Darius had advanced from his company, halfway across the hall, as if he alone would walk upon the swords of the Chaldees. He addressed the king. “Live forever, Lord of Babylon! Live forever. I have bayed a fairer game, this night, than an aurochs or a lion; but I have brought him to the net at last. Too noble, truly, to slay. Let him be wise; he will find my master merciful.” “Yield to Cyrus? Let the dogs eat first our bodies!” so cried Igas, and all the Babylonians yelled like answer. Darius did not retire. “We Persians honour kings, though once our foes. Crœsus the Lydian is Cyrus’s friend. Be wise,—Bel your god may not save you. Craft and strength alike have failed. Yield on fair quarter. Do not sacrifice these gallant men—” But he ended swiftly, for the king had leaped upon the dais, and his voice sounded amid the thunder. “Look! with all your eyes look, Persians! Behold the daughter of Cyrus.” Atossa had been upborne upon his strong arms and those of Khatin, and stood upon the royal couch before the gaze of all. And at sight of her a tremor thrilled through the Persians. “The princess in Belshazzar’s clutch! Woe! Ahura deliver!” groaned many a grizzled sword-hand, who had slain his man that night; but the king swept on: “I say to you, that as the first arrow flies, or sword-stroke falls, the blade enters the breast of the child of Cyrus. Get you gone, and that instantly, if you would not see her die!” They saw the steel glancing in Khatin’s hand, no idle threat. And for a moment longer, Persian and Chaldee looked on one another, while the storm screamed its wild music. But now Atossa spoke, her voice clear as Belshazzar’s:— “And I, daughter of your king, command that you hold back in nothing for my sake. For to an Aryan maid of pure heart death is no great thing, when she knows behind it speeds the vengeance.” “Not so! We may not!” moaned Persian to Persian; and Darius sprang back among his men. “Lord,” cried a captain from the rear, “the garrison is rallying. A little longer, and many companies come to Belshazzar’s aid. We may yet be undone!” Darius had flung away his target; his hands had snatched something—a quiver, a bow. He leaped before them all, while Belshazzar’s voice again was rising:— “Back, Persians; or as Bel is god of Babylon, the maid dies, and you are her murderers!” He sprang down from beside her, leaving Khatin standing. But the prince drew the shaft to the head, and sent his eye along the arrow. Did he level at Atossa’s own breast? So thought she, with all the others, and her cry rang shrilly:— “Shoot! In Ahura’s great name, shoot! Death at your hands is sweet!” They saw her close her eyes, and strong men turned away their faces. One deed to slay a peer, in heat of battle; another, to see a lover strike down his bride! But Belshazzar, looking on his foe, was startled,—_he had seen him shoot before_. “Strike!” he commanded Khatin, “swiftly!”