“Better Sheshbazzar a slave than thou a king,” she cried
hotly.
“Oh, ho, is that thine answer ?” he asked.
“Thou mayest take it for an answer if thou choosest," she
said.
“Think, girl, what thy refusal meanest and think also what
it is thou refusest. I swear by Bel I would raise thee to my
rank and make thee my queen. I tell thee again I will love
and marry thee if thou consentest, but if this refusal is per-
sisted in "he pointed toward the villa.
"Thou wouldst love me until another caught thy fancy,"
she said.
"Nay, girl. I swear I love thee. I will make thee my wife
and my queen in one. I swear to love and honor thee.”
“And these ?” she cried, pointing to the villa.
A cloud passed over the brow of the young king.
“Remember,” he said, “there are two kings in Babylon. With
the inmates of yonder pavilion I have little concern, but I
swear to thee if thou wilt become my wife I will forsake all
others for thee alone.”
"It is of no use, O King. I do not love thee and never can.
Besides, think of our rank; thou a king and I but a captive
maiden.”


THE HANGING GARDENS
251
"Speak not of rank,” he said, “and as for love, I can make
thee love me. Come, my sweet, what sayest thou?”
“It cannot be. Now I pray thee let me go,” she cried.
“Go! Never! Thou canst only go with me.”
“I shall not go with thee,” she cried as, before the aston-
ished king could stop her, she leaped past him, and ran down
the path toward the stairs with a speed born of desperation. It
was a useless attempt. What could she do alone? As she
ran past a clump of bushes a negro sprang out and caught her
by the shoulder, bringing her to an abrupt stop. Another fol-
lowed and another. In a trice she found herself bound, gagged
and hoodwinked.
She was caught up and thrown upon the shoulders of her
captors. A few moments later she could feel them climbing
a few steps. As a door closed behind them, the realization of
where she was being taken came to her with sickening distinct-
ness. There was but one building in the vicinity and that the
king's harem!
Her bearers kept on down a long hall and then paused be-
fore what she judged to be her cell. A moment later she felt
herself lowered. She was laid gently upon a couch and ap-
parently left alone for she heard those who had brought her
depart, closing the door behind them. In another moment,
however, she was conscious of deft fingers at work untying her
bonds. First her limbs were freed, then the gag was removed
and at last the napkin fell from her eyes. She blinked a mo-
ment and then looked about her.
A rapid glance revealed the nature of her prison. It was
a small but luxuriously furnished apartment, lighted by a large
latticed window that looked out upon the great reservoir whose
waters washed the base of the Hanging Gardens. After mak-
ing a swift inventory of the room she looked for the jailer who
had freed her bonds. At the head of the couch, seated upon a
low hassock, was the woman she had seen in the garden. Orma
sprang up with a cry of hatred.


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RHESA
"Harlot,” she cried, “thou hast betrayed me into the hands
of this man.”
"Be seated, girl," said the woman with a sad smile. "True
it is I was required to sit yonder in the garden and detain thee
there but it was done against my will. Trust me. I may be of
service to thee."
Orma touched her gently on the arm as she said: “Forgive
me, I knew not what I said."
"I cannot stay here,” said the woman rising to depart. At
the doorway she stopped, turned towards the girl and said :
"Remember what I gave thee and hesitate not to use it. Be-
lieve me, death is far preferable to life in this den of wicked-
ness.”
A moment later she was gone, but almost immediately the
door opened again and another entered. The newcomer was
Belshazzar.
CHAPTER XXXII
A WORD OF WARNING
Upon the morning of their second day's stay in Babylon
Heber and Iddin left the chief priest's house early. Both had
arisen with a firm determination to make that day's work much
more satisfactory than the previous one had been. As Ne-
boakhu had well said they must gain recruits faster than that
if Sheshbazzar was ever to become king.
From their stopping place they went directly to the great
military camp without the walls. They found a most animated
scene. During several days past large bodies of soldiery had
been arriving at the capital from all the adjacent portions of
the empire, until no less than sixty thousand men were en-
camped upon the great plain. This day was the one appointed
for breaking camp and starting upon the march to Sippara.


A WORD OF WARNING
253
great rapidiime as the intaingling w
Already one corps was there while another was directly op-
posed to the Persian lines near Accad.
After the infantry had broken camp and gotten well under
way the cavalry was to mobilize upon the same spot and when
organized they too were to march northward. The latter,
owing to their great rapidity of motion were expected to reach
Sippara at about the same time as the infantry.
The young men put in a busy day, mingling with the troops
and dropping now and then a few words to lead on the men.
Notwithstanding their efforts the recruits came slowly. At
noon not over two hundred men had agreed to fall out of line
at the old tomb and join the pretender's forces. All of those
who refused to join the movement had the same excuse, “The
Persians." Truly the rebellion of Sheshbazzar was ill-timed.
At another period when no outside forces had to be reckoned
with he might have been successful. Nevertheless the day was
crowded with interest for the young men. They watched as
regiment after regiment formed ranks and marched away to
join the defenders at the north.
Shortly after noon they were astonished to see two bodies of
cavalry wheel into the field and prepare to go into camp. They
were ahead of time by at least one day. The surprise of the
young men was still further increased by seeing the arrival of
the Winged Lions, who came on the field less than an hour
after the other horsemen. Curious to ascertain the cause of this
change of program they sought out Belibus. The young chief-
tain welcomed both most cordially. He smiled as he addressed
Heber. The young Jew had some misgivings regarding his
reception at the hands of his former adversary, but the soldier's
greeting placed him at ease immediately. Belibus had once
turned him over to the king and felt therefore he had no further
duty with him.
“What brings all these horsemen here at this time?" asked
Iddin when the greetings were over.
“I know not, unless some reconnaissance is to be made. A spy
named Shemakin had the king's ear this morning and imme-


254
RHESA
diately after we were ordered into camp. I suspect the spy
brought news of the Persians' actions, but I have received no
orders to indicate our destination,” said Belibus.
“I can tell thee what this means,” said Iddin. The mention
of Shemakin's name had shown him all. He then told Belibus
of the location of Sheshbazzar and his band and of Shemakin's
defection. He made no mention of Cyrus's name or deeds,
however.
"By the gods!” exclaimed Belibus. “What am I to do? I
am a soldier of Babylon but I cannot fight my old commander.
This is a poor time for his step, Iddin. We here had decided
to drop our plans until the Persians were first disposed of. We
have accordingly passed the word along to all in our confi-
dence."
“That then accounts for our lack of success today,” said
Heber.
"I can advise thee what to do, Belibus,” said Iddin.
"I am listening."
"When thou art sent against the prince, instead of oppos-
ing him, join thy forces to his.”
"I have long intended joining him and my command will
follow me. The only perplexity, Iddin, is to decide how to
join him.”
"A way must be found, Belibus. We need the help of thy-
self and thy men. We must strike before the Persians do.”
“Iddin,' said the soldier sadly, “I am despondent today. I
feel defeat awaits our army. I fear we must prepare our necks
to receive the Persian yoke. Rumor has it the army of Cyrus
cannot be numbered, while the largest force we can muster will
be less than two hundred thousand. Even with that force a
skilful leader could work wonders, but we have no leader. Ah,
Iddin, I feel our beloved city and empire are doomed. If we
are defeated by the Persians what can Sheshbazzar do?”
“Do ?” cried Iddin, “Sheshbazzar can do anything, every-
thing. If our army is defeated at Sippara he can rally the rem-


A WORD OF WARNING
255
nant, take Babylon and defy the Persian to oust him. Yonder
walls can be neither scaled nor breached.”
“I would I had the hope thou hast, Iddin, but depend upon
one thing; the Winged Lions will not fight against the man
who once commanded them. Thou knowest ours is no ordin-
ary military organization. We are a secret brotherhood bound
together by sacred vows. Those vows compel us to stand by
one another through everything. Sheshbazzar is still a member
of our brotherhood and is our secret leader, though not our
public commander. Therefore when he needs us we will not
be found wanting.”
Belibus spoke in a serious convincing manner that inspired
confidence in his hearers. Having thus spoken the soldier
turned away from them to direct his men in their preparations
for camping. Soon after Heber left Iddin to continue his
work, while he spent a short time in his father's company.
Upon reaching his home he tied his horse to a small tree
beside the road. He passed around the house and through the
garden to Orma's bower, but it was deserted. Retracing his
steps to the front of the dwelling he entered by the wide door-
way. He searched through all the rooms of the lower floor
but found no one. Therefore he climbed the stairs to the
second story and continued his search through the chambers.
He paused at the door of Orma's sleeping apartment and
knocked several times, but received no response. At length
the muffled tones of a man's voice reached him. He recognized
them as his father's and turned to listen that he might dis-
cover from whence they came. He at once discovered them
to come from a room at the further end of the hall from
Orma's chamber. He walked rapidly up the hall toward the
front of the house. Upon reaching the door he stopped a
moment to listen again. Nehum was praying. Heber pushed
the door open and slipped quietly into the room.
Before an open window, looking toward Jerusalem, the old
man knelt with his arms uplifted to Heaven. His whole frame
trembled with the deepest emotion as he poured forth an urg-


256
RHESA
ent supplication to Deity. Heber listened unwillingly but not
liking to interrupt his father.
“Oh my Father," the old man cried, "Why has this afflic-
tion been sent upon me? Why hast thou taken both my chil-
dren from me? My son, my first born to die in prison and
my daughter, the last comfort of an old man's heart is now
torn from me. Oh Lord God, I beseech thee restore my
precious jewel unto me. Stay thou the lust of the heathen that
she return unto me unspotted.”
Heber could wait no longer. He must learn the meaning
of his father's impassioned words. His sister! His idolized
sister! What had come upon her to call forth such heart-
rending sobs as mingled with the old man's petitions ?
"Father!” he cried. “Tell me the meaning of thy words!
Tell me what calamity has fallen upon my sister!"
Nehum ceased speaking, but remained in the same position.
He knelt motionless as one spellbound. Was he dreaming or
did he really hear the voice of his first born?
“Father, arise and tell me the cause of thy sorrow. If
aught has befallen my sister we will raise our voices together
that she may be saved and restored unto us,” said Heber.
As he spoke these words he had crossed the room. He now
grasped his father's trembling hand that he might assist. The
old man arose slowly and painfully from his knees and when
erect he stood an instant gazing into his son's face. He was at
first bewildered, but when the realization that this apparition
was his own Heber alive and well came over him, he opened
his arms and clasped the young man to his bosom in a long,
fond embrace.
"My son, my son,” he cried. "Hast thou at last returned
to thy father's arms?”
"Yea, father, it is thy wayward boy again returned to claim
thy love and forgiveness. Tell me though I beg thee, father,
what has befallen my sister."
Heber led his father to a convenient couch and when they
ACC.


A WORD OF WARNING
257
were seated the old man related all he knew concerning Orma's
disappearance.
"I fear," he said in closing, "she has been carried away to
a life worse than death. Of late she has been often to the
palace to confer with the queen, and several times she has been
stopped in the hall by the young king. She has spoken to me
of her fear of him. Boy though he is, he is already notorious
for his lewdness, and I fear me, Heber, he has lured our
precious flower away for lustful reasons. This morning I sent
a message to the queen that I might learn if she it was who sent
for thy sister. She returned answer that she knew nothing of
the matter, but added that she would take steps to learn of
Orma's whereabouts.”
Heber leaped to his feet crazed by grief and rage.
"May the Lord have mercy upon the man who has ab-
ducted her; I shall not. I swear to kill him if we meet," he
cried.
“My son, vengeance is the Lord's," said the old man sol-
emnly.
Heber strode up and down the apartment, his hands tightly
clenched and his face twitching convulsively. For months he
had been looking forward to this visit, to meeting with his
father and sister. Now to have all his pleasant anticipations
crushed in this manner was a dissappointment greater seem-
ingly than he could bear. His father meanwhile sat silent
upon the divan watching his son's emotion and waiting for the
first outburst to pass away. At length he spoke.
“Heber, my boy,” he said, “come and sit beside me. Tell
me concerning thyself. For a year we have mourned thee as
one dead. Where hast thou been and how hast thou escaped
from the hands of the king?”.
Thus entreated Heber calmed himself and reseated himself
at his father's side. He related all that had befallen him since
the eventful night when he had attempted to lead his people
to liberty. Nor did he fail to tell all, even to his own marriage.
The, old man listened attentively until his son had finished.


258
RHESA
"Where is Tirmar thy wife?” he asked simply.
"She is in the camp of the Persians, ministering unto Queen
Cassandane," was the reply.
"Thou wilt have some sad news to convey unto her. Her
father, Josedek, has been called away from earth.”
“Then Joshua is high priest?”
“Ay, my son, and a noble man he is. But what brings thee
here at this time? Art thou here in thy patron's service ?"
asked Nehum.
"Nay, father, I am here seeking men to join Prince Shesh-
bazzar in his attempt to win the throne.”
“Sheshbazzar?” exclaimed Nehum. "We supposed him
again in the hands of his enemies."
“Captured he was, father, but the soldiers of King Cyrus
rescued him."
"Ah, Heber, if thy sister could only learn of this,” and the
old man shook his head sadly.
"Are they to marry, father ?” asked Heber. "I have some-
times thought there was something between them.”
"They love, Heber, but I have not given my permission to
a betrothal. I cannot allow thy sister to become his wife while
he remains an idolater."
"Thou art right, father," said Heber, speaking as an ad-
viser would.
“I am praying that the noble prince may learn to love our
God. Were he a worshiper of Jehovah gladly would I bestow
thy sister upon him."
"I fear he never will, father. These Babylonians are a proud,
conceited race. Were he sure our God was the true God his
pride would prevent his acknowledging it."
They sat until nearly dusk conversing together. At last
Heber reluctantly arose to depart. His father motioned him
to kneel and the old man poured out a brief prayer of thanks
for Heber's return and of supplication for Orma's safety. After
a final embrace Heber departed.
That evening the three men sat in the library of Neboakhu's


A WORD OF WARNING
259
residence conversing upon the subject uppermost in their
thoughts. Their discussion was interrupted by the entrance of
a servant who informed them a soldier waited without desir-
ing to speak with them at once.
“Show him in," ordered Neboakhu.
The servant returned a moment later followed by the sol-
dier. All three arose to greet the newcomer who was Belibus.
"I am come to tell thee of the king's plans," he said. “A
messenger has been sent forward with orders for three thou-
sand footmen to halt at the prince's camp, and the two thou-
sand horse that went into camp today are to start before day-
break. Their orders are to bring Sheshbazzar back dead or
alive, but the king warned the commander to take him alive if
possible. The Winged Lions are not to go after all. We are
to wait and acompany the king when he starts for the front.
Thou, Iddin, must leave the city. Thy presence in the city and
thy connection with the prince are both known. Do not wait
for daylight but go immediately. Come, I will accompany thee
and see thee safely through the gates. Ride all night and place
Sheshbazzar on his guard.”
Iddin hastened to the apartment he had occupied during his
stay beneath Neboakhu's roof and made such preparations for
his hurried departure as were necessary. Immediately after he
reappeared in the library, he and Belibus said farewell to the
others and departed.
At the door stood the ever-faithful Kudur holding three
horses, the forethought of Belibus having provided Iddin with
a fresh mount. They vaulted into their saddles without speak-
ing. Belibus took the lead that he might set the pace, and the
others followed in single file. They rode slowly for fear speed
might cause suspicion, but the streets through which they took
their way were dark and well nigh deserted. Fortunate it was
for Iddin that the location of Neboakhu's house enabled him
to reach the wall without traversing the principal streets of
the city. At the slow trot Belibus deemed necessary it took
them twenty minutes to reach the gate in the inner wall. They


260
RHESA
Thesenger. For of the kinmanded the aton
experienced no difficulty in passing this point but Belibus had
misgivings as to their being as successful at the outer wall.
Upon reaching the great outer gate he put on a bold face
and demanded that the gates be opened at once.
"By what authority ?" demanded the officer in charge.
“By authority of the king. Open the gates for the king's
messenger. For the love of thy nation open and delay not.
The very life of our nation depends upon this message,” replied
Belibus. His last saying was true though in a different way
than he wished the officer to understand it.
“I must have a pass, sir. Thou knowest how strict are the
present orders about opening the gates after dark," said the
officer.
Belibus made no reply but beckoned the officer to approach.
The man obeyed, apparently with reluctance. Belibus leaned
over and whispered a single word in his ear. The effect was
magical. The officer turned instantly and walked rapidly
toward the small guard house just under the great wall. He
called out two soldiers who quickly undid the fastenings of the
great bronze gates and swung one of them open sufficiently for
a horseman to pass through. Iddin bade his friend a hasty
farewell and a moment later dashed through the opening.
CHAPTER XXXIII
ORMA AND BELSHAZZAR
When Orma beheld Belshazzar actually within her cham-
ber, the very lifeblood of her heart seemed to cease its tumul-
tuous career. She leaped from the couch and rested her hand
upon its head for support. Her every limb trembled; she was
cold from head to foot. At that moment she could have prayed
for the earth to open and engulf her rather than become the
slave of this man. Meanwhile the young king stood still near
the door and looked her over calmly.


