not, as usual, entirely false. A trireme from Kolophon, namely, has
brought the news that your powerful brother, noble Bartja, is preparing
to make war with Amasis."

.........................

On the evening of the same day, Bartja and Sappho saw each other again.
In that first hour surprise and joy together made Sappho's happiness too
great for words. When they were once more seated in the acanthus-grove
whose blossoming branches had so often seen and sheltered their young
love, she embraced him tenderly, but for a long time they did not speak
one word. They saw neither moon nor stars moving silently above them, in
the warm summer night; they did not even hear the nightingales who were
still repeating their favorite, flute-like, Itys-call to one another; nor
did they feel the dew which fell as heavily on their fair heads as on the
flowers in the grass around them.

At last Bartja, taking both Sappho's hands in his own, looked long and
silently into her face, as if to stamp her likeness for ever on his
memory. When he spoke at last, she cast down her eyes, for he said:
"In my dreams, Sappho, you have always been the most lovely creature that
Auramazda ever created, but now I see you again, you are more lovely even
than my dreams."

And when a bright, happy glance from her had thanked him for these words,
he drew her closer to him, asking: "Did you often think of me?"

"I thought only of you."

"And did you hope to see me soon?"