They tried the inner rooms. Two were fitted up with couches, one sumptuously. The hours went by. It grew dark. The trumpets sounded. Guard relieved guard. The neighing of horses was heard. Lights began to twinkle in the town and camp. Still no one came. All was silent. ‘Ye gods, we have been caught this time in a trap!’ So saying, with a short laugh he threw himself down upon a sumptuous couch and slept. In the morning he and Mantitheos were awakened by a polite chamberlain. He was followed by a guard of finely-dressed and well-armed cavalry officers. The chamberlain inclined with deep respect, and made many apologies if any inconvenience had been suffered by the distinguished strategos. ‘It grieved him to the heart to be obliged to inform the distinguished strategos that his master Tissaphernes had been obliged to set out only the day before for his capital of Sardis, there to receive a special envoy from the King of Kings, and, as his master had been unable to receive his noble guest in his castle at Magnesia, he prayed that he would honour him by a visit at his castle at Sardis; and, as an escort for the journey, a guard of horsemen were at his service, and were now, in fact, awaiting his pleasure in the court below.’ Alkibiades bowed and smiled. Neither was taken in. The one knew the whole meaning of the message, and its depth of treachery; the other was perfectly aware that it was known. They descended into the courtyard. Alkibiades was assisted to mount an Arab horse; another was provided for Mantitheos. On asking for the sailors who had come with him, he was told they had returned to Paniônion. The two travellers were preceded by twenty horsemen armed with spears. On each side of them rode an officer with drawn sword; in the rear came twenty other horsemen with spears. So they started from Magnesia. At mid-day they halted. An ample meal was served. They pursued their way, along the banks of the Hermos, to the fertile plains where the old town of Sardis stood beneath its lofty citadel. They passed the new paradeisos that Tissaphernes had lately finished. Through its wooden palings they could see its various wonders, its splendid trees, and its pavilions, and the fountains and curious waterworks and lakes which the satrap had formed from the gold-bearing Paktôlos, which ran through it. On account of its grace and beauty, as well as with a view to the pleasant hours he had hoped to spend there with his friend, Tissaphernes had named this paradise ‘Alkibiades.’