ORMA AND BELSHAZZAR
261
For several moments, moments that seemed as many eter-
nities to the unfortunate girl, they stood thus facing each other,
the one frozen by fear, the other inflamed with passion. Up to
this moment Orma had scarcely realized the peril that assailed
her, so sudden had it all been; but now, as she saw the light
in the king's eyes she was conscious of his intentions and the
thought of them sapped her remaining strength. She tottered
and would have fallen but for the support of the couch.
Belshazzar, unable to restrain himself longer, took a few
steps forward. Involuntarily Orma took as many backward.
This movement placed her in the corner of the room from
whence there could be no retreat. She stood braced against
the wall, looking piteously at her foe much as a poor hunted
doe might make her stand against some ancient trunk and face
the pitiless hounds which had chased her all the day.
Belshazzar smiled a coarse, sensual smile, as he realized how
completely within his power was this beautiful creature. For
months as he had seen her upon her occasional visits at the
palace he had longed for this moment, and now it had come.
Still he seemed in no hurry, but lingered to feast his eyes upon
her. Her respite was not for long, as in another moment he
approached her, one hand outheld as a sign of friendship. She
crouched still farther into her corner, if that were possible.
Belshazzar could perceive her fright, but it had no effect upon
'him. Still he approached her, a calm smile upon his face.
“Ah, my pretty, is this the way to receive thy husband ?” he
said smiling.
"Husband,” she hissed between her closed teeth, "it were in-
sult to the word coming from thy lips."
"What, still defiant ?” he asked laughing.
She made no reply.
He was now within an arm's reach of her. To Orma it
seemed as if her heart stopped beating and her breath ceased.
He reached out his hand and touched her upon her shoulder.
Instantly she threw his arm away with a violent blow. He


262
RHESA
stepped back astonished that so terrified a creature could defend
herself.
“That was not pretty," he said still preserving his calm ex-
terior, though inward fires consumed him.
He stood still a moment, the doe holding the hounds at bay.
He was for the time being irresolute. The girl's spirit was
unlooked for, and he was but a boy. Still his passion urged
him on and would not give up the strife so soon. Again he
approached the corner in which she crouched, but he made no
attempt to touch her.
“My dear," he said in his most persuasive tone, “it is wrong
for thee to thus spurn me from thee. Remember I am King of
Babylon and the position I offer thee is an honorable one."
“Honorable?” she said with a bitter laugh.
"As I told thee before, I offer thee honorable marriage if
thou consentest of thine own will. Think, girl, thou art in
my power. No power on earth can save thee. Have thee I
will so thou wouldst best accept my offer and become my wife."
"I gave thee my answer. Thinkest thou thy treatment since
has been such as to change my mind ?”
“I regret the violence, but I gave thee warning. I was in
earnest. Thou art deserving of the worst but I love thee
enough to make me plead with thee. Listen, girl, I lied to thee
in the garden. Sheshbazzar has been captured and tonight he
goes into the drowning chamber to die like a rat. Because of
my love for thee I will set him at liberty if thou wilt consent
to become my wife.”
Intuitively she felt he was insincere. His surprise at her
announcing the prince's capture had been too perfect for act-
ing. She was confident that he lied in the last speech and not
in the first.
"I have said all I shall ever say. I will not marry thee.”
She spoke defiantly. Since she had so easily repulsed him she
had gained confidence.
“Come, I will give thee one more chance. Think, girl, what
it means to be queen of Babylon. Thou shalt be honored above


ORMA AND BELSHAZZAR
253
After he had cave way.comp and her whole
all. Everything thy heart desires thou shalt have. Thy life
will be a happy one surrounded by wealth and comfort.”
“Nay, King, such things tempt me not. I have given thee
my answer. I can say no more." .
An expression of intense passion came over the face of the
boy king and he made another movement toward her. In-
stantly Orma threw open her long robe, exposing her bosom,
Snatching the dagger she held it aloft ready to strike.
"One step nearer,” she cried, “and I will plunge this dag-
ger into my heart. Thou shalt not dishonor my living body.”
Belshazzar retreated in dismay and to Orma's great sur-
prise he left the room. On the threshold he stopped and turned
to say:
“Thou hast the advantage this time, but think not I am thus
easily baffled. When I come again I shall have assistance.
Another time thou canst not escape me.”
After he had gone Orma threw herself upon the couch, face
downward and gave way completely to her sorrows. A flood
of tears wet the silken pillow and her whole body quivered.
Deep convulsive sobs racked her, showing the intensity of her
grief. As she lay there she prayed as she had never prayed
before; prayed that the threatened disgrace might pass over her.
At length thoughts of the man who loved her came into her
mind and she longed for some method of notifying him of her
plight. She knew full well if he could learn of her wherea-
bouts no power on earth could prevent his coming to her aid.
Then the thought of his being a prisoner also came into her
mind and the last vestige of hope left her. She wondered
which of Belshazzar's statements concerning the prince to be-
lieve. She was inclined to believe the boy ignorant of the cap-
ture.
Finally she fell asleep and dreamed of home and loved ones.
When she awoke it was night and she was in utter darkness.
She sat up fearful. She was afraid to go to sleep again lest
Belshazzar should return while she was unconscious. She lis-
tened intently but nothing could be heard, save the gentle wash
Then thed the lascar's state believe the


264
RHESA
of the water beneath and an occasional cry from some night bird
perched among the branches in the garden. She lay down
again resolving to keep awake, but in a few moments she was
asleep. The nervous strain she had undergone was more than
nature could withstand and sleep came unbidden.
When she awoke it was broad daylight. The warm morn-
ing sun was shining in at her window, throwing one broad
beam across her face. She arose and made her toilet as well as
the means at hand permitted. Then she drew a stool to the
window and seated herself. With her elbows upon the sill and
her chin supported upon her hands, she sat looking out upon
the scene of beauty about and below her. She remained in
this position until the opening of the door aroused her. She
turned quickly fearing Belshazzar had returned according to
his promise, but she was at once reassured. It was only the
woman who had given her the dagger, coming with her break-
fast. The woman spread the viands out upon a low table and
invited the prisoner to partake of them.
While she was eating Orma told the woman (whom she
now trusted fully) of all that had taken place the preceding
afternoon. The woman listened attentively. When Orma
had finished speaking she said:
"Thou hast escaped him for the time being, but I fear, my
girl, 'twill not be for long. I know nothing of this boy but
if he be like unto his father nothing but death can save thee.”
To Orma the words sounded harsh but they were actuated
by sentiments of the deepest pity.
“Alas !" cried the girl, "what am I to do?"
“There is but one way of escape. That way I have pro-
vided for thee.”
"Oh, but I do not want to die.”
“My dear girl," said the woman tenderly, placing one arm
about Orma. "Believe what I say. For twenty years, since I
was a girl of sixteen, have I been a concubine of the kings of
Babylon and I say unto thee, far better is everlasting death
than one hour of the terrible misery of this life.”


ORMA AND BELSHAZZAR
265
Orma looked up sadly into her face. She was forgetful of
her own troubles in thinking of the terrible life this poor woman
had led.
"Oh, I am so sorry for thee,” she said tenderly.
The woman said nothing but she looked the thanks she felt
for the girl's sympathy. Neither spoke for some moments.
Orma was the first to break the silence.
“If only my lover were at liberty and I could get word to
him. All the king's soldiers could not keep him away,” she
said.
“Thy lover, girl? Is he a prisoner?”
“I fear so. He was taken prisoner by the soldiers but Bel-
shazzar denies all knowledge of his capture.”
“What is his name?” asked the woman.
“Sheshbazzar,” replied Orma.
“Sheshbazzar!” she cried. “Has he then announced him-
self? Is he striving to gain his rights ?”
"He has not announced himself publicly as yet but he was
preparing to step forward when he was captured. But dost
thou know of him?"
"Know of him?” she said. "Did I not give my babe that
he might live?”
“Thou?" exclaimed Orma. "Art thou the girl that changed
the children?"
"I was the girl," answered the woman bitterly.
“Oh, tell me of it,” cried Orma.
Thus invited the woman began a narrative of the utmost
interest to her auditor.
“My name is Maraida,” she began. “I am like thyself a
daughter of Judah. I know nothing of my parents save that
they were Jews. For all I know I was born in the palace. My
earliest remembrance is of living there. When I was old
enough I was given some task to perform and when I was
fourteen I was appointed to serve the queen. Thus it hap-
pened I was in the queen's service at the time of her husband's
murder.


THE BATTLE AT THE CAMP
267
CHAPTER XXXIV
THE BATTLE AT THE CAMP
Early in the morning of the fourth day following the de-
parture of his lieutenants for Babylon, Sheshbazzar stood at
the entrance of his camp looking off in the direction of the
great city. Beneath, upon the borders of the great road, a
large body of infantry was encamped. The presence of the
king's troops troubled him, for even though they were unaware
of the proximity of his camp, their present location at the exact
spot where his recruits must leave the road, would prevent any
additions reaching his forces. Thus far about four hundred
men had joined him, raising his total to nearly a thousand, but
he realized that at this rate of progress it would be weeks if
not months before he could begin active operations. Then it
would be too late. Already he had changed his plans to accord
with this condition. He had now decided to wait until the
troops of the king had all departed for the front. Then he
would dash into the defenceless city and become its master.
If Nabonidos was successful he would close the gates against
him; if on the other hand Cyrus broke through the lines of the
king, he would welcome the defeated army in Babylon and
oppose the Persians, trusting to the height and strength of the
massive walls to bring him success.
With this plan in mind he saw with interest and pleasure
the long lines of marching men that were continually passing
at his feet. Every body that passed his camp meant that many
less troops remaining in the city. So completely was his camp
sheltered by its surroundings that it was entirely hidden from
the passing soldiers. But for Shemakin and his anticipated
treachery, he would have felt comparatively secure. The con-
tinued presence of the encamped troops worried him. If they
had merely pitched their camp for the night they would have


268
RHESA
been in motion long since. He was beginning to connect them
with Shemakin.
The past two days had not been idle ones in Sheshbazzar's
camp. From early morning until sundown he had drilled his
men, with results both gratifying and surprising. The men at
once recognized their leader as a master in his profession and
accorded him the respect and obedience that were his due:
Under his skilful guidance they marched and rode like vet-
erans, while the incessant archery practice made them experts.
Had Nabonidos persisted in his intention of making this man
the commander of his army and given him absolute control in
all matters of drill, discipline and disposition the history of
Asia might prove vastly different reading. But Nabonidos was
the tool of Destiny. The hour had come for the final over-
throw of the Semitic race and no man could have stemmed the
Aryan tide.
Well indeed was this irksome but necessary drilling, for could
Sheshbazzar have seen far enough into the distance, he would
have beheld the flower of the king's cavalry hastening toward
his camp. Even now as he stood leaning against a stately
trunk, gazing thoughtfully into the distance, he saw a horse-
man approaching at a breakneck pace. Suddenly he disap-
peared. The prince remained watching for the reappearance
of the rider. In a few moments he came galloping up the gen-
tle slope toward the camp entrance. He had made a long
detour through the fields, thus approaching the camp in such a
way as to be unseen of the troops below. The prince recog-
nized him at once. It was Iddin. Seeing his superior standing
at the entrance, he dismounted and approached on foot.
"What news, Iddin?” inquired the prince.
"The worst possible. A force is under way to strengthen
that yonder and they will attack our camp soon, possibly be-
fore night. Their orders are to bring thee back dead or alive."
"It will be dead if at all,” said the prince sorrowfully.
“There is worse news still for thee, I fear," continued Iddin.


THE BATTLE AT THE CAMP
269
“Thy sweetheart has been abducted, by Belshazzar 'tis
thought.”
An expression of the deepest anguish slowly spread itself
over the prince's dark, passionate countenance. He paled from
dismay and anger. He received the first portion of Iddin's tid-
ings with calm sorrow. Something of that nature had been
expected, but to think of Orma as being in the power of the
dissolute Belshazzar was maddening. His first impulse was
to ride directly to Babylon and rescue her. He would face all
his enemies combined rather than have harm befall one silken
hair of her precious head. The expected attack forbade such
knight-errantry. He must bear his pain and sorrow until the
enemy was beaten.
He turned silently and led the way into camp. He passed
directly to his own tent, followed closely by Iddin. When they
were alone in the tent he demanded all the details of Orma's
misfortune.
"I can give thee very little information, sir. All I know is
this: Heber visited his home yesterday and found only his
broken-hearted father. From him he learned of his sister's
disappearance. She was summoned to the Hanging Gardens
to meet the queen and has not since returned. Thou knowest,
sir, what is located at the gardens. Inquiries at the palace re-
vealed the message to be false. Nitocris denies sending it, and
it is thought the message came from Belshazzar as she has men-
tioned her fear of him several times. Those are the facts, as
far as known. The queen has promised to assist in discover-
ing and rescuing her.”
"Oh that I were in Babylon !" cried the prince in agonized
tones. He was pacing excitedly up and down the tent.
"What can I do, Iddin? Must I stay here and fight for
myself while she is dishonored ?”
"It is a hard question, sir," replied the young man, genuinely
sorrowful because of his friend's trouble, “but thou canst not
go at this time. Thou wouldst ride alone straight in the arms
of the men sent to take thee."


272
RHESA
at short range. At last, when the advancing line had broken
into squads to work their way through the trees, Sheshbazzar
gave the order to shoot.
The bowstrings clanged and two hundred carefully aimed
arrows flew into the ranks of the king's troops, a deadly shower.
Men fell in the foremost ranks. Their companions, many of
them wounded, hesitated a moment. Their return fire was
scattering and of little effect. While they faltered a second
volley was sent into them. The first line broke and fell back
upon the second, which in turn broke and before the officers
could restrain them, the entire body was in full retreat, fol-
lowed by showers of arrows from the elated archers of Shesh-
bazzar. For the moment the victory was with the forces of
the prince.
The battle was not yet over. By the time the retreating
forces reached the level plain beyond the swamp the officers suc-
ceeded in controlling them and the men silently, shamefacedly
turned about to take their places in the ranks. An hour later
the reformed columns began their second advance upon the
camp. As before the defenders withheld their arrows until
the advancing enemy was close at hand. Then a shower of
well aimed missiles spread death and dismay among the at-
tackers. The target practice was showing its value. Again
the enemy hesitated but spurred on by the officers, themselves
towers of might, they plunged forward into the showers of
death-dealing arrows. On through the woods they came, a
broken zigzagging line. They stumbled over roots and stones
only to rise and rush forward again. Almost to the barricade
they came, but at a soft word of command from the prince,
the defending archers arose from their knees and sent a single
well directed volley into the very faces of their opponents, re-
ceiving in return a scattering fire that worked little harm.
Every arrow in that Aight had been aimed at an individual
target and the result was more than the nerves of the king's
soldiers could withstand. A second time they faltered and to
falter so near their opponents meant death. Another volley


THE BATTLE AT THE CAMP
273
wethe second gent he would havherefore,
from the prince's archers sent them backward and in another
moment they broke and fled precipitately. Sheshbazzar's men
were eager to give chase but their leader restrained them. De-
fensive warfare he felt to be his only salvation, protected as
were his men by the barricades.
The second rout of the attacking force was so complete that
the prince judged he would have a considerable breathing spell
before again being attacked. Therefore, after ordering out de-
tails of his men to attend the enemy's wounded, he left his own
post to visit the other sides of the camp and see how matters
fared with his assistants. He had hardly left the barricade when
he met messengers from Iddin and Belmurda asking for assist-
ance, if the men could be spared.
The prince placed himself at the head of a company of spear-
men and hastened across the camp toward the barricade de-
fended by Iddin. On the way he passed the reserves under
Nebogurza drawn up in line ready to reinforce whoever needed
them. These he ordered to the support of Belmurda. He
found Iddin hard pressed. The forest directly in front of this
barricade was so dense that the archers of Iddin had been unable
to inflict any damage upon the king's troops until they were
directly before them. Before they could stay the advance of
the regulars they had leaped upon the parapet of the barri-
cade. A desperate hand-to-hand conflict ensued, in the midst of
which Iddin, seeing his men gradually giving ground to the in-
vaders, sent for help.
The added strength of an hundred fresh men and the example
of Sheshbazzar's personal valor turned the tide of defeat at the
supreme moment of the encounter. The prince sprang into the
midst of the conflict and wielded his great sword with super-
human strength. Right and left and back and forth it flashed,
bearing all before it. When the king's troops gave way before
the terrible onslaught, Sheshbazzar and his men leaped over
the fortifications and pressed the attackers slowly backward
until they were without the belt of woods. The battle among
the trees was terrific while it lasted. It was every man for him-
bat inflict any damage upefore they could stay
of the barri-


274
RHESA
self and the slaughter was frightful. At length the scattered
remains of the well trained band of soldiery composing the at-
tacking column withdrew in fairly good order, leaving their
dead and wounded comrades behind them. The defenders had
also lost heavily and the prince sighed as the battle-scarred rem-
nant of his force gathered about him.
In the meantime disaster had fallen upon Belmurda and Ne-
bogurza. The enemy was completely victorious upon that side
of the camp and captured many prisoners beside a large propor-
tion of the prince's stores and horses. Upon hearing of this dis-
aster Sheshbazzar and Iddin hurried across the camp with their
little band to attack the successful column, but it was too late.
While his men at the western side of the enclosure were engaged
in caring for the wounded the cavalry made a sudden dash,
overrode the force at the gateway and entered the camp. They
were in absolute control of the entire southern and western sides
of the enclosure.
The survivors of Sheshbazzar's force gathered near the cen-
ter of the camp, behind a row of tents, a pitiable remnant of
the band that had twice sent the flower of Babylon's army rush-
ing pell-mell down the slope. A hasty consultation was held.
The prince realized himself completely defeated and was striv-
ing to think of some means to save the brave fellows who had
that day fought for him so gallantly.
“I have a plan, sir, but there is not time for me to outline
it,” said Iddin. "Wilt thou give me command over all, includ-
ing thyself, for the next few moments?”.
"If in thy judgment thy plan will succeed I stand ready to
obey thy orders," said the prince.
Notwithstanding the gravity of the moment Iddin ordered
his chief around in a playful manner. Acting under these orders
Sheshbazzar removed the costly clothing Cyrus had given him
and in its place donned that of a private soldier, Iddin mean-
while assuming the vestments his leader threw off. In a mo-
ment the rab mag's son stood attired as a prince.
"Prince," he said, turning to Sheshbazzar, "thine is the life


