forehead with wine as she lay in her arms.

"What was it?" asked the blind Kassandane, when Nitetis had awakened to
consciousness a few moments later.

"The joy--the happiness--Tachot," faltered Nitetis. Cambyses, as well as
his sister, had sprung to the fainting girl's help. When she had
recovered consciousness, he asked her to take some wine to revive her
completely, gave her the cup with his own hand, and then went on at the
point at which he had left off in his account: "Bartja is going to your
own country, my wife--to Naukratis on the Nile--to fetch thence the
granddaughter of a certain Rhodopis, and daughter of a noble warrior, a
native of the brave town of Phocaea, as his wife."

"What was that?" cried the blind queen-mother.

"What is the matter with you?" exclaimed Atossa again, in an anxious,
almost reproachful tone.

"Nitetis!" cried Croesus admonishingly. But the warning came too late;
the cup which her royal lover had given her slipped from her hands and
fell ringing on the floor. All eyes were fixed on the king's features in
anxious suspense. He had sprung from his seat pale as death; his lips
trembled and his fist was clenched. Nitetis looked up at her lover
imploringly, but he was afraid of meeting those wonderful, fascinating
eyes, and turned his head away, saying in a hoarse voice: "Take the women
back to their apartments, Boges. I have seen enough of them--let us
begin our drinking-bout--good-night, my mother; take care how you nourish
vipers with your heart's blood. Sleep well, Egyptian, and pray to the
gods to give you a more equal power of dissembling your feelings. To-