The stranger said this in bad Persian, but there lay so much dignity and confidence in his tone, and his gifts were on such a large scale, that the cringing and creeping servant of despotism felt sure he must be sitting opposite to a prince, crossed his arms reverentially, and, excusing himself from his many pressing affairs, began to relate rapidly. He had been on duty in the great hall during the examination of the prisoners the night before, and could therefore tell all that had happened with tolerable accuracy. The Greek followed his tale eagerly, with many an incredulous shake of his handsome head, however, when the daughter of Amasis and the son of Cyrus were spoken of as having been disloyal and false, that sentence of death had been pronounced, especially on Croesus, distressed him visibly, but the sadness soon vanished from his quickly-changing features, and gave place to thought; this in its turn was quickly followed by a joyful look, which could only betoken that the thinker had arrived at a satisfactory result. His dignified gravity vanished in a moment; he laughed aloud, struck his forehead merrily, seized the hand of the astonished captain, and said: “Should you be glad, if Bartja could be saved?” “More than I can say.” “Very well, then I will vouch for it, that you shall receive at least two talents, if you can procure me an interview with the king before the first execution has taken place.” “How can you ask such a thing of me, a poor captain?...” “Yes, you must, you must!” “I cannot.” “I know well that it is very difficult, almost impossible, for a stranger to obtain an audience of your king; but my errand brooks no delay, for I can prove that Bartja and his friends are not guilty. Do you hear? I can prove it. Do you think now, you can procure me admittance?” “How is it possible?” “Don’t ask, but act. Didn’t you say Darius was one of the condemned?” “Yes.” “I have heard, that his father is a man of very high rank.” “He is the first in the kingdom, after the sons of Cyrus.” “Then take me to him at once. He will welcome me when he hears I am able to save his son.” “Stranger, you are a wonderful being. You speak with so much confidence that...” “That you feel you may believe me. Make haste then, and call some of your men to make way for us, and escort us to the palace.” There is nothing, except a doubt, which runs more quickly from mind to mind, than a hope that some cherished wish may be fulfilled, especially when this hope has been suggested to us by some one we can trust. The officer believed this strange traveller, jumped out of the carriage, flourishing his scourge and calling to his men: “This nobleman has come on purpose to prove Bartja’s innocence, and must be taken to the king at once. Follow me, my friends, and make way for him!”