THE BATTLE AT THE CAMP
275
which must be saved. There is yet time for thee to seek shelter
in the woods. I and all the men that remain to us will make a
dash for liberty."
Leading his chief to one side the young man whispered in his
ear: “Farewell, my prince. May the gods keep thee out of
the hands of thine enemies. Twice hast thou doubted me;
doubt me not this time."
"Nay, Iddin, thou hast proven thy faithfulness today. De-
feated though I am now, there may yet come a time when
success will crown my efforts. Then I shall not forget thy
devotion."
A soldier came leading Saru. Iddin leaped upon the back
of his commander's favorite.
"Farewell, prince," he cried.
He rode to the head of the little band who were mounted
for the dash. He gave the word to start. Sheshbazzar watched
them as they departed upon their mad venture. Then with a
sad heart he turned and walked slowly away. He vaulted the
barricade and hurried on to the woods. Once hidden amid the
undergrowth he paused and looked about him. Close at hand
was a tall poplar whose top lifted itself high above the sur-
rounding trees. Slowly and laboriously he worked his way
up the trunk and then branch by branch until he reached a posi-
tion from which he could command a view of the surrounding
country.
He saw his faithful friend emerge from the gateway followed
closely by the others. They were rushing at a mad gallop.
Close behind them rode a body of cavalry in hot pursuit. Down
through the swamp they rushed, Iddin well in advance, placed
there by Saru's long strides. As they turned toward the south
the observer saw a body of cavalry, which up to this time had
been standing in reserve, start off in a diagonal direction to
head off the little band. Iddin swerved suddenly to the left
to escape this new force, and as he did so dashed almost into
the arms of a company of archers and spearmen who seemed to
rise from the ground by magic. Sheshbazzar felt rather than


276
RHESA
saw the volley of arrows that was hurled at his friends, but he
could see Iddin waver in his saddle a moment and then fall,
Saru keeping on his mad career.
"Ah, Iddin," murmured the prince, his voice choked with
emotion, “thou hast indeed proven thy faithfulness.”
Could he have been present at the fatal spot further proof
of the young man's devotion would have been shown him. He
would have heard the officer who caught the falling hero, cry
in his ear: “Where is Sheshbazzar?" and he would have heard
the pale lips of the dying man murmur, "I—I am Sheshbazzar."
CHAPTER XXXV
A DEFIANCE AND A PROPHECY
Early the following morning an officer presented himself at
the royal palace in Babylon and demanded instant audience
with the king. The servants had received orders concerning
him and consequently admitted him to the royal presence imme-
diately. Both monarchs greeted him most cordially.
"Well Nergalmakin, what news bringest thou ?" asked Na-
bonidos.
“News of the best, O King," replied the soldier.
"Make thy report," commanded the monarch.
“We attacked the camp of the rebels at noon yesterday and
after a terrible battle lasting more than three hours we gained
their camp and all it contained.”
"Including Sheshbazzar ?" cried Vulmaran who was present
as usual.
“I am coming to that presently,” replied the officer with
some dignity.
"When we thought we were in complete control of the camp
and began our search for the chief rebel we were surprised to
see him dash from behind a group of huts followed by fifty
or more of his men. So completely had this move surprised us


A DEFIANCE AND A PROPHECY
279
maran. He is more responsible. He had the power to place
thy rightful sovereign upon the throne and give thee new life.
Too late! Too late! Thou must become the unwilling mis-
tress of the barbarian. Thy gilded halls shall be thronged with
leathern-breeched men, thy- "
“Who is it thus prophesies?" inquired a low but heavy voice.
Both Vulmaran and the king turned toward the speaker.
They beheld a man not unknown to both. The newcomer was
Daniel, the Hebrew prophet.
“Thy words are sound, Vulmaran," he continued. “Who
can say this proud city deservest not the doom God hath in store
for her?
"I am come to see thee, O King," he said, turning to the
monarch, "upon a matter of the greatest importance. A Jewish
maiden, the daughter of a princely line has been lured from her
home by means of a false message from thy queen and is kept
a prisoner. It is believed thine own son is the man guilty of
the crime. I am come to beg thee to restore the maiden to her
kindred and set thy son aright that he commit not his soul to
perdition.”
“Daniel,” said the king sternly, "were it not for the great
respect all men have for thee I would order thee into our dun-
geons for bringing such an accusation against our son and thy
king. 'Twere beneath me to interfere in such matters. All I
would reproach him for would be his choice. With all the
fair of Babylon to choose from, why should he seek a Jewess?
Supposing however his tastes fall in that direction, what have
I to do with so trivial a matter as a Jewess maiden's virtue?
Better for her to lose it to a king than to a slave of her own
race.”
The stern features of the great prophet grew dark as he lis-
tened to these careless words. In tones calm and dispassionate
yet full of the deepest displeasure, he made answer.
“Thine own tongue does thee a wrong, King Nabonidos.
The virtue of a Jewish maiden is dearer to her than life itself,
and she will sacrifice her life rather than lose it. Thou canst


A DEFIANCE AND A PROPHECY
281
of his throne. His whole attitude showed the deep impression
the prophet's words were making. As Daniel finished speak-
ing the king answered him.
“Thou art indeed a wonderful man, O Daniel, for know that
the vision thou sawest was seen by me also and much has it
troubled me since. I give thee my word should such a strange
messenger as we have seen in our dreams come unto me I will
receive him as my guest.
“As to this girl," he continued, “I pledge myself she shall be
returned to her friends."
Daniel bowed a silent acknowledgment of the monarch's
promise and turned to depart. As he turned his eye fell upon
the corpse of Iddin which lay where the soldiers had placed it.
The grief stricken father knelt beside the litter, his lips pressed
against his son's cold hand.
“Ah, Vulmaran," said the prophet, placing one hand upon
the kneeling man's shoulder, “mourn not for this, thy son. His
eyes shall not witness the terrible scenes that are coming. Thou
shalt see them but only for a moment."
Without another word Daniel left the room. When he had
gone, Vulmaran arose and again faced the king to continue his
tirade. The king turned to the soldier who had been a silent
witness of the interesting scene just closed. “Nergalmakin, it
is evident a mistake has been made. This body is not that of
Sheshbazzar," he said.
“So it appears but King Nabonidos, I am convinced that
the rebellious prince is dead. We made strict search through-
out the camp and surroundings, and I am sure not a man es-
caped us. If Prince Sheshbazzar was in the camp he is dead."
"May the gods so grant. I am inclined to think he was
killed early in the engagement and this man Iddin impersonated
him in order to continue the rebellion,” said the king.
Again Vulmaran turned to berate the king but the monarch
forestalled him.
"Spare me, Vulmaran. Take the body of thy son and give it


282
RHESA
decent burial. I regret this mistake but thou must remember
he lost his life while fighting against his country,” said Naboni-
dos, not unkindly.
"Not against his country, but against the usurper of his
country's throne,” cried the half crazed rab mag.
“Say no more," commanded the king, “thou wouldst have
slain me as thou slewest Laborosoarchod couldst thou have won
my throne thereby. Go I command thee while I am in a lenient
mood. Stay not until the spell caused by yonder mysterious
man's wonderful words shall have left me, for then I may order
thee into custody for thy words of treason. Go, Sheshbaz-
zar is dead and I therefore give thee thy life, but go at once."
The rab mag motioned to the soldiers to take up the litter.
As they approached he tenderly covered his son's face with the
robe. At the threshold he turned and called loudly: “May the
curses of the gods rest upon thee and thy crazy son, King
Nabonidos.”
When at last the king found himself alone he arose and
paced up and down the apartment, absorbed in deep thought.
The vision seen by both Daniel and himself had made a deep
impression upon him and added to this was the supposed death
of Sheshbazzar which Nabonidos believed an assured fact, not-
withstanding that it was not the prince's body which had been
so carefully brought to Babylon.
"Ah, Prince Sheshbazzar," he cried, “has this mad business
indeed cost thy country its greatest soldier and thy king the
only honest man upon whom he could lean? Tyrant and usur-
per thou hast called me, but thou little knowest how true a
friend I have been to thee all through."


THE MESSENGER
283
CHAPTER XXXVI
THE MESSENGER
At five o'clock in the morning of the tenth day of June, B.C.,
538, a horseman, mounted upon a superb black horse, was gal-
loping toward Babylon with all the speed his noble beast could
put forth. The animal's flanks and sides were flecked with
foam, his nostrils were dilated and his eyes had a wild look,
but he sped onward in long regular strides. His rider was
dressed as a soldier but was entirely without arms. He wore
no helmet, his long black hair streaming in the wind, a wavy
cloud. He sat immovable, one hand upon the horse's mane and
he leaned far over on the animal's neck to minimize the resist-
ance to the wind.
Just before reaching the great outer gate of the city the flying
horseman sat upright and waved his right arm aloft as a signal
to the soldier on guard to open the gate for him. His every
appearance so denoted an errand of the utmost importance that
none thought of stopping him for the required pass. The great
brazen gates swung open just as the messenger galloped over
the drawbridge. He passed the half awake sentries with a
whirl. Straight on through the city he dashed, the horse in
agony but still holding to his task, until the outer wall of the
king's palace was reached. Here he drew rein and dismounted.
Hardly had his feet touched the pavement when his noble steed
uttered a low groan, fell to the ground and in a moment was
dead. The rider gave his faithful friend a long loving look
and then hurried on to the gate.
“A message for the king," was all the pass he used, but it
was sufficient. The three gates were opened for him in succes-
sion and he rushed on to the palace entrance.
“Call the king. I have a message,” he panted.
Servants ran to the royal apartments and in a few moments


THE MESSENGER
285
hour of his nation's peril, and he gave Nabonidos credit for the
same feelings. Nor was his trust misplaced. Nabonidos, ever
a slave to his passing whims, one moment cruel and revengeful,
the next indulgent, had decided upon his present course of
action the moment he recognized the messenger. The words
of Daniel, coupled with his natural liking for the brave young
soldier, had influenced him in making this decision. Thus with
never a fear as to his future safety the lawful king followed the
reigning one into the great reception room. Here he was left
alone while Nabonidos and Belshazzar retired to their private
apartments.
While Sheshbazzar sat alone in the spacious throne room his
mind was active and Orma was its theme. He rapidly consid-
ered several plans of rescue that suggested themselves to him.
First he must ascertain the location of her prison. Remember-
ing the small size of the villa in the Hanging Gardens he
doubted not her being confined there. He almost decided to
question Belshazzar, trusting to the power which a strong mind
exerts over a weak one to cause the boy king to divulge the
information. At this moment a voice beside him aroused him
from his thoughts.
“Sir, I would speak with thee," it said.
The prince turned quickly to see the speaker. The man's
attire betokened him a servant of the royal establishment, one
of that army whose keeping was always so severe a drain upon
the king's revenues. Ninabeth, the overworked financier whose
genius supplied Nabonidos with his income, once remarked that
between the king's household, his harem and his immense stud,
the revenues of the empire were scarcely sufficient to support
the royal establishment alone. Small wonder then that the
army went unpaid aside from what booty they could obtain,
but even this usual source of income for the soldiers had been
cut off during the present reign, as Nabonidos had made no new
conquests.
The servant was unknown to Sheshbazzar and he must have
seen this, to judge from his next remark.


286
RHESA
"Thou knowest me not but I know thee. Thou art Prince
Sheshbazzar."
"Thou art right; but what is it thou hast to say?"
“I can tell thee where is one whose whereabouts thou wishest
to know.”
"What meanest thou?” asked the prince, starting.
“I speak of the Jewish maiden who is held captive by Bel-
shazzar,” answered the servant.
Sheshbazzar sprang to his feet.
“Tell me,” he cried excitedly, "where is her prison? Are
there bars mine arms cannot break to rescue her?”
“Hush, sir,” said the servant, “one must be careful of one's
speech within these walls. She whom thou wouldst seek is in
the villa upon the topmost stage of the Hanging Gardens.
Enter at the front and thou wilt find her in the fourth room
upon the right of the hall.”
“Accept my deepest thanks. I hope some day I will be able
to reward thee as thou deservest," said the prince.
“Reward is not my desire,” replied the servant with an air
of injured pride.
“What then prompted thine action ?".
“The desire which every honest man should have of undoing
a wrong act. Against my will I was forced to assist in her
abduction and I therefore wish to do my part toward rescuing
her. If I am needed sir, I will accompany thee to the Gardens
and assist thee further."
“Thou art a good fellow," said the prince, “but I would not
endanger thee by accepting thy services. Thou hast done thy
part; be mine the task of rescue."
The servant deemed the interview closed and hastily left the
room. He had hardly disappeared through the main doorway
when Nabonidos entered from the side. Belshazzar, having
no desire to meet the prince, had not returned.
“Thou hast had no breakfast this morning, Nabomuran.
Come and share our family repast,” said the king.
Sheshbazzar paid no heed to the covert insult contained in


288
RHESA
Nabonidos, knowing his wife and daughter to be upon the side
of the pretender had bestowed little courtesy upon them. Of
recent events in the prince's life he had kept them in ignorance.
To them this sight of the rebellious prince alive and well and
on terms of amity with the king against whom he had waged
war, bordered on the miraculous. Yet the pleasure was not
without its attendant sorrow, for in the prince's presence, they
read the total failure of his cause.
To the prince himself it all seemed a dream, or rather the
events of the past year seemed a dream and he felt as if noth-
ing had ever come between him and his monarch. Gradually aj
different feeling toward his recently hated enemy was taking
possession of his mind. His long acquaintance with Nabonidos
made him aware of the monarch's instability but in his present
treatment he saw something deeper than a mere passing whim.
Thoroughly conversant with the many moods of the king he
had never yet known him to show so sudden a revulsion of
feeling towards one who had opposed him.
As soon after the meal as courtesy allowed Sheshbazzar ex-
cused himself on the plea of visiting his foster-father, Neboakhu.
He also requested the king to loan him a horse from the royal
stables, explaining as an excuse how his own faithful steed had
given his life for Babylon. Nabonidos himself led the way to
the royal stables and called for a certain horse. The prince as
a born horseman gazed with unfeigned admiration upon the
spirited mare which a groom led forth. His surprise was great
when the king begged him to accept the animal as a token of his
monarch's fullest forgiveness for all that was past and as a
slight payment for the noble animal he had sacrificed in order
to deliver the message.
"Forgiveness !” exclaimed the prince. “Am I to understand
then that my cause is wholly lost and I am received back to my
former allegiance ?”
"Listen to me, Nabomuran, but no, I will call thee by the
name thou art entitled to wear, Sheshbazzar. Think of thy
present position. Thou art entirely within my power, I, the


290
RHESA
kinginte message oudsticant as to his own
part of the day. Late in the afternoon he noticed a loose horse
and to his surprise recognized it as Saru. He gave a low
whistle and the faithful animal came to him.
Early in the evening, while it was yet light, he saw a horse-
man approaching at a terrible pace. When almost before the
tomb the weary horse stumbled, fell and threw his rider far
over his head. Sheshbazzar hastened to the man's assistance
but he refused all aid. He declared his leg to be broken but
said, as the road was much frequented, some passer-by would
surely find him. He then requested the prince to carry to the
king the message of defeat..
With never a question as to his own fate, Sheshbazzar ac-
cepted the trust. At the moment he climbed upon Saru's back
to begin his all night ride he felt that he renounced all claims to
royalty. For Babylon's sake he risked all, fully expecting that
imprisonment and death would be his reward. Yet here was
the king offering him honors second only to his own. He could
not decide upon an answer. He felt too that the sacrifices of
his friends would be wasted. When he did decide it was his
love of country, his desire to aid her in her dark hour, that
caused the decision.
"Come," urged Nabonidos, "what sayest thou?"
"I am entirely unprepared for such an offer from thee, O
King," he replied. “When I brought this message unto thee
I fully believed I was surrendering myself. To have such gen-
erosity shown me has unnerved me. I cannot at this moment
choose between the paths. I will go with thee and do all that
lies in my power to assist in defeating our common enemy. As
to the rest of thy generous offer, I need not decide until peace
is won."
“Very true," replied the king. “I will consider it settled
then, thou art to command at Sippara.”
“As the king wills,” was the reply.
"Then return to the palace as soon as possible. There is
much to be done and much to consider before night if we are
to leave at daybreak.”
Then refing wills, hand at sina "I will


292
RHESA
"Alas," said the prince sadly, “poor Iddin gave his life for
a hopeless cause."
"Ah yes, Prince, but he is spared the sight of his nation's
downfall. Tell me, did he bear himself well in thy service?"
The prince narrated the incidents connected with his over-
whelming defeat. He spoke sadly and as he told of Iddin's
heroic death, his voice was choked with emotion.
“Alas! alas!" muttered the former rab mag. “I urged the
sending of that force, little thinking of the sorrow I was caus-
ing myself thereby. I am repaid. I deserve it all as a punish-
ment for the blind allegiance I gave yonder tyrant. Would
that Iddin's father had been with thee, Prince. Ah, Shesh-
bazzar, thou shouldst have accepted the offer I once made thee.
With the help I could have brought to thee thou wouldst today
be King of Babylon."
The prince shook his head but said nothing.
"What services shalt thou have at Iddin's burial ?” asked
the prince a moment later.
"That is a matter which perplexes me. My son once told
me he had embraced the religion of the Hebrews. He would
therefore wish to be buried according to their rites."
"Iddin told me of his religious views also,” said the prince.
"What services have these Hebrews?”
“That I know not, but I doubt if they differ much from our
own.”
"After all, Prince, what is there to do but put our loved
ones in the tomb and there let them rot?”
"An ignoble thought, Vulmaran," replied the prince. “To
me it seems as though there must be a hereafter, something be-
yond the tomb. The good are not rewarded nor the bad pun-
ished in this world. Justice alone demands another life where
all shall receive their just deserts. At least a home in a cold
tomb is little to look forward to."
"True," answered Vulmaran. "It would be pleasant to look
forward to an everlasting life in a land where all is peace and
quiet. For my part, Sheshbazzar, if there exists such a place I
oned in treceive took to


ORMA'S FELLOW PRISONER
293
am willing to leave this present life and all it contains to seek
that mysterious land the Medes believe in."
“Nevertheless this is a grand old world, Vulmaran, and con-
tains much worth living for," answered the prince.
"Not for me," said the former rab mag, sadly, “I have lost
my son and mine office at the same time. I am ruined finan-
cially and politically and I fear I must seek a home elsewhere.
Nabonidos dare do me no harm openly but I fear a stab in the
dark.”
"For my part I have a higher opinion of the king than I once
held,” said Sheshbazzar, his mind still filled with the morn-
ing's events.
"I trust him not. Remember, Sheshbazzar, I have served
him, have known of his every act, have been an accomplice in
many of his crimes. I know the man and I know his methods.
Therefore I say unto thee I fear his vengeance. Such words
as I yesterday spoke unto him will not go unpunished. But
thyself! How comes it thou art thus boldly traversing these
streets in thy true character? Knowest thou not, there is a
price upon thy head? Why two days since I would have be-
trayed thee myself, such was the blind allegiance I gave yonder
tyrant. Art thou not in danger ?"
In a few words Sheshbazzar outlined his present standing
with the king.
"Ah, friend, be not deceived. Believe me, behind that fair
face and those pleasant words there lurks the greatest villain
yet unslain. Remember this: Nabonidos takes not back into
his good graces those who once lost them.”
"He seemeth most sincere.”
“I doubt not he seemeth so, but as soon trust thy wife in
the temple of Beltis as trust this king. Remember, I have
warned thee. If after my words thou feelest the sting of yon-
der viper, thou hast only thyself to blame."
“I share not thy opinion, Vulmaran, but nevertheless I
thank thee for thy warning.


