“You meet nothing? no alarm? no watchers?” asked the king in a whisper. “None, lord,” answered Darius; “we rode to the shadow of the outer wall; there was no sentry to challenge us.” “The stillness may be ominous,” remarked Cyrus, shrewdly—“a pretended carelessness to lure us under the walls, when Belshazzar can fling wide his sally-ports and dash on us with his thousands. And you did grievous wrong in perilling your lives so near.” “Am I not a Persian too, your Majesty?” answered the prince in his pride; “have I not learned to dare and to do from you and from none other?” “True,” they knew Cyrus was smiling, “but Belshazzar may nevertheless have set a trap.” “Then the Babylonians’ guile is deeper yet,” replied Darius; “you do not see, my lord, in the darkness, who it is Isaiah has mounted behind him.” “A deserter from Babylon?” “Imbi-Ilu, the exiled pontiff of Borsippa, just come from the city. Let him speak for himself.” The chariot halted, while a figure leaped to the ground from behind the Jew, and salaamed before the king. “May every god shine on your Majesty,” Imbi reported; “at no small peril your slave disguised himself as commanded and entered Babylon. He has communicated with Bilsandan the vizier, and Sirusur the _Tartan_. They accept your Majesty’s promises, and rejoice to become your servants,—the more because Avil-Marduk works hourly on Belshazzar to gain their ruin. The guards on the gates have been withdrawn by Sirusur, the rest of the garrison is nigh drunken to a man. My priests at Borsippa swear they will not fail.” “The garrison drunken? Is Belshazzar mad; does he think my power shattered so utterly?” asked Cyrus, marvelling. “Be that as it may, my king,” interposed Isaiah, “while we awaited Imbi-Ilu under the walls, we heard from within nothing else than the sound of music and of revelling. The Chaldees are not Persians. Their god is the wine-cup, if the truth be told. Jehovah has caught them in their wickedness. He has led them into the net prepared by His servants.” “So be it,” remarked Cyrus; then to the priest he hinted sternly, “Your friends will do well to keep troth. Let there be treachery in this, and I swear by your gods and by mine, I will lift your head from your shoulders!” The Babylonian was not discomposed. “And I accept the warning; if I or my priests of Nabu play false, do to me as you will. But if Babylon is taken—” “You shall not fail in your reward,” declared Cyrus, “on the word of a Persian king; I renew my promise of the high priesthood of Bel-Marduk in Avil’s stead.” “Forward then,” urged the Chaldee; “let the king possess his city.” The charioteer made the lash whistle, the car whirled forward. The shadow of the great walls was above them now; speed, not silence, demanded; the guards about the king pricked with the spur to keep beside. Darius spoke again to Cyrus:— “Lord, Imbi-Ilu tells us that at midnight Belshazzar quits his bridal feast.”