The discomfited Zabastes retired, grumbling to himself in an
undertone,--and the Laureate, whose dreamy eyes had till now
rested on Theos, his self constituted advocate, with an
appreciative and almost tender regard, once more took up his harp,
and striking a few rich, soft chords was about to sing again, when
a great noise as of clanking armor was heard outside, mingled with
a steadily increasing, sonorous hum of many voices and the
increased tramp, tramp of marching feet. The doors were flung
open,--the Herald-in-Waiting entered in hot haste and excitement,
and prostrating himself before the throne exclaimed:

"O great King, may thy name live forever! Khosrul is taken!"

Zephoranim's black brows drew together in a dark scowl and he set
his lips hard.

"So! For once thou art quick tongued in the utterance of news!" he
said half-scornfully--"Bring hither the captive,--an he chafes at
his bonds we will ourselves release him..." and he touched his
sword significantly--"to a wider freedom than is found on earth!"

A thrill, ran through the courtly throng at these words, and the
women shuddered and grew pale. Sah-luma, irritated at the sudden
interruption that had thus distracted the general attention from
his own fair and flattered self, gave an expressively petulant
glance toward Theos, who smiled back at him soothingly as one who
seeks to coax a spoilt child out of its ill-humor, and then all
eyes were turned expectantly toward the entrance of the audience-
chamber.