294
RHESA
Without another word he turned and sprang into the sad-
dle.
"Better far to trust Nabonidos than this villain. Ah, Iddin,
thou must have had a noble mother whose blood offset thy
father's, or thy religion must have a wonderful power to change
men,” he murmured as he rode away.
“Ha, Nabonidos, to spite me thou takest back this young
upstart and heapest honors upon him. Vulmaran is not dead,
however, nor yet asleep. Thou mayest hear from him yet,”
murmured Vulmaran.
Sheshbazzar continued his journey without further interrup-
tion and reached his old home just as Neboakhu returned from
the morning sacrifice. The meeting between the two men was
an affecting one. The old priest shed tears of joy at again
beholding the young man he had brought up as his own son.
Together they passed into the house, a servant taking posses-
sion of the prince's horse. The old man shook his head as
the younger one told of the king's actions but said nothing to
show that he felt any doubts as to the monarch's sincerity.
Pleasant as was his visit in his old home Sheshbazzar did not
allow himself to forget the work he had laid out for the morn-
ing. After a brief conversation with the priest he asked for the
chariot, and in a few moments the vehicle was at the door,
driven as usual by the ever-faithful Susa. Sheshbazzar bade
the old man farewell, after telling him of the adventure he was
about to undertake. A moment later he was in the vehicle
that had so oft before carried him through the streets of the
Golden City.
Immediately after the chariot came to a stop at the entrance
to the Hanging Gardens he alighted. He stopped only to
order Susa to remain until he returned; adding, if he did not
return within a reasonable time the driver should consider
some harm had befallen him and procure assistance. These in-
junctions Susa promised to obey faithfully. The prince then
began his long climb to the top of Nebuchadnezzar's stately
pile. He was not apprehensive of danger, but to guard against


296
RHESA
a the only cenings and of delicaser.
of Orma's prison since it was the only one fastened upon the
outside. He hastily undid the heavy fastenings and threw back
the bolt. He hesitated a moment from feelings of delicacy.
While it was his loved one's prison it was also her chamber.
He pushed the door open slightly and again waited. Through
the narrow opening he could see Orma standing as we have
already seen her, in the corner as if awaiting an enemy. He
could not wait longer but pushed the door wide open and
sprang in.
“Orma, my love!” he cried.
“My prince!” she said, advancing to meet him.
He opened his arms and clasped her to his bosom, at the
same moment kissing her full upon her arching lips. It was
a moment of unalloyed joy for both, the first real outburst of
their affections. Before the full tide of their affection all re-
membrances of Nehum's objections were washed away. Come
what might, henceforth they belonged to each other. Orma
for the moment forgot even the religious barrier between them.
He loved her and she him; what else was needed? The con-
viction came to both that from that moment no power on
earth could separate them. All that remained was the over-
coming of minor difficulties.
While they were thus absorbed in each other's love, they
failed to see the figure of a man glide up to the door, tiptoe
into the room and softly pull the door shut. Only as the
bolts were shot into place Sheshbazzar heard the click and
turned to learn the cause. As he beheld the door barred upon
them he turned again to Orma his face white and drawn. He
looked at her in consternation. No fear for himself could
cause such despair. He thought only of Orma and of the posi-
tion she was innocently placed in. An act of his had com-
promised the one he loved. No incident connected with his
lost cause had so overwhelmed him as this. He felt he had
forever ruined the woman that he loved, but, as he thought
upon it, he could not blame himself. He realized how honor-


ORMA'S FELLOW PRISONER
299
stopped abruptly upon seeing another occupant of the chamber.
Orma noticing her confusion hastened to explain.
"Maraida, this is Prince Sheshbazzar, come to rescue me and
himself made a prisoner.”
“Prince," she continued, “this is Maraida who saved thy life
by giving another babe to die for thee.”
“Can it be possible?” he exclaimed, rising to greet the woman.
“I have often questioned those who knew the circumstances of
my rescue concerning thee but not one could tell what became
of thee after the murder. I hope some day I can reward thee
as thou deservest. For the present I can only express my grati-
tude."
Maraida set down her burden, expressing as she did so the
hope that she had brought enough for two. The prince drew
his stool up beside Orma and together they partook of the re-
freshments. The woman sat silently watching them as they ate.
She was evidently absorbed in thought. When they finished
eating she arose and hastily collected what remained, prepara-
tory to taking her departure.
At the door she stopped and turned to speak to them.
“Tonight,” she said, and then hesitated. “Tonight," she
repeated, "when all is dark and still I will unbolt the door.
Thou wilt then know what to do.”
- "Oh, Maraida, thou art an angel !” exclaimed Orma. “But,"
she added, “thou must come with us.
Maraida shook her head sadly.
"Ah no," she said, “I have been here so long I would not
know how to live elsewhere. Here I have spent the best years
of my life and here I must die.”
Before either of them could speak she had glided through the
door and closed it behind her.


300
RHESA
CHAPTER XXXVIII
INTO THE DARK WATERS
The hours of the afternoon drifted slowly by, yet but for
their present predicament both prisoners would have found the
time enjoyable. As it was the irksomeness of their imprison-
ment was greatly relieved by the joy of being together. Thus
while the time passed slowly, its flight was more rapid than it
would have seemed to either one alone. To Orma, in com-
parison with the other days of her captivity, it passed quickly.
The afternoon was spent wholly in conversation. Up to this
time they had never been alone save for an occasional very brief
period. Because of their previous lack of opportunities the
present communion was doubly precious. The prince, usually
so reserved, in the presence of his love revealed his whole nature,
his deep love and his true nobility of character. Their conversa-
tion touched upon nearly every topic, one only being omitted,
that of religion. Orma, with her womanly tact, saw little to
be gained by continually harassing the prince upon a subject
she knew to be distasteful to him.
With evening came Maraida bearing a tray well supplied
with food and drink. Together they partook of the refresh-
ment, and as they ate Sheshbazzar questioned the woman as
to the number and location of the guards. She informed him
there were usually six eunuchs in attendance at the villa, but
of late several negro slaves had been added. During the after-
noon, she said, several palace guards had arrived and were sta-
tioned outside the villa and scattered through the gardens. The
prince received this unwelcome information with the calmness
peculiar to his race, but it gave him inward misgivings. He
realized the difficulties ahead of him, and he almost despaired
of effecting an escape, even with Maraida's assistance. As she
told of the number of guards, a question presented itself to his
mind and he at once gave it utterance.


INTO THE DARK WATERS
301
“With this force on guard, how was I able to enter so
easily?” he asked.
"Perhaps they were willing to let thee in,” she answered
naïvely.
"I see it all,” he said. "Anticipating this attempt on my part,
Belshazzar gave orders to allow me to enter and then keep me
here. Orma, we must leave here tonight. Better to die escap-
ing than to remain in this place."
"We will die together,” she said, her face pale but her lips
tightly closed with determination.
“I will keep my word if it is possible," said Maraida.
“Hast thou then doubts as to thy ability to help us?” he
asked.
“There are many difficulties in the way,” she answered, “but
I am a privileged person here and I may be able to carry out
the part I suggested. It all depends upon how the guards are
placed. Should they be inside the building I cannot aid thee.
If I find I cannot undo the fastenings of the door I will en-
deavor to find some other means of assisting thee. Believe me
thou must leave tonight. Tomorrow the king leaves the city
and everything will be left in the hands of Belshazzar. He can
then carry out his plans without fear. I have assurance that
up to this time fear of his father has restrained him. For sev-
eral days the old king has contrived to keep his son within the
palace.”
“But Nabonidos has promised to release Orma," interposed
the prince.
The woman hesitated, surprised at the information. Sud-
denly a light seemed to break in upon her.
“Then Nabonidos it was who sent the guards here this after-
noon. But Belshazzar has turned them to his own purposes.
The officer in command is already deep in league with the boy.
I have been questioning one of the guards and therefore I know
whereof I speak.”
"What is the officer's name?" asked the prince.
"Shemakin,” she replied.


302
RHESA
"Shemakin, the traitor!" cried the prince, leaping to his feet.
For several moments he paced back and forth before the two
women. His hands were clenched and his swarthy brow was
as dark as a thunder cloud. His passions were striving to gain
the mastery over him and were well nigh successful. All trace
of his habitual calmness was gone. At length he stopped his
rapid walk and faced the woman of his heart.
"Orma!” he exclaimed. “There will be death here in this
place tonight and if my hand strikes down a fellow man thou
must not judge me harshly. We will escape without shedding
blood if possible, but rather than be foiled in our attempt I
shall use my weapons and strike to kill. This Shemakin is the
man whose treachery defeated me in my attempt to win the
throne. If this night we meet the hand behind the dagger will
be strengthened by revenge."
Orma looked upon her lover surprised and fearful. Never
before had she seen this side of his character. To her he had
always been the courtly, gallant noble. His manner toward
her had always been one of gentleness. She had never before
realized the depth of passion of which he was capable. Yet,
though she shrank from him in his present mood, she secretly
admired him. She realized as well as a woman could the forces
that inspired such passion but she secretly prayed that he be
saved from the crime of murder.
He turned away from them and approached the window. For
several moments he stood there leaning against the casement.
The eyes of both women were upon him; both realized the
struggle taking place within him. At length his better nature
triumphed over his dark passion and, when he turned to them
again his brow was serene, his lips smiling. All traces of the
murderous mood had passed away and he stood before them
calm and self-possessed.
He seated himself upon the couch beside Orma and drew her
to him.
"My love,” he whispered, "forgive this outburst. I was be-
side myself and knew not what I said. For the moment my


INTO THE DARK 305
WATERS
WATERS
here and go to thy home it would but bring trouble upon the
heads of thyself and friends. As to a companion, my dear, me-
thinks thou wilt soon have one more to thy liking than a former
concubine. Ah no, I must die here. I am inured to the life
now. I can stand it a few years more. Then death will release
me forever."
"Be it as thou wishest," answered Orma sadly as she put her
arm around the woman's waist.
"If I live and leave this place I shall always remember thee
and sooner or later I hope to welcome thee to my home. If
I die thou wilt have the consciousness of having done a kind-
ness in even allowing me to find death instead of dishonor.
Thou hast made my captivity less irksome and I shall always
love thee for it."
Maraida turned to Orma and whispered: "Before thou
leavest this place I have something to say unto thee. Come to
the other side of the room.”
Orma followed her wonderingly. In a few brief terse sen-
tences the woman revealed unto her a secret that made her heart
beat violently and sent the blood coursing through her veins.
“Remember, my dear, this secret is not to be disclosed to
anyone; at least not for the present,” she said in closing.
“Come, all is ready,” called the prince.
Orma turned hastily to Maraida and, reaching up, kissed
her tenderly. “Farewell Maraida, until we meet again," she
whispered.
The prince climbed down from the couch and felt his way
across the room until he stood beside them. Then he too, in a
few brief manly sentences bade farewell to the woman who
had saved his life.
Maraida left the room and they heard the bars slide into
place. They were alone and all was ready for their escape.
The prince placed his arm tenderly about his love and pressed
her tightly to his breast. He kissed her upon her fair white
forehead and whispered in her ear:


INTO THE DARK WATERS
307
She dropped upon her knees and followed him as best she
could. He followed the route he had previously taken until
they reached the corner of the house. Then he branched off to
the left, keeping in the shadow of a row of shrubs, Orma fol-
lowing at a distance of about four feet. They kept behind the
shrubs until they had completed a half-circle and were in front
of the villa but upon the opposite side of the path leading to the
stairs. Sheshbazzar arose and whispered to Orma. She arose
and stood behind him.
"We will wait a moment and then hurry to the stairs. Keep
behind trees and bushes all the way, but wait, give me thy
hand and we will keep together, else if the guard become
alarmed we may become separated,” he said.
Thus together they made a dash for the stairs, keeping well
to the edge of the mound and as far from the path as possible.
A few moments later they paused behind a clump of trees
close beside the stairway. Their next step would place them
in the open with nothing but the dim light to aid them.
Sheshbazzar waited only a moment for Orma to regain her
breath. Then he dropped to his knees again and crawled to
the edge of the stairway. He half raised himself and peered
over the stone parapet. Just beneath him he could barely dis-
tinguish the figure of a man sitting upon the stairs. He turned
and retraced his steps to Orma's side.
"There is a guard at the head of the stairs, my love. May
the gods forgive me the deed but our safety requires his death.
Come," he whispered hoarsely.
She nestled close beside him and together they worked their
way through the bushes toward the stairs. At the very edge
of the clearing he left her while he went to clear the path of
the obstacle. Orma remained behind a small shrub and awaited
his return. Her heart beat so violently that its pulsations
seemed almost audible. Moments that seemed ages passed and
her lover did not return. She listened but not a sound came to
tell her of what was taking place. At length she heard a rustle
beside her and in another moment the prince was with her.


308
RHESA
"Our path is clear," he said in a tense strained whisper.
Trusting herself to his guidance she followed him. Near the
head of the stairs they paused while he gave her a few whis-
pered directions.
"We must make a dash for it,” he said. "Keep close to me
and if anyone opposes us, do thou stand behind me.”
He sprang across the intervening space and she following,
they reached the head of the stairs safely and started down.
Orma stumbled but quickly regained her balance, noticing with
horror the object that tripped her feet. It was the body of
the guard. Down, down they hurried. In their anxiety it
seemed as if the stairs were innumerable, but at length they
reached the bottom. Once upon the next stage the prince
breathed more freely. He imagined the guards would all be
upon the topmost terrace, but for all his belief, he did not
relax his vigilance. From the foot of the first stairway to the
top of the second was less than an hundred feet. Still keeping
in the shrubbery they described another circle and in fifteen
minutes were at the head of the second stairway. The prince
reconnoitered again but found no guard.
As before they made a dash down the stairs, reaching the
bottom in safety. In the shrubbery at the foot they stopped
to rest a moment before going farther. Neither spoke. The
shadow of the deed committed at the first stairs weighed upon
both their minds. It was the first time Sheshbazzar had used
a dagger in the dark and the deed was distasteful to his sol-
dier's sense of honor. Nevertheless it was an act of necessity.
They waited but a few moments. Then the prince arose and
assisted Orma to do likewise. They continued their way as
before, always keeping well hidden in the shrubbery, yet always
near enough the path to prevent losing their way. In a few
moments they had reached the foot of the next stairway, and
they were on the lowest terrace. One more stairway and they
would be upon solid ground but the most difficult portion of
their descent yet remained. Heretofore they had been trav-
ersing the eastern or water side of the garden, but now they


310
RHESA
find this precious pair. Ten talents will buy a farm up the
river and we'll be land owners."
The prince saw them leave but he was unable to make out
Shemakin. He was sure the officer left the spot, but he knew
not in which direction he went. Meanwhile Orma sat upon
the grass trembling in every limb. Capture seemed imminent,
for if they could not get out of the gardens before daylight
they were lost. All depended on their reaching safety before
the sun rose or for that matter before the moon rose. The
prince turned to her. .
"My love,” he whispered, "we cannot stay here. By remain-
ing here we may elude them for the present but they will
surely find us in the morning.”
As a child Sheshbazzar had made the gardens his play-
ground and every inch of their surface was familiar to him.
This knowledge was now to stand him in good stead. He
remembered the existence of a narrow shaft that led down from
this terrace into the pillared gallery below. If they could but
reach that gallery they would be reasonably secure, for amid
those countless columns, each one more than twenty feet in
circumference, it would be impossible to find them. To reach
the shaft, however, they would have to cross a wide, open path;
but there was no alternative. He assisted Orma to her feet
but she sank down again with a groan. He bent over her
tenderly.
"Orma, my love, what aileth thee?” he asked.
“Oh, my ankle,” she moaned, “it is sprained.”
He reached down and felt of the injured member. It was
already badly swollen. She had sprained it when she stumbled
over the dead guard, but had kept bravely on with never a
murmur. He remembered now how several times he had been
obliged to urge her to further haste. It was an unfortunate
accident but could not be helped. There was but one thing
to do and the prince did it. He picked her up bodily and with
her in his arms set out to find the shaft that led to liberty.


