“No, in the name of Ahura the merciful!” Few saw him, bounding from his chariot, pluck bow and quiver from a soldier. The lion coiled his limbs for the final leap; men saw his body spring as a stone from a catapult; heard a twitter of a bow, and right at the bound the shaft entered the shoulder, cunningly sped. A roar of dying agony, the body dashed upon the pavement at the girl’s feet. No second shaft needed—a twitch, a great bestial groan. Darius had proved his title, “King of the Bow.” But Belshazzar, who had seen the shot but not the archer, blazed out in blind fury, “As Marduk rules, who shot? Impale him!” Darius stepped beside the royal chariot; his pose was very haughty. “My lord,” said he, “I give proof we Persians are fair huntsmen.” Belshazzar’s hand went to his sword-hilt, but Darius met the flame in his eyes unflinchingly. By a great effort the king controlled himself, but did not risk speech. The drivers had mastered the oxen, the lions grew still. The people were shouting in delight, “Glory to Nergal! The Persian is peer to the hero Gilgamesh!” Daniel was kissing Darius’s shoes, his voice too choked for thanks. But a young man with a forceful, frank face, a manly form, dressed like Daniel, very simply, came and kissed, not the shoes, but the dust at Darius’s feet. “For life I am your slave, O prince! You have saved me my betrothed!” Then he ran among the people to lead away the girl. Belshazzar ventured to speak. “How now, Daniel?” ignoring Darius. “By Nergal, your wench has been the death of an African lion! Why here? You keep her locked at home, safe as a gold talent. I have never seen her.” “She was with Isaiah, her betrothed. In the crowd they were swept asunder. The king saw the rest.” Belshazzar was still raging. “Yes, verily. A rare bull-lion sacrificed for a slip of a wench like her!” Then to the eunuchs: “Run, bring the lass to me. Rare treasure she must prove to make her more precious than the lion.” Darius saw a fresh cloud on the old Jew’s face. In a moment Isaiah and the maid were before the king. Very young and fragile seemed the Jewess. The blood had not returned to the smooth brown cheeks. Her black hair was scattered in little curls, for veil and fillet had been torn away. She looked about with great, scared eyes, and all could see her tremble. She started to kneel before the king, but Belshazzar, regarding her, gave a mighty laugh. “Good, by Istar! So this is your treasure, Daniel? Not the Egibi bankers possess a greater, you doubtless swear. Stand up, my maid. Bel never made those eyes to stare upon that dusty road. Closer. Look at me, and I vow I will forgive you the lion. There are more in the marshes, but only one daughter of Daniel!”