your good swords have been rather long idle." These well-calculated
words were received with such shouts of applause, that the king turned
his horse to enquire the cause. Phanes answered quickly that the
Achaemenidae were rejoicing in the thought that a war might possibly be
near at hand.

"What war?" asked the king, with the first smile that had been seen on
his face for many days.

"We were only speaking in general of the possibility of such a thing,"
answered Phanes carelessly; then, riding up to the king's side, his voice
took an impressive tone full of feeling, and looking earnestly into his
face, he began: "It is true, my Sovereign, that I was not born in this
beautiful country as one of your subjects, nor can I boast of a long
acquaintance with the most powerful of monarchs, but yet I cannot resist
the presumptuous, perhaps criminal thought, that the gods at my birth
appointed me to be your real friend. It is not your rich gifts that have
drawn me to you. I did not need them, for I belong to the wealthier
class of my countrymen, and I have no son,--no heir,--to whom I can
bequeath my treasures. Once I had a boy--a beautiful, gentle child;
--but I was not going to speak of that,--I . . . Are you offended at
my freedom of speech, my Sovereign?"

"What is there to offend me?" answered the king, who had never been
spoken to in this manner before, and felt strongly attracted to the
original foreigner.

"Till to-day I felt that your grief was too sacred to be disturbed, but
now the time has come to rouse you from it and to make your heart glow
once more. You will have to hear what must be very painful to you."