INTO THE DARK WATERS
311
Before he had gone twenty feet he ran plump into a guard.
Turning instantly he dashed away in the opposite direction.
mi “Ho, guards,” called the fellow lustily.
1 Men seemed to rise from the ground, so quickly were they
1 surrounded. The prince glanced hastily around him. Scarcely
ten feet away he saw the clump of trees that surrounded the
j shaft, but between him and the goal he wished to reach were
three guards. He turned in all directions. He seemed hemmed
i in but he mentally resolved to die hard.
"Orma, my love, thou hast a dagger. Turn it on thyself if
• I am killed,” he whispered.
go Then shifting her so that her weight came upon his left arm
and shoulder, he grasped his dagger firmly in his right hand
i and sprang through a clump of bushes. Orma though short
was plump and her weight was no trifle, but the prince was
i muscular and while his burden was somewhat of a hindrance,
he made good time. The guards gave chase. A fortune awaited
the man who caught them. Through the underbrush he dashed,
Orma clinging firmly to his neck. He dodged and turned back
upon his tracks several times, ever striving to reach the shaft
but unconsciously getting farther away from it and nearer to
the edge of the mound.
The numbers of his pursuers increased and they were fast
closing in upon him. He ran hither and thither only to be
confronted by a guard at each turn and forced back. He saw
clearly that this sort of chase must end in capture. The guards
hitherto had acted as individuals, each man striving to capture
the fugitives single handed that he might secure the entire
reward, but now Shemakin had joined them and under his
e directions they formed a complete circle about the fugitives.
Thus in a long unbroken line the guards closed in upon them.
3 Sheshbazzar stopped a moment and looked about him to
find, if possible, an opening through which he could dash. He
t was sure from the numbers composing the circle that practi-
cally all the guards had joined the chase. Therefore if he
could elude that advancing line his chances of reaching the


TO THE FRONT
313
Sat he coupon the ats. The
- barge left the landing. It was followed immediately by the
- second. Sheshbazzar left Orma while he made his way to
the very edge of the gallery to watch their movements. The
first rays of the rising moon were reflected upon the glass sur-
face of the reservoir and by their light he could distinguish the
figures in the two barges. Their numbers gave him a sudden
hope and he hastily returned to Orma.
“Come,” he said, "we must find the shaft and return to the
terrace above. Practically all of the guards are in the boats
looking for us in the water. If we are quick we can gain the
street before they give up their search.”
. He lifted her tenderly in his arms and started in the direction
of the shaft. It was not an easy task to find it in the dark al-
though he knew its location perfectly. In a vast gallery like the
one they were traversing, where its only feature was duplicated
a thousand times, it was hard to locate any definite spot. At
length, after many turnings and wanderings he came upon the
narrow shaft where he least expected it. Contained within the
shaft was a steep and narrow staircase leading up to the gardens
above. It was so narrow that he could not carry Orma as he
had been doing, but had to take her upon his back. She put
her arms about his neck and clung to him as he slowly mounted
step by step to the gardens above.
They emerged in the center of a clump of trees where even if
surrounded by enemies they would have been unseen. The
prince laid down his burden beside a giant trunk while he went
outside to reconnoiter. As far as he could judge the garden
was deserted. He returned quickly and again took up his
burden, which lovely though it was, was fast becoming almost
unendurably heavy.
Cautiously he made his way through the seemingly deserted
garden, always keeping in the shadow as far as possible. Upon
this stage of the gardens there were many open spaces, causing
him to make long detours to avoid crossing them. The moon
had now risen, enjoining him to still greater vigilance. Hereto-
fore the darkness had been their chief ally but now amidst the


314
RHESA
silvery radiance all could be seen. Orma was becoming heavier
every moment until it seemed to the prince that he must drop
her. She, brave girl, several times offered to walk again but
he persistently rejected her offers. A soldier is always more or
less of a surgeon and he accordingly was aware of the seriousness
of her hurt. It seemed miraculous that her will had kept her
going so long before revealing the injury to him.
The darkest night at length gives way to day, the longest
journey is eventually completed, the hardest task is at last
finished. At length he emerged from the shadow of the
clump of trees nearest the land stairs and looked about him
to see if all was clear. Instantly he was seen by a soldier
who was standing close at hand. The man raised a trumpet
to his lips and blew three long blasts. From all parts of the
garden men came running. The prince turned to retreat but
a tall soldier opposed him. He turned to the right and a
soldier stood there. It was useless. They were caged with the
last avenue of escape closed to them. The prince dropped Orma
beside the nearest large tree while he, standing beside her, his
back to the trunk, awaited the coming enemy. In his right
hand he held his only remaining dagger, the other having been
lost at the moment he leaped into the reservoir.
The soldiers made no move to take them but stood around
as if waiting for their commander. In a few moments he came.
"Thanks be to Bel,” he cried as he sprang toward the de-
spairing, beaten prince.
It was Belibus. Instantly the fugitive recognized the soldiers.
They were the Winged Lions. The sudden revulsion of feeling
sapped his remaining strength and he sank down beside Orma.
His weakness was but momentary and he arose again. Belibus
grasped his hand affectionately as he gained his feet.
"Oh my Prince," he cried, "we feared thine enemies had
triumphed."
"How happens it thou art here?" asked the prince:
Belibus made no direct reply. To change the subject he an-
nounced the presence at the land stairs of a chariot to convey


TO THE FRONT
317
“What adventure hast thou had ?" asked the king.
"Nothing at all serious. I merely assisted a young woman to
escape from the hands of a seducer,” he answered, glancing at
Belshazzar and receiving a look of enmity in return.
The monarch smiled as if he understood the adventure re-
ferred to. His next remark proved his knowledge.
"Thou wouldst not trust thy king, but must needs perform
the deed of valor alone and unassisted; but hold, I yesterday
sent a company of guards to liberate the maiden.”
The prince shrugged his shoulders.
“Let us hope," he said, “our troops opposing Cyrus will
better obey their orders.”
“They disobeyed? I will attend to this matter upon my
return. There is now no time. Another time, Prince, it
would be best to take thy king into thy confidence. Here
this worthy priest Neboakhu has turned the city upside down
and even accused his sovereign of murder, all because a young
adventurer went off to rescue his lady fair with his single arm.
To appease the angry priest I arose from my couch during
the small hours and sent Belibus to find thee."
"For that act accept my sincere thanks, King Nabonidos.
Belibus arrived in time to enable me to reach thee before thou
left the city. Had I known the odds against me I would not
have undertaken the task alone,” replied the prince looking
suggestively at Belshazzar.
"As long as thou art here to go with us this morning no
harm is done but it would have gone hard with whoever
prevented thy being here," said the king, raising his voice.
It was more apparent than ever before to those standing
about how great a farce was the elevation of Belshazzar.
While his father had previously treated him as an associate and
even made a show of consultation with him, this morning he
had given him orders as imperative and explicit as he would
have given to a common officer. Now that the conversation
turned upon military matters the boy was ignored entirely.
He sat on his throne, moody and silent, alone and despised.


318
RHESA
word
He sullenly watched the scene about him, his face dark and
forbidding.
At an opportune time when Sheshbazzar was momentarily
disengaged, Belshazzar slipped to his side and hissed into his
ear:
“Thou hast beaten me for the moment, Sheshbazzar, but
my turn will come. Despite this silly friendship my father has
suddenly shown for thee, I will have my revenge. Remember
from today I am sole king within these walls."
“I fear thee not, Belshazzar, but remember thou, if aught
befalls the woman of my heart while I am gone I will have
thy life though I were to die the next moment," was the reply.
Sheshbazzar's tone was calm and dispassionate but he spoke
with an air of stern determination that informed his hearer
he meant every word.
Nabonidos, who had been absent from the room for several
moments, now returned completely attired and accoutred for
the journey. He approached Sheshbazzar, and the boy king,
muttering something unintelligible, slipped away.
“Thou art wet Prince, and must make a change of garments.
In the anteroom adjoining thou wilt find clothing and armor
befitting thy rank as commander of the forces of Babylon," said
the king.
The prince went at once to the apartment mentioned and with
the assistance of a servant he there found, donned the mag-
nificent uniform a generous monarch had provided for him.
All the gorgeousness the customs of the land and time de-
manded was condensed in the king's costly gift. The garments
were made of the richest material, the original ground work
almost hidden beneath the splendid embroideries. The armor
was of the finest hammered bronze covered with representa-
tions of battle and hunting scenes etched on by the most expert
engravers of the age, while here and there a precious stone was
embedded. The sword was short but unusually heavy; it was
double-edged and had a hilt of gold and pearl.
As soon as he was arrayed in this gorgeous attire the prince


322
RHESA
A flood of light was let into the prince's mind by these words.
While openly opposing him the king had been his secret friend
Still there were many points yet unexplained.
“But thou sent a force to take me prisoner when I was in
the city, disguised as an Arab, and thou sent a force against my
camp with orders to take me dead or alive,” he said.
Again the king smiled.
"When that Arab entered my presence I recognized him at
once and determined to protect him. When Vulmaran also be-
came possessed of the information I saw need of getting thee
without the city. I therefore sent a company to take thee and
carry thee to Sippara in order to keep thee out of Vulmaran's
power. Thou wert rescued by whom I know not, but the next I
heard thou wert at the head of a rebellious band. As king of
Babylon it was my duty to break up that rebellion. When I
heard that thy life had been sacrificed I was sad for I had
hoped thou wouldst be taken alive and had given orders to
that end."
"King Nabonidos," said the prince gravely, “I have indeed
much to thank thee for. Thou, whom I have cursed as an
enemy, hast in reality been my best friend."
“Thus is it always in life, Prince," observed the king. "One
must know a man a lifetime ere classing him as friend or foe.”
CHAPTER XL
THE TEST OF ARMS
It was late in the evening when King Nabonidos, Prince
Sheshbazzar and their party rode into Sippara and went into
quarters there. The first information to greet them was of
the proximity of the Persians, who were encamped without the
walls and it was expected that they would attack the following
morning. To meet this emergency the new commander of the
Babylonian forces remained up all night, conferring with his


324
RHESA
Upon the edge of the natural plateau selected by the ancient
builder as the site of the holy city of Sippara, he stopped and in-
tently watched the scene about and below him. A mile away,
upon rising ground was the camp of the Persians, now alive
with men hurrying hither and thither, forming into columns
that they might get into line before the army of Babylon could
strike. Beneath and midway between the city and the hostile
camp were the advancing hosts of the Golden City, pushing
forward with all the speed possible with their serried formation.
It was a beautiful sight, this long line of warriors crowding for-
ward, compact and solid, through the long grass still wet with
the morning dew. Alas, ere the dew dried off a sadder moisture
would be mingled with it, the blood of Babylon's best and
noblest.
It was a critical moment. From out the opposite camp now
filed the countless hosts of Media and Persia with their allied
forces. With the celerity of long training column after column
wheeled into line of battle until, some moments before the
attacking line could strike, the solid ranks of spearmen and
archers were braced for the shock and behind them, stretching
away row on row were the horsemen and chariots.
“We lose the advantage of surprise,” said Sheshbazzar quietly,
speaking to Belibus who was at his side. Behind the two young
men was a group of officers and nobles assigned by the king to
duty as the general's staff while behind them still, impatiently
awaiting their opportunity were the Winged Lions.
Another instant and the Babylonian cavalry broke into a gal-
lop. On they went a very whirlwind of horses and men. In a
moment the two lines came together and the leathern breeched
warriors fell back. Slowly but surely they gave way before the
irresistible horsemen of Babylon. Behind the cavalry marched
the solid masses of infantry, following closely upon the attack-
ing force, ready at any moment to join in the fray. The Persian
infantry broke and wheeled, leaving broad avenues through
which dashed the Persian horse galloping madly. The Baby-
lonian cavalry wheeled, leaving the spearmen and archers to


THE TEST OF ARMS
325
receive the oncoming enemy. For a moment it seemed to the
Babylonian commander as if his infantry gave way before the
attack of the enemy's cavalry, but no, as the lines of horsemen
came to a standstill the spearmen of Babylon could be seen
standing as the walls of their capital city, an unbroken solid
line. From the Babylonian archers there now flew clouds of
arrows carrying death and panic into Persia's broken ranks.
Watch ye, men of Babylon, for a new force in warfare is now
coming against thee. The long line of chariots starts, the
broken ranks of horsemen hastily making room for the new-
comers. It was a grand sight. The sun shone upon the pol-
ished accoutrements of the horses and glanced from the long
cruel scythes that projected from the chariot axles. The solid
phalanxes of Babylon awaited silently and grimly the attack
of the, to them, strange branch of warfare, but they had their
orders and were merely waiting to carry them out, conscious
that the genius of their commander had provided a method of
rendering useless this important arm of the enemy's service.
When the oncoming line of vehicles was within a hundred
paces of the stern men awaiting them, a shower of well directed
arrows saluted them. The archers carried out their part well.
Dead and wounded horses and men cumbered the field hinder-
ing their uninjured comrades. Instantly following the volley
the ranks of the infantry broke into groups leaving wide spaces
between them, into which such chariots as were not wrecked
dashed. Then the lines again closed up and the chariots were
at their mercy. King Cyrus watching the conflict from a slight
eminence behind his line was filled with dismay at this catas-
trophe to his favorite arm. He instantly took command of his
now reformed cavalry and ordered another charge. Again that
stern unbending line beat back the Persian horsemen.. They
were assisted by the condition of the field, cumbered as it was
with dead and wounded horses and disabled chariots. The
archers sent volley after volley into the retreating ranks and
the Babylonian cavalry harassed their flanks. Only the personal
efforts of the conqueror himself prevented a rout.


326
RHESA
That plan had failed but King Cyrus had another, and after
that another and another still. However he found his confi-
dence fast oozing out. He thought he had misjudged Na-
bonidos. Ah no, King Cyrus, thou art battling today against
a foeman worthy of thy steel, who had he assumed command
of that army months ago, might have changed the history of
Asia and indeed of the world. But the Omnipotent rules and
He is directing this Flodden Field of Mesopotamia.
After the failure of the charge that he had led in person,
Cyrus ordered his infantry forward to a hand-to-hand engage-
ment, placing in the front his invincible Median legions.
Upon the opposite elevation Prince Sheshbazzar sat silent
and thoughtful watching the conflict beneath him. Occasion-
ally he sent an aide with some instructions to those leading the
various bodies of troops. Around him his officers were laugh-
ing and talking, elated at the present aspect of affairs and con-
fident of success. Many a word of compliment was spoken
of the silent young commander, but he, apparently so calm and
at his ease, had little hope of winning the battle. He had been
in the Persian camp and had some idea of the vast, innumer-
able hosts at his opponent's command. Then too, he realized
far more than any other how greatly his brave little army had
needed a commander for months past.
As he sat deeply intent upon the scene beneath him he sud-
denly raised his eyes and met with a sight that brought dismay
to his heart. The sight was a body of Persian cavalry of such
proportions as to be almost innumerable, approaching the Baby-
lonian left Alank at a gallop. The prince acted instantly.
“Yaddina, ride thou to Nergalmakin and order him to our
support. The Winged Lions will attack yonder force," he
cried pointing to the flanking column.
The officer designated dashed off to carry the message to the
commander of the Babylonian cavalry. “Forward, men, at a
gallop.” The prince's command rang loud and clear.
With a cry the Winged Lions were in motion, the prince and
Belibus at their head. Across the intervening plain they dashed


328
RHESA
another moment, but the thrust never came. He heard a sharp
word of command and saw the spear withdrawn. He noticed
also that the battle seemed over.
"Arise, Sheshbazzar," he heard a voice say. “This would
indeed be a sorrowful day were such a life as thine sacrificed.”
The prince struggled to his feet and looked for the speaker.
Near at hand, seated upon a superb gray stallion, was Cyrus,
King of Persia.
“King Cyrus," said the prince, "again do I owe my life to
thee.”
"Mention it not, Sheshbazzar. I saw thy beautiful charge
and knew what its result must be, so I hastened here to stop
the slaughter if possible. Thanks be to the gods I arrived in
time."
"All this day have I been puzzled at the manner in which
thy army fought. Expecting Nabonidos to command in per-
son I had thought to win an easy victory, but as soon as the
battle began I saw that I had a soldier to deal with. A few
moments since a captured officer informed me the name of the
wonderful soldier who for a moment made me despair of vic-
tory."
The prince bowed silently in recognition of the compliment.
“I suppose I am thy prisoner," he said a moment later.
"Nay, Prince," responded the generous conqueror. “Join
thy troops, if thou canst find them. Thou hast fought a good
fight but my numbers and my destiny were against thee. My
armies are at this moment marching into Sippara, while thy
king and the remnant of thy heroic force are hastening toward
Babylon."
“A horse for this soldier," he commanded.
Sheshbazzar accepted the animal a soldier brought him and
mounted at once.
"Again I accept thy kindness, King Cyrus. I trust the day
will come when I can show my gratitude to thee,” he said.
“Never fear. God has a work for thee yet, Sheshbazzar," an-
swered the conqueror.


THE TEST OF ARMS
329
The prince thanked his generous enemy and, turning his
horse's head toward Babylon, rode slowly away. He looked
about for Belibus and the Winged Lions but found no trace
of them.
The mount furnished by King Cyrus was not one he would
have selected from his private stables to bestow upon a friend.
He was tall and bony but like many unhandsome steeds was
capable of considerable speed. The prince urged him forward.
He was anxious to reach the head of the retreating army and
lead it into Babylon in fairly good order. He took the defeat
philosophically; indeed he had expected it. To soften the bit-
terness of it was the joy of having put up a good fight. He was
proud of his army and its heroic struggle against overwhelming
ing odds. He was still hopeful of maintaining a desperate de-
fense behind the impregnable walls of the capital.
Occasionally he passed a group of soldiers hastening toward
Babylon. For all he had the same command: "Return to
Babylon with all speed.”
Thus he rode on until nightfall, when tethering his horse to
a solitary tree, he threw himself upon the grass, exhausted.
Two nights without sleep and one day without food was more
than even his iron frame could stand.
At ten o'clock the next morning he rode into Babylon, a city
wild and panic-stricken. Reports of the great defeat were cir-
culating freely through the streets, gaining additional size and
details with each repetition. The inhabitants were terrified,
momentarily expecting the approach of the victorious Persians.
At the gateway the prince passed a solitary group of soldiers
who were just entering.
“Where is the rest of the army?” he asked.
“At Borsippa, sir," responded an officer.
“Borsippa ?” he cried, "who ordered it there?”
“The king, sir," was the reply.
The prince made no comment but rode on, sad and dis-
couraged. Nabonidos had closed his reign with the greatest
blunder of his life.


THE WORK OF A TRAITOR
331
CHAPTER XLI
THE WORK OF A TRAITOR
Shortly before noon of the second day following the defeat
of the Babylonian army at Sippara, the vanguard of the Per-
sian host reached Babylon and before nightfall the next follow-
ing day the investment of the city was complete. In order to
realize the magnitude of King Cyrus's army it is only neces-
sary to remember that the total length of the great outer wall
was fifty-six miles. The people realized at once that they were
in for a siege and no doubt a long one. Such walls as theirs
could be neither pierced nor scaled and only by strategy or
starvation could the city be taken. All the gates had been
promptly closed and the guards upon the walls trebled.
Throughout the day following the battle small parties of
soldiers to whom the king's orders were unknown or whom
Sheshbazzar had directed to Babylon, drifted into the city.
Among them came Belibus and some twenty members of the
Winged Lions, all that remained of that once proud organiza-
tion.
Sheshbazzar had ridden directly from the house of Nehum
to the palace and had had an interview with Belshazzar. His
first impulse had been to charge the boy king with Orma's
abduction and demand her release, but his second thought told
him such a step would be unwise. He decided it would be bet-
ter not to put Belshazzar upon his guard by such action. He
determined to secretly ascertain the location of her new prison,
rightly judging that the villa at the Hanging Gardens would
not be used a second time. He therefore said nothing of the
subject uppermost in his mind although hot words were con-
tinually upon his tongue demanding utterance. He had quietly
informed the king that he was there as Commander-in-Chief of
the army to receive such orders as the king desired to give in
regard to the defence of the city. The boy fidgeted uneasily


332
RHESA
at first, but not knowing what else to say, he at length com-
mitted the full charge of the defence into the prince's hands.
Armed with this authority Sheshbazzar at once placed himself
in touch with such remnants of the army as were within the
walls. All told these forces amounted to less than six thou-
sand men, including the two thousand always stationed in the
city to guard the walls. In an emergency he could call upon
the palace and city guards, numbering in all about five hundred
men.
His first official act was the issuance of a proclamation call-
ing upon all able-bodied citizens to volunteer for service in this
hour of their nation's peril. He established himself in the old
palace, the headquarters of the Winged Lions, and from this
central fortress directed the work of defence. The ever-faith-
ful Belibus, one arm disabled by a severe sword cut, was at his
side ready to carry out any order his beloved superior might
have for him, from running an errand to leading a forlorn
hope. A small nature would have been jealous in Belibus's
place. The elevation of Sheshbazzar had thrown a blanket
over whatever ambitions the commander of the Winged Lions
had. During the fight at Sippara he had behaved with his
usual gallantry, but he had been overshadowed by the person-
ality of the prince. No such thoughts, however, found lodg-
ment in the great heart of Belibus. His love and admiration
for the man at once his commander and his friend left no room
for such unworthy feelings.
As a result of the prince's proclamation many citizens re-
ported at the old palace. All such were gladly welcomed, fur-
nished with arms and assigned to duty. The first recruit
enlisted was the venerable Neboakhu who marched to the old
palace at the head of three hundred priests.
“We are men of peace,” he said, “but in times like these all
men must learn to fight.”
On the afternoon of June seventeenth (the day the Persians
completed the lines about the city) the two young soldiers were
together in the prince's apartment in the old palace, discussing


336
RHESA
wn to the he passed the Mecht. He could not wine
“But why canst thou not give me the information here and
now?” asked the prince.
"Because, sir, I cannot direct thee in such a manner as would
enable thee to find her alone; but tonight, after the wine has
all been hoisted into the palace, I can conduct thee to the place.”
Sheshbazzar eyed the fellow suspiciously but he seemed
straightforward and honest and the prince believed him.
So while Belshazzar and his nobles feasted Sheshbazzar
was seeking the Wine Quay, where the palace wine bins were
located. After crossing the river by means of a boat, the
prince turned down a narrow lane that skirted the palace mound
and led down to the quays beneath it where the palace supplies
were received. First he passed the Meat Quay and then the
Grain Quay. Next came the one he sought. He could not miss
it, for a small lamp burned over the door leading into the wine
vaults. He stepped through the low doorway and stopped a
moment to listen before proceeding farther. He was in a long
vaulted passage that led directly into the wine chambers hol-
lowed out in the very heart of the huge mound upon whose sur-
face the palace was built.
The first feeling of doubt came over him. If he had an
enemy who wished him ill now was that enemy's opportunity.
Here a quick Aash of a knife, a groan, the dragging of a body
over the pavement, a splash and all would be over with none
to bear witness. He waited before venturing into the long
passage, thinking the servant would come to the entrance. At
length hearing nothing he decided to run what risk there
might be and proceeded along the passage to the vaults where
he knew the man would be at work.
He advanced cautiously, keeping close to one of the walls and
moving in a half-sideways manner that he might look in both
directions. He was surprised at himself. Usually he was a
fearless man but this night he seemed to have lost confidence.
Every corner held an assassin, every shadow seemed a crouch-
ing figure, but still he kept on, determined to risk everything
that he might obtain news of Orma. The servant who was to


THE WORK OF A TRAITOR
337
give that information he had never seen until that morning but
still he had confidence in him. At each turn in the passage he
stopped and listened. All was quiet save for the faint ripple
of the river. He suddenly thought this quietness to be strange.
If a man was working yonder amid the wine sacks why did he
make no noise ?
The prince stopped as this thought came to him. His mind
dwelt upon the banquets he had attended in the palace and he
strove to remember the mode of handling wine upon those occa-
sions. Suddenly his mind reverted to Belshazzar's coronation
banquet and an incident connected with it. He now remem-
bered clearly that when he was called away from the banquet
by the queen's message the servant conducted him through a
serving room, and he remembered that room to have been
filled with wine sacks which the servants were emptying into
jars and vessels. Therefore the wine was taken from the
vaults before the banquet began, probably in the daytime!
He now felt certain a trap had been laid for him and he
determined to save himself if it was not too late. He began to
retrace his steps toward the entrance. Slowly and cautiously
he felt his way along the damp walls, moving in a shuffling
manner that his footsteps would cause no sound in the echoing
passage. He was cool but no man in his position could prevent
a certain feeling of nervousness coming over him. He was in
a dark passage far away from the outside world and perhaps
surrounded by assassins whose numbers he had no means of
knowing. With his right hand he felt along the walls, in the
left he carried one unsheathed dagger and held the other in his
teeth that he might grasp it instantly should it be needed.
Thus slowly he made his way back through the passage
toward the door now becoming visible by the faint rays of
the light burning above it. Just before reaching the entrance
he stopped again to listen. All was still. Even the ripple of
the mighty waters seemed hushed. He began to hope there was
yet time for him to escape ere the assassin, if there was one,
should appear. Stop, Sheshbazzar! What hearest thou? Lis-


338
RHESA
ten! Stealthy footsteps approach! Back man for thy life!
Crouch deep in the shadow if thou desirest to behold thy friends
again!
Through the dimly lighted doorway he saw two men ap-
proach, one armed with a sword, the other with a battle-axe.
“Ha," he thought, "they honor me by sending two." .
"Is he here?" he heard one of the men ask.
"He must be. He passed around the mound nearly a half
hour ago.”
“Was he armed?"
"He was, with a sword.”
The questioner growled, “He's a dangerous man with a
sword.”
"Yea, in a fair fight he is, but this is not a fair fight.”
“Thou likest not the job?”
"Nay, nor dost thou. I've nothing against the man. He has
never injured me.”
“Then let's clear out.”
"And get our throats cut for our pains. No Pantam, it's
either he or us and I love myself the better. Then, think of
the reward!”
During this low spoken conversation they were standing just
within the doorway, but now they had gathered the resolution
for the deed and started forward. Sheshbazzar removed the
dagger from his mouth and awaited their coming. There would
be death here tonight!
In a moment they were close to him. One brushed against
him and turned quickly. There was a cry and a struggle. One
man went down but the struggle continued. It was life and
death, but it was now a fair fight, man to man, with the
chances against the prince, for Sheshbazzar, those arms that
encircle thee are the strongest in Babylon. Back and forth,
round and round they struggle, each watching a chance to
strike. First one has the advantage and then the other. The
only witness is dead, pierced to the heart by the sure thrust of
the prince's dagger, but though dead he is still a participant in


THE WORK OF A TRAITOR
339
the struggle and he it is who decides it. Sheshbazzar felt him-
self weakening and knew he must win at once if at all. He
threw his whole weight forward and then jumped quickly back-
ward, thus freeing himself from his antagonist's embrace. The
advantage was only momentary. The ruffian came for him again
in an instant, but as he stepped forward one foot caught in his
dead companion's gown and he fell to the floor. Quick as a
flash Sheshbazzar drew his sword and before the fellow could
rise, the prince was standing over him. He placed one foot
upon the prostrate man's chest and was prepared to thrust the
sword home.
“Spare me,” begged the man.
"Who are thou come here upon such an errand ?" asked the
prince.
"I am Shemakin,” he answered humbly.
"Ha, Shemakin, this is our third meeting. Once thou be-
trayed me and twice hast thou attempted my life and I know
of no reason why I should not rid the world of thee. It would
be the better by one villain less."
“For the love of Babylon spare me," begged the frightened
man.
"Why for the love of Babylon?”
“Because, sir, I can tell thee of something affecting the very
life of the city.”
"Speak at once."
“Nay, not when thy sword is so sharp against my throat."
The prince raised his sword a trifle but he remained pre-
pared to give a quick and fatal thrust.
“Now, Shemakin, speak out or I plunge this sword into thy
treacherous carcass.”
“Know then, Prince, the river gates are open tonight.”
The prince staggered backward and had the prostrate villain
been quick he could have regained his feet, but it was only
a moment until Shemakin felt the sword at his throat again.
“Tell me all,” commanded the prince.
"'I know but little, but on that little hangs the fate of the
pared ow, Shemicass...ce, the ti


340
RHESA
city. Vulmaran has opened the river gates that the Persians
may enter."
“They have no boats.”
"Nay, sir, but they have shovels and two hours with that
tool in the hands of many will open the old canal that was
dammed up when the Shebil was dug. This will throw the river
waters into the canal and they will flow down through the
Yapur Shapu (great reservoir) and the lower canal, reentering
their own bed below the city. If thou doubtest me, sir, step out-
side and look upon the river. See thou how deep the waters are.
Go, fear me no more. Thou hast spared my life and henceforth
I am thy friend.”
The repentant murderer spoke earnestly, convincing the
prince of his sincerity. The latter passed out through the door-
way to the quay and stood leaning against a buttress of the
palace mound, gazing down upon the river. The mighty
Euphrates had surely dwindled! From a swift, deep stream,
rushing onward impatient to escape from its brick prison, it
had become a sickly brook, feebly crawling upon its muddy
bottom. Already men could walk upon its bed. Shemakin
came and stood beside him.
“Shemakin, canst thou close the south gates while I go to
the north ?” asked the prince.
The man smiled at the question.
"Why,” he answered, “it would take ten men to close the
gates. Besides now that the river has been diverted they can
come in under the gates."
“Then why was it necessary for Vulmaran to open them?"
"That I know not, unless Cyrus feared the waters would
disobey his will.”
The prince turned away, sick and faint at heart. The very
ground seemed giving way beneath him. He felt himself alone
and powerless to avert the impending catastrophe. He alone
knew of the treachery and he alone must take steps to resist
the Persians. The impulse to fight them at every street corner
came to him and he turned to depart, intending to call his forces


THE WORK OF A TRAITOR
341
together. He walked rapidly across the quay and up through
the narrow lane. Before the realization of his burden and
responsibility all remembrances of Shemakin faded away. As
the prince turned into the street a group of soldiers passed him,
reeling and maudlin. His heart sank within him and again
he was on the point of giving up. He was alone, not only
against the Persians but also against the inaction and de-
bauchery of the city itself.
He hurried onward, over the drawbridge and down the op-
posite bank of the river. At the first street he turned, passing
down a lane that led to the river bank. He entered a small
doorway in the wall and stood in the shadow gazing down into
the nearly dry bed of the stream. There was no longer even a
brook, only a few scattered pools with tiny rivulets connecting
them. He glanced up at the sky. It was dark and lowering,
and scarcely a star was to be seen. Fit night for a nation's
overthrow!
As he stood leaning against the wall, he chanced to look
down again into the vacant canal where once a mighty river
flowed. He fancied he saw a shadow. A moment later he
heard a dull thud as the top of a ladder struck the wall. He
looked again more sharply than before. Even through the
gloom he could see a man climb up the ladder. Another fol-
lowed and another. One by one he saw the dim ghostly figures
rise from the blackness and gather in a knot upon the quay
below him. He stood transfixed and helpless, his very vitality
undermined by the sense of overwhelming defeat. He realized
that he was too late. Nothing that he could do would stem
the rising tide. He remained watching them as stealthily,
silently they emerged from the gloom, clambered up the lad-
ders and formed columns upon the embankment. He pressed
closer into the projecting angle and watched them spellbound.
It was uncanny, spectral, this quiet ghostly entrance of a con-
quering army. He barely realized its significance.
He could hear the steady splash, splash of many footsteps
as column after column passed him to enter the streets at points


342
RHESA
farther up the stream. He continued standing in the same
position for more than an hour. During all that time a steady
stream of eerie figures emerged, apparently from nowhere and
formed themselves into serried ranks. At last he heard a low
spoken word of command, and a crash as a street gate gave way
before the heavy ram. In another moment he heard the steady
tramp, tramp of many feet as the column nearest him got under
way. They were starting upon their career of blood, booty
and lust. The thought stirred him to action, for on the instant
came the remembrance of the banquet at the palace. Without
an instant's hesitation he ran up the quay, through the small
doorway and up the street toward the drawbridge. He hoped
to reach the palace in time to convey a warning to the guests.
CHAPTER XLII
BELSHAZZAR'S FEAST
Shortly before the hour set for the commencement of Bel-
shazzar's famous banquet the young soldier Belibus quietly en-
tered the great hall. He took up his station near the entrance
where half hidden by the huge draperies he could gaze upon
the wonderful scene before him. This was the young king's
first attempt at entertaining on his own account and he was
determined his banquet should exceed in magnificence anything
in that line his father had ever attempted. To this end the
thousand employes of the royal establishment had been labor-
ing incessantly for several days. The arts of the decorators,
the skill of the cooks, the care of the wine-tenders and the
genius of the musicians all contributed to a result at once mag-
nificent and pleasing.
All men of note in the city, whatever their politics or beliefs,
had been bidden to the feast. Priests, nobles, soldiers and the
wealthiest of the business men all had received the tiny clay


344
RHESA
camps and campaigning, he had had little opportunity for
mingling in society.
Gradually the numbers of the guests increased. A steady
stream of richly attired men poured through the great arched
entrance to the hall. At last Belshazzar left the raised dais
upon which he had been sitting and advanced to the table. His
action was a signal for the guests to seek their places. It re-
quired some moments to assign the guests to seats according to
their rank. By this assignment Belibus was placed well toward
the foot of the largest table, the one at whose head was placed
the king's richly carved chair. When all was ready Belshazzar
seated himself, a signal for the guests to do likewise. The ban-
quet was served immediately. Course followed course in rapid
succession, the viands covering the entire range of food sup-
plies obtainable, from huge joints of auroch meat to pies filled
with the tiniest of birds. Fish, meat, vegetables, fruit, all
varieties of edible things were represented and with the ma-
terial at their disposal the cooks had worked wonders.
After the remains of the last course had been removed came
the host of wine servers bearing huge vessels upon their shoul-
ders. Soon the delicious beverages were flowing down the
throats of the revelers in steady streams. There were few
abstainers among them and a few moments after the advent
of the wine servers many of those about the tables showed signs
of falling victims to the insidious alcohol. Particularly the
king showed unmistakable signs of intoxication. He was
rapidly becoming maudlin. Now was the time for singing and
dancing. As a special attraction the king's harem came in as
a body and danced before the guests, accompanying their mo-
tions with a weird chant, interspersed with lewd songs. Bel-
shazzar, leaning on the arm of a favorite, watched the scene
through the eyes of a drunkard. Suddenly he noticed the wine
servers were slow about refilling the empty goblets.
"Be faster with the wine," he cried, interrupting a Susianian
girl who was singing a low song and acting out its story as she
sang.


346
RHESA
strange apparition. The eyes of the assembled company fol-
lowed the trembling finger of the king and beheld upon the
wall the cause of his confusion. Stranger sight ne'er saw any
man.
Upon the whitened wall of the banquet chamber the fingers
of a man's hand were distinctly visible as they slowly and care-
fully traced the letters of a mysterious message in an unknown
tongue. The eyes of the thousand guests watched the ghostly
fingers as they ran across the wall tracing the mystic charac-
ters. The singers and dancers quietly left the room, awed by
the strange apparition. Even their seared consciences told
them there was here a Divine manifestation and they felt their
unfitness to behold it.
At length the eerie fingers finished their work and paused.
Belshazzar seemed to recover somewhat from his fright.
"Neboakhu," he cried, “Chief Priest of Babylon, interpret
for me the meaning of yonder message from the gods."
With a slow and measured step the old priest approached the
king. From a station at Belshazzar's left hand he stood and
gazed long at the awesome message. At length with the per-
fect acting born of long years of deception he turned to the
king and confidently interpreted the message for him.
“Thus reads yonder message, O King. The gods are pleased
with thy favor. They promise thee their blessing. They
promise to defeat the Persians and give the countries of the
world into thy hand.”
Ah, Neboakhu, deceptive till the last. Thy whole life has
been spent deluding people. By tricks and subtleties hast thou
led thousands to the worship of gods thou knewest did not
exist. Only a few moments ago when yon mysterious hand
first appeared upon the wall thou turned to thy companion and
said: “I tell thee, friend Egibi, there is something Divine in
that message. Behind that hand there is a God and I know
and thou knowest it is not the god I worship but the one thou
once worshipped and forsook.” For once thy pretended knowl-
edge avails thee not. Yonder boy king already has a grudge


348
RHESA
“Look, Queen, at yonder wall and ask no questions,” he
answered.
She looked as he indicated and saw for the first time the
strange words that glowed upon the opposite wall. She re-
garded them in silence for several moments, the eyes of the
thousand guests fastened upon her pale face. At length turn-
ing to her son, she said:
“O King, be not troubled because of yonder words. Let not
thy face be pale nor thy knees shake together. There is here
in thy kingdom a man who is filled with the spirit of the gods;
who can interpret dreams and dissolve difficulties. The great
Nebuchadnezzar made him chief of all the wisemen and magi-
cians. Send for this man Daniel, I pray thee, and bid him come
hither. He and he alone can interpret this writing for thee.”
Having thus spoken she retraced her steps to the doorway and
left the room, walking slowly and weakly, showing to the
assembled guests how disease had undermined the strength and
vitality of this wonderful woman. Messengers were at once
sent to find Daniel and after a long delay he came. The chief
of the servants at once conducted him to the throne. Bel-
shazzar addressed him.
"I have heard of thee, mighty Daniel, that thou hast the gift
of interpreting dreams and making known the mysteries that
are unknown to other men. Look thou upon yonder writing
upon the wall. The chief priest gave me a false interpreta-
tion thereof and he paid for his deception with his life. The
wise men, the astrologers of the king were summoned and they
could not read it. Now therefore behold and see if thou
canst reveal unto me the meaning of yonder words. If thou
canst interpret their meaning thou shalt be clothed in a scarlet
cloak and a golden chain shall be about thy neck. Thou shalt
be our rab mag and rank third in the kingdom.”
Daniel answered the king. “Thy gifts and promises are
not for me; give them to another, but I will read the writing
for thee and make known unto thee the interpretation thereof.
“Know, King Belshazzar, the Most High God gave unto


BELSHAZZAR'S FEAST
349
Nebuchadnezzar a mighty kingdom with all power and honor.
He gave the world and its people into his hands to rule accord-
ing to his own inclination; but when the great king was lifted
up in his pride the Lord God took away from him his throne
and his glory. He was changed into a beast of the field and
dwelt with the beasts. He ate grass like other beasts and his
body was wet with dew until he lifted up his voice and
acknowledged the Most High to be ruler over all.
“Thou hast heard all this before Belshazzar, but thou hast
hardened thy heart and defied the Lord of Heaven. Thou
hast had the vessels of the temple brought in here and thou,
with thy lords and nobles, thy wives and concubines hast drank
wine from them. Thou hast raised up thy voice in praise of
false gods; gods of metal and of stone that neither hear nor see,
defying the true God, who settest thee upon thy throne and
gave the kingdom into thy hand.
"The words written upon the wall are these, Mene, Mene,
Tekel, Upharsin and this is the interpretation thereof: Mene,
God has reckoned thy kingdom and finished it; Tekel, thou art
weighed in the balance and found wanting; Phares, God will
break thy kingdom in pieces and give it unto the Medes and
Persians.”
A deep hush fell upon the assembly when Daniel began to
speak. The revelers were sobered by the scene; the sober were
pale with fear. As the mighty prophet denounced their king
and his crimes against the Lord each took the words unto him-
self and when he foretold their city's doom they believed him.
It was some moments after Daniel finished before Belshazzar
found words to answer him and when he did speak his words
little showed the feeling engendered within him by the proph-
et's speech.
“Thy words bring sadness to my heart, mighty Daniel,” he
said, “but I shall keep my word which I spake unto thee.
Bring hither a scarlet garment and a golden chain.”
Servants soon brought the articles and put them upon Dan-
iel. Belshazzar then arose and addressed his guests.


THE MORNING AFTER
351
“'Tis not too vile for mine,” screamed a voice near at hand.
There was a flash in the air, a cry and Belshazzar lay in his
own blood upon the steps of his throne.
“Nabonidos, I am avenged,” cried the voice and Vulmaran
fell back into the arms of the aroused nobles, a hopeless maniac.
“Sirs,” cried a voice, loud and stern, "ye are my prisoners.”
All turned toward the entrance from whence came the
voice. Just inside the curtains stood Gobryas, the general of
Cyrus. Beside him stood Heber and behind Heber was a
column of soldiers.
Thus passed away the great empire of Babylon after a life
of only eighty-seven years. Thus the achievements of Nabopo-
lassar and Nebuchadnezzar were lost through the inaction and
debauchery of their successors. Thus fell the Semitic race and
thus rose the Aryan. The Almighty had made another move
upon the Divine chess-board.
CHAPTER XLIII
THE MORNING AFTER
inding the stricto to restrain their tot of Babylon, and
The morning's sun dawned upon a stricken city; a city of
corpses; of outraged womanhood; of devastated homes. Mur-
der, rape and arson, the dread triumvirate of conquest had held
full sway over the once proud mistress of the East. Notwith-
standing the strict orders issued by King Cyrus, his officers had
found it impossible to restrain their rough men who for years
had looked eagerly forward to the loot of Babylon, and when
their prey was actually within their grasp, no orders could pre-
vent their securing all the booty obtainable. Of the three
afflictions, fire had done the least harm, not due to the lack
of its employment but to Babylon's being entirely a brick city.
In the flat treeless country of the lower Euphrates wood was
the most expensive and least used building material. To this
fact alone was due the city's preservation from fire.
ore-


352
RHESA
Trustworthy troops had been placed about the palace, the
temple, the gardens and other public edifices. Cyrus hoped to
retain Babylon in all its magnificence and therefore took these
steps to prevent its destruction. In accordance with his humane
policy all the guests at Belshazzar's feast escaped with their
lives and liberty. Early in the morning, after the terrible hours
of the night were over, and the debauched soldiers had sought
quarters for themselves or been rounded up by their officers,
Gobryas opened wide the palace gates and sent forth the nobles
to their respective homes. Alas, such homes as many of them
found. Wives and daughters murdered or outraged, in many
cases both, the beautiful tapestries torn from their places and
carried away, the furnitures broken, the servants filed.
Sheshbazzar had been obliged to spend the night at the
palace with the nobles. Though the young Persian had been
both courteous and gentle, he was yet firm, and not one whom
he found in the banquet hall had been allowed to leave the
building until daylight. The bodies of Neboakhu and Bel-
shazzar had been removed to an adjoining room where slaves
had prepared them for burial. Thus the murderer and his
victim departed life in the same hour. Vulmaran had been
taken into custody to restrain him from further violence. The
once active mind was shattered. No longer would the once
powerful rab mag rule kings or carry on conspiracies. To
languish and pine in a mad cell, to rave and cry of his royal
ambitions, was the fate of the wily noble. Sheshbazzar experi-
enced a pang at heart upon beholding him led away to his cell,
for notwithstanding the injuries he had received at the man's
hands he could not forget whose father the maniac was.
As soon as the gates were opened in the morning, Sheshbazzar
left the palace. He was sorrowful, mourning for the dear old
man who had been to him the only father he had ever known.
He went at once to his old home behind the temple. The
ravages of the conquerors had not reached that part of the city
and he found the house just as it was when its occupant left
to attend Belshazzar's feast. The prince bade the servants make


THE MORNING AFTER
353
ready to receive the body of their master. Then he ordered his
chariot and sat down in the dead priest's library to await its
coming. Abstractedly he picked up a large clay tablet that lay
upon the table and began to read the characters engraved upon
it. To his surprise he found it directed to himself. Glancing
across it he found it to be of some length and knowing he had
but a few moments to wait, he laid it back upon the table,
resolving to read it later when time was not so pressing.
A moment later a servant announced the presence of his
chariot and he at once left the house. At the Hanging Gardens
the chariot stopped and the prince alighted. He hurried up the
several flights of stairs to the summit. He boldly entered the
villa and sought out Maraida. He no longer had enemies to
fear and therefore went upon his present business boldly. After
much argument he prevailed upon the woman to accompany
him. It was not until he told of Orma's second imprisonment
and his desire to have her assist in rescuing the girl, that
Maraida consented to leave. He also narrated to her the occur-
rence of the previous night. In her secluded position only the
barest rumors of the momentous happenings reached her. The
unfortunate woman's heart leaped as he progressed with the
narrative and she slowly realized that her life of slavery was
at an end. For the first time in over twenty years she was her
own mistress. The villa upon the Hanging Gardens was not
the main harem but only the residence of a few favorites and
therefore Maraida was not among those whom Belshazzar had
introduced at his banquet.
Once they reached the palace, the rescue of Orma was merely
the work of moments, moments required for inquiry, for once
the cell was located there were none to prevent their leading
her forth. A servant was found who knew of her prison and
encouraged by a golden brooch given him by the prince, he led
the way to the cell. The prince opened the door and bade
Maraida enter. Orma started toward them but ere her steps
placed her near them, she tottered and had not the prince
sprang forward to catch her, she would have fallen. She lay
introducedhe reached the moments


THE MORNING AFTER
355
as Orma and Maraida left the room to obtain some food,
Nehum and Heber turned to him.
"Prince!" exclaimed the old man, "again do I owe thee my
heartfelt gratitude. Again am I indebted to thee for restor-
ing my daughter unto me. I would that I could reward thee
according to thy desires but thou knowest my objection. How-
ever, I am deeply grateful and nothing but my one objection
prevents me welcoming thee into my family as an honored
son."
whim, I regret giving is this matter"
how near Welled from vives me sortehine to thecisar Bel even
down his cl
“For thy good wishes I thank thee,” replied Sheshbazzar, a
marked tone of displeasure in his voice. The subject was a
distasteful one and Nehum's constant recurrence to it aggra-
vated him. Nehum noticed the constraint he showed and hast-
ened to speak again.
“Thou art displeased with what thou termest an old man's
whim, I regret giving thee offence, but thou canst not realize
how near to my heart is this matter." He was so earnest that
the tears welled from his eyes and flowed down his cheeks.
“Good Nehum, it gives me sorrow to cause thee pain but
my religion is as sacred to me as is thine to thee. If thou wert
in my place thou wouldst not give up Jehovah for Bel even to
win the sweetest woman in the world,” replied the prince.
"Thou art right, Prince," answered the old man. “Even in
my sorrow that so noble a man should choose to remain an
idolater, I can but respect thee for thy consistency. Far better
is it to be true in thy worship of a false god than a hypocrite
in worshipping the true One."
The prince bowed slightly in recognition of the genuine com-
pliment contained in the old man's speech.
"One thing would I ask thee,” he said a moment later.
“Dost thou still forbid my seeing thy daughter?”
“Ah, that is a difficult question. My natural respect for
thee and my gratitude for thy many services to us commend
me to make thee welcome here at all times, but on the other
hand, if my daughter and thee are not to wed 'twere better thou
didst not meet."


356
RHESA
He was silent for several moments apparently in deep
thought. At length he spoke.
“I cannot find the words to forbid thee visiting here and
meeting my daughter. Therefore, I bid thee come and I shall
pray for thee yet more earnestly."
The prince smiled at the idea of the old man praying for
him, but thanked him heartily for his permission to visit Orma.
After a few words with Heber concerning the presence of the
Persians he departed.
From the residence of Nehum he was driven directly to the
temple. This question of religion troubled him far more than
he would admit even to himself. Doubts as to the genuineness
of his gods continually assailed him, but he determinedly put
them aside. Never had he been a religious man in the accepted
sense of the term. His life had been too full of action to allow
of his hanging about the temple or even meditating upon matters
religious, although his early years had been spent under Ne-
boakhu's tuition. The old priest, however, had seldom taught
him on religious subjects, trusting the young man to follow
blindly in the faith of his people. Since meeting Orma the
prince had studied and meditated upon the subject more than
during his entire previous life. The complete change in Iddin's
life had been a revelation unto him and from that life dated
the first of his doubts concerning the divinity of Bel and his
associates.
Upon arriving at the temple he made the weary ascent of
its seven stages and entered the golden roofed shrine on its
summit. His heart was full and like many another in his hour
of troubles he turned to his sanctuary. Prostrating himself be-
fore the great golden image of Bel he gave way completely to
the grief and despair that filled him, feelings he had hitherto
restrained.
"Oh my lord Bel,” he cried, passionately holding out his
arms in supplication, "take me to thyself. This world contains
nothing more to live for. My cause is forever lost, my coun-
try is in the hands of a foreigner, my good old father, thy ser-


358
RHESA
“In that ye err," answered the prince, "I believe in them
with all—" He did not finish. Truthfulness was one of his
chief virtues and he could not truthfully say he believed in
these gods with all his heart.
"Prince," said King Cyrus, “I am a man who gives little
heed to matters religious. Cyrus is the god I worship and in
truth he has been good to me. Of one thing I now feel cer-
tain. There is a Supreme Being who rules this world and one
alone. Various peoples have dim perceptions of him, but it is
the Hebrews, these people now captive in this land, who have
the clearest view, a view given them by the greatest prophets
our world has known. Dost thou know, Sheshbazzar, one of
those prophets foretells my life and even names me Cyrus? *
I once told thee I felt impelled to take this country and add it
to my empire. More than this, I now tell thee I have had
orders from the Great God himself, telling me he would give
the city into my hands without a blow being struck and thou
seest it has been so. He also commanded me to return the
captive Jews to their own land.”
The great king was silent for some moments. His head was
bowed and he stroked his beard thoughtfully. When at last
he spoke it was with the manner of a man who has decided the
question troubling him.
"Prince Sheshbazzar, since taking this city my mind has
dwelt continually upon thee and of my duty concerning thee.
The only regret I have at overthrowing this kingdom is the
wrong done thee thereby. As I once told thee, were it not
for my firm belief in Divine commands I would have with-
drawn and left thee thy throne. I even offered thee that throne
but under such conditions I honored thee for refusing my offer.
This day would I appoint thee Governor of Babylonia, but I
know full well thy pride would prevent thy accepting it. A
moment since, however, a thought came to me and I hasten
to place it before thee.
“It is my intention to return the Jews to their own land. I
* Isaiah 44:28—45:1-4.


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RHESA
merly called, Napre complied with.
by him is to be than
little dreaming how soon those orders would be carried out.
Therefore am I here to talk the matter over with thee.
"In the first place he orders that his remains be buried in
the tomb he has prepared beneath the temple.
"Second: He orders that all moneys of which he is pos-
sessed be given unto thee, Sheshbazzar, or as thou wert for-
merly called, Nabomuran, provided certain conditions to be
named hereafter are complied with.
“Third: A certain sum mentioned by him is to be thine
in case thou refusest to accept the main fortune upon his con-
ditions. In case of such refusal all save the above sum is to
be divided among the priesthood.
“Fourth: This house is the property of the temple and must
be vacated at his death. He therefore gives to thee as a resi-
dence the palace of Vulmaran.”
“The palace of Vulmaran?" exclaimed the prince.
"That edifice is the property of Neboakhu. In order to pay
for his luxurious mode of living the former rab mag was
forced to pledge his estates and to prevent their being sold his
brother bought them.”
“His brother?"
"Neboakhu and Vulmaran had the same father though dif-
ferent mothers. I believe I have given thee an epitome of his
bequests.”
“There were conditions,” the prince reminded him.
“Ah yes. The conditions upon which the entire property
is to be thine are peculiar, coming as they do from the Chief
Priest of Bel. He requires thee to forsake thy present religion
and adopt that of the Jews. He obliges thee to devote one-half
of the fortune to the Jewish nation to be used in rebuilding
their city and temple and lastly he requires thee to make thy
home in Jerusalem.”
The prince sat looking earnestly into the face of the old
banker. That these strange orders came from the deceased
priest he could scarcely believe. They were at utter variance
with every spoken word of his foster-father.


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RHESA
gave way to a bitter grief, a grief that sprang from many
causes.
There was his disappointed ambition, sorrow over his coun-
try's downfall, the death and what seemed worse, the dishonesty
of Neboakhu and now his religious doubts. All combined to
cast over his naturally buoyant nature a heavy pall of grief and
sorrow, a pall so deep and black as to completely overshadow
all other thoughts and emotions. He felt keenly the respon-
sibility he had accepted by turning away from the people of
his loved one the fortune that meant to them a national existence
and a national worship. As he thought of the thousands who
would benefit by the sale of his conscience the temptation to call
back his words became almost irresistible. Condemn not this
strong man for his adherence to gods and to a religion we know
to be false. Remember to him those gods were omnipotent,
that religion the one he had been born and bred in.
The tears which flowed freely from his eyes and trickled down
upon his clasped hands seemed to calm him somewhat. At length
they ceased and he raised his head. He sat silently thoughtful,
looking into space, unconscious of his surroundings, unheedful
of the passing time. Within his mind a fierce, struggle was
taking place, the fiercest struggle that ever takes place within a
man. The whole theology of Babylon was arrayed within his
mind against one bare fact; Neboakhu, chief priest though he
was, had desired the young man he loved to become a Jew!
If any man of the time had a knowledge of the Babylonian re-
ligion, had an acquaintance with the Babylonian pantheon that
man was Neboakhu. If then he wished his foster-son to for-
sake that religion did it mean that the old man himself dis-
believed in the gods he served ?
Suddenly there Aashed into the young man's mind the re-
membrance of the tablet he had found in the morning. He
looked for it upon the table and found it close at hand.
He left the room and called to a servant to bring a light.
When the lamp was brought he picked up the tablet and


JEHOVAH
365
lay back in his chair to read it. The words formed a message
from the dead.
To my beloved son, Sheshbazzar:
An old man, drawing near to the end of life, feels called
upon to leave a warning to a young one just entering upon
his useful years.
As I have long realized thou hast no chance of becoming
king. We have sinned far too deeply against the All Ruling
One for Him to save us at this late day. Our nation is
doomed to pass away and be swallowed up in the empire of
the Persian. This I have long seen coming as I have studied
the destinies of the world as outlined in the stars; but out of
the empire of the Persian I can see a star appear that ever
grows in size and brilliancy until its rays shine round the
world illuminating all peoples. Whenever I look I can see
this star but I cannot explain its significance. Only this: It
always stands over the land of Judea and from this point as
a center its effulgent light spreads out over all humanity.
Out of Judea then, my son, will come one who shall rule
the world. I have read the Jewish writings and they point
to the coming of a mighty ruler who shall conquer the world.
Why my son, has this now dispersed nation been selected to
furnish the coming leader? There can be but one explanation.
It is because they and they alone worship the True God; be-
cause of all peoples on earth they alone have read aright
the teachings of the world. Why this people, little versed
in science or art, without the least instinct of empire, should
have acquired so great and true a knowledge of the Deity I
cannot say, unless God chose to reveal himself directly unto
them.
I feel my son, that my life has not been wasted if my
years of thought and study have enabled me to discover but
this one truth. I am sure of my discovery. My very soul tells
me I am right in my belief. Therefore, my son, fear not to
follow in this path. Forsake then the false gods of inanimate
stone and metal and cleave only unto the one God, Jehovah of
the Hebrews.
In my library thou wilt find copies of the Jewish writings.
It is because peoples on eart Why this


366
RHESA
them and pondhout a true concept lost upon the de
Read them and ponder over their teachings. In them is life
and happiness. Without a true conception of God a man is
like a ship without a helm or a traveler lost upon the desert.
The writing broke short off here as if the old priest had been
called away from his task and had never returned to it. Thou
hast written enough, Neboakhu. Thy words carry conviction
to a doubting heart.
Sheshbazzar replaced the tablet upon the table and arose
to pace the room. His mind was filled with conflicting
emotions. The life of Iddin and the change in it, the words
of Cyrus, the sorrow of Egibi over his lost religion and now
the sober argument of Neboakhu all contributed to this result.
"O God help me!” he cried.
Suddenly as he was walking up and down the room a great
wave of happiness filled his soul and into his face there came
an expression of unearthly joy, for a Father's love had shed
itself over him and claimed him as His child. The joy that
filled his heart, welled up into his voice and he cried out:
“I believe! I believe! Lord God help me!"
Then as if acting under a Divine inspiration he knelt down
to pray. At that moment his steps had placed him before
an open window and he knelt where he stood. Thou knowest
it not, Sheshbazzar, but the Unseen Power hath led thy foot-
steps hither and placed thee in due position to pray. Thy
window is open toward Jerusalem!
His prayer was as the bathing of Naaman. As the waters
of Jordan forever removed from the Syrian chieftain all traces
of his leprosy, so the prayer of Sheshbazzar, bathing him in
the Spirit of God, removed all his old idolatry, his selfish-
ness, his pride. Gone forever were Bel, Merodach and their
train and in their place one God ruled alone. He arose
from his knees a new man, his heart filled with an everlasting
peace, his soul uplifted and purified.
At that moment a servant entered the room and called
him. Without the door stood a messenger from the palace.


THE DEATH OF NITOCRIS
367
"The Queen is dying and bids thee come to her at once,"
said the man.
The sad announcement struck deep into the prince's soul,
coming as it did so soon after his change of heart. He pre-
pared to accompany the man at once.
CHAPTER XLV
THE DEATH OF NITOCRIS
With a sad heart Prince Sheshbazzar entered the death
chamber of Babylon's queen. He secretly upbraided himself
for not having visited her before, but as he reviewed the events
of the past few days he was comforted by realizing how impos-
sible it had been for him to find the necessary time, and in addi-
tion he had not known of her serious illness. Aside from a
certain indefinable lassitude she had appeared in perfect health
upon the occasion of the family breakfast the morning he gal-
loped into Babylon the bearer of ill tidings. Still, he now
remembered she had informed him more than a year ago of the
disease she knew to be undermining her strength. Notwith-
standing the way in which events had crowded themselves upon
him since his return from the desert, he asked himself if, by a
trifle extra exertion, he could not have made himself more of
a comfort to his unhappy queen-mother.
He found the chamber quiet, a dim light barely illuminating
the objects in the room sufficiently to prevent the newcomer,
fresh from the glare of the palace halls, from stumbling
over them. In a farther corner of the spacious apartment
stood a low couch with snowy covers and draperies. About
the couch knelt three persons whom the prince recognized as
Halista, Belibus and King Cyrus. With a pang he gazed
upon the pale face on the pillow, more beautiful even in its
lack of color than when filled with the ruddy glow of health.
All the light of intense emotions that usually illumined it


THE DEATH OF NITOCRIS
369
over to face him. Halista, noticing the anguish even this slight
movement caused her mother, arose and assisted her. The hand
which Sheshbazzar had taken when he first knelt at the bedside
* had been snatched away during one of the paroxysms. Now
the queen returned it and the young man held it lovingly in
his, his heart aching as he noticed how thin and white it was
and how the blue veins stood up. She was evidently about
to speak to him but she hesitated. Another terrible season
of suffering came over her, which on departing left her still
weaker. The sad watchers saw clearly that this intense suffer-
ing could not last much longer ; that under the awful strain the
weary heart would soon cease its struggle.
As soon as she could articulate, Nitocris murmured: “Send
** for Daniel.”
Belibus arose, realizing himself to be the only one present
who could leave at such a moment. Without the door he
found a servant whom he dispatched for the Hebrew prophet.
When he again knelt beside his loved one, whom the dying
queen had bequeathed to him shortly before the entrance of
Cyrus, the queen was speaking to Sheshbazzar.
“I had much to say to thee,” she said, her voice so low the
young man was obliged to lay his head beside hers in order
* to catch the words. “I feared I should be taken away before
- the messenger could bring thee so I told my story to King
Cyrus. He heard me through and has promised to set right
a terrible wrong, a wrong that at this moment weighs upon
my soul, though I am not to blame for its existence. I only
knew of it three days ago. With my dying breath I swear
I knew nothing of the grievous error that has been made. Per-
haps 'tis best this tale should be told thee by other lips than
?' mine. While I cannot blame myself for the wrong that
has been done I consider it my duty to set matters aright.
When thou hearest the message I have left I beg thee blame
me not. With my dying breath I pray this mistake may yet
bring thee good.”
Another battle with pain followed, a battle won by the
then. He heard merong that at ek


RHESA
373
one dead. Halista again administered the wine and again
the strong stimulant brought the dying woman back to life.
"Tell me more, Daniel,” were her first words.
The old man hesitated a moment. Then an expression of
unearthly joy came into his face.
“I see! I see!” he cried. “The heavens are opened and I
see the Holy One awaiting, his arms outstretched. Oh Lord,
receive this soul.”
There was a cry from the couch,
“Beautiful! Beautiful!"
There was a gurgle as of a person drowning and then all was
still. The foremost woman of the world was dead.
With tears streaming from her eyes Halista arose. Advanc-
ing to the head of the couch, she bent over and kissed the high
white forehead of her noble mother. Then she laid hold of
the snowy coverlet and gently drew it up until all that re-
mained of the mighty queen was hidden from view.
Daniel arose, his face radiant.
"Who can say this Jehovah of mine is for Jews alone?” he
cried.
"I cannot," answered Sheshbazzar, "for I already believe
Him to be my God as well as thine. Oh mighty Daniel,
help me become His child.”
"The Lord be praised,” said Daniel, laying his hand affec-
tionately upon the young man's shoulder.
“Ah, Prince," he added, "the Almighty has a work for
thee to do."
CHAPTER XLVI
RHESA
The new day was breaking as Sheshbazzar left the palace and
started for his home. His mood was a paradox; sorrow over the
queen's death, joy over the new-found hope that filled his soul.
The scene he had just witnessed was printed indelibly upon


374
RHESA
his mind, never to be forgotten as long as he lived. From
the depths of his soul he believed Nitocris to have passed
from this world into a higher and better one. He could but
feel that she was better off for the change. He considered
her life of grief and sorrow and then thought of the beauty
of life in a world where they were unknown. In thinking of
her new life beyond, the keen edge of his grief was dulled. A
smile came into his face as he thought of the queen in the new
world and the desire of meeting her in the hereafter took
possession of him.
He sought his couch to obtain a brief rest, leaving word
with the servants to call him in time to be at the palace
as King Cyrus had requested. Notwithstanding the orders
he had given he was late when he appeared at the palace. He
entered the library, which was still used as a reception room.
A considerable company was grouped about the dais listening
to the words King Cyrus was speaking. As the prince entered
the room the conqueror was announcing the surrender of King
Nabonidos at Borsippa, thus completing the subjugation of the
empire. From this announcement he passed directly to the
business for which he had called the meeting.
“Men of Judah," he began, "finding myself sole ruler of
this land, it becomes my duty to undo such acts of my predeces-
sors as were wrong or oppressive. In acordance with that duty
and acting under Divine command one of my first acts shall be
the restoration of the Jewish people to their own land. To this
end I have called thee together to take counsel with thee, but
before we proceed to make plans for the future I wish to ask:
Is there living an hereditary prince, one who is by birth en-
titled to rule over thee?”.
There was silence for some moments, the Jews looking at one
another as if wondering whose place it was to speak. At length
Nehum stepped forward as became his rank and age. Cyrus
recognized the old man and called him by name. To his
astonishment Nehum beheld Rastagus of the desert.


376
RHESA
will lead thee back to thine own land and direct the rebuilding
of thy cities."
"Listen,” he continued. “Last night there died in this palace
a wonderful woman, Nitocris, Queen of Babylon. While she
was yet in the possession of her faculties she sent for me and
as I knelt beside her couch, she told me of this young man's
birth and of his later life. Until within three days of her
death she supposed him to be her own son, Prince Sheshbazzar.
She told me where I could find the only witness who could
prove her tale. This witness I have found and I now pro-
pose to introduce her to this company."
“Call the woman,” he said to a soldier.
A moment later the man returned accompanied by Maraida,
former concubine of Nabonidos. She mounted the platform
modestly and standing by the side of King Cyrus she told her
story in a half shy but at the same time wholly convincing
manner.
“My name is Maraida and I am a daughter of Judah," she
began. "Since my earliest recollection I have lived in the
king's palace or in his villa. For three years I was servant
to Queen Nitocris. I nursed her when the young prince was
born and I cared for the child until his father's murder threw
the palace into turmoil.
"Three weeks after the young prince was born a woman of
my own race, an inmate of the palace, also gave birth to a
son. She did not recover from her confinement but re-
mained a bed-ridden helpless sufferer from that day. Her
babe was also given into my keeping and for convenience's
sake and with the queen's consent the little Jewish babe be:
came an inmate of the royal nursery. Never were two children
more alike. In size and form and feature they so nearly re-
sembled each other as to be taken for twins. I could hardly
tell them apart myself. Only upon the right hip of the Jewish
child was a blood-red birthmark in the form of a human hand.
Often when they were both undressed I looked for the birth-
mark before I could tell upon which child to put the fine clothes


RHESA
377
murdehich opend entered say,
ning I was sitting, heard voices withou I heard him sayo
and upon which the poor ones. For nearly two years I cared for
my charges and I learned to love them as though they were my
own. Particularly did I become attached to the son of my race
and gradually I came to regard him as my own. His mother
I saw but seldom and even when I saw her she asked not
after the child. Her illness seemed to have affected her
mind and I sometimes thought she had forgotten his existence.
"I will pass on to the momentous night that affects my pres-
ent subject, the night of the king's murder. Upon that eventful
evening I was sitting in the nursery which opened out of the
queen's apartment. I heard voices without and entered the
queen's chamber. An old priest was there. I heard him say,
'they are murdering the king.' A moment later the king came
running, followed closely by the assassins. In they came, bent
on their murderous errand. The queen stood as a statue, her
infant son pressed to her bosom. Quick as a flash a thought
came to me and I acted upon it instantly without stopping to
question its wisdom. I ran into the nursery, picked up the
Jewish babe and returned to the queen's chamber. At the
moment I entered the king fell pierced by a dozen swords.
I ran up to the old priest who stood beside the queen.
“ 'Here father, quick,' I cried, 'change the infants.'
"He caught the idea at once and on the instant the babes were
changed. I hurried away and the old man followed me, bearing
the rescued prince in his arms. In the excitement we escaped
unnoticed. Hardly had I left the room when the murderers
tore the babe from the queen's breast and ended its tiny life.
“After all was quiet again I reentered the queen's chamber.
I was sad. I realized that to save the prince of my people's
enemies I had sacrificed one of my own race. The realization
appalled me. I hoped to see the babe again but he had already
been taken away and until within a few days I have never seen
him. The murdered child lay upon its father's body, their
blood mingled in a ghastly pool. I picked it up tenderly,
horrible object though it was and hastened to leave the room.
I procured a dish of water and laying out a set of the prince's


RHESA
379
"Has anyone a question to ask of our witness?” asked King
Cyrus.
Nehum during this recital stood in the front rank of his
brethren close to the platform. He had listened attentively to
every word. His heart leaped as he realized what this dis-
covery meant to his own household. Now at the king's in-
vitation he had a question to ask of Maraida.
“To how many persons has this secret been known?” he
asked.
“I dared not tell the queen of my error,” she answered,
"and so for many years the secret was my own. A year
ago I revealed it unto Neboakhu the chief priest and a few
days since I told it unto thy daughter, but forbade her re-
peating it. When from her I learned the babe was the only
heir of King David I sought out Queen Nitocris and told her
all."
“Had the queen never suspected it?"
"She had not. From the night of her husband's murder until
the child had grown to manhood she saw him little. Even if the
children had not so closely resembled each other she could not
have discovered my mistake, for after the murder the child
was taken away from her.”
Cyrus waited a moment for other questions, but no more
were put to her.
“Come Prince, we must borrow thy hip,” he said.
The young man arose to exhibit the proof of his birth.
Maraida turned to go but again Cyrus restrained her.
“We must have thee here to identify the mark,” he said.
Zerubbabel opened his gown and pushed back his inner gar-
ment sufficient to show his hip. There, glowing upon it, was
the mark of his birth, a blood-red human hand.
Maraida bowed to show her identification and instantly left
the room.
Joshua, the young high priest, now sought attention and told
them of his interview with the wife of Shealtiel. She, he said,


380
RHESA
had dwelt emphatically upon the birthmark and had told him
of the pre-natal influence which caused it.
"We are satisfied," called several of the Jews as their high
priest finished speaking.
Zerubbabel resumed his seat and Cyrus took his place be-
side him upon the throne formerly occupied by Nabonidos.
For upwards of two hours longer the conference lasted. They
discussed the return of the Jews in a general way. All present
realized the impossibility of making any definite plans thus
early. There were important matters before them demand-
ing months for settlement. The task of enrolling the scat-
tered remnants of King David's once proud nation alone was
one requiring much time and labor. Shortly before noon the
meeting was declared over.
As Zerubbabel stepped down from the platform the first
to greet him was Nehum. After embracing him the old
man said:
“My Prince, joyful as I am to find in thy person the son of
David, the tidings Daniel gave me this morning cause me
greater joy."
The prince smiled but made no reply.
“Present me, good Nehum,” said a voice near at hand.
A moment later Zerubbabel, the prince, and Joshua, the high
priest of the Restoration, stood with clasped hands. The greet-
ings of the noble young priest were none the less cordial be-
cause the man before him was the accepted lover of the
woman he himself had hoped to win.
“Thou wilt dine with me today?" said Nehum, after the
Jews had one by one greeted their prince.
“I shall be glad to accept thy invitation," was the reply.
"We seek thy company to grace our table,” said King Cyrus,
coming up at this moment.
"I thank thee King, but I have already promised to ac-
company worthy Nehum to his home," replied the prince.
"Ah,” said the conqueror smiling, “I would I had a black-