“Lord of Borsippa, Thy command is unchangeable like the firmanent. In the high heavens thy commandment is supreme!” So the chant had risen for four thousand years, each evening; so it would be repeated, unless all omens were profitless, for as many more. Dynasties might come and go,—the worship of Nabu endured forever! * * * * * Upon the housetop of one of the larger buildings, close by the gate of the wall enclosing the sacred precinct, two men in deep discussion were seated. The roof-tiles were covered with soft carpet, a yellow canopy stretched overhead, there were cushioned stools and divans—a cool and pleasant spot to lounge and rest. But the two were not lounging; their talk had lasted long. The one, Daniel, had drawn his stool close beside the couch of the other, and was speaking earnestly. “We have debated before, we debate again,—to little profit. You have been a true friend, Imbi-Ilu; the difference in our faith has never stood betwixt us. You have done what you could to abate the persecution of my unfortunate people,—in vain, but I thank you.” The high priest looked concernedly upon his friend. He was an eagle-visaged, majestic man, who bore his years lightly, and whose white locks sprang out all around his forehead, like the mane of a lion. “It is as you say,” he answered soberly, “yet I deserve no praise. Avil-Marduk urges on Belshazzar against the servants of Jehovah, as being the weakest of the gods opposed to the supremacy of Marduk. Soon he will try to crush Nabu himself. I have acted in self-protection. But this is old chaff; all the wheat was long since winnowed out of it.” “Well do I know that,” replied the Hebrew, bitterly; “we are being pushed to bay, you Babylonians as well as I. Avil-Marduk has made the king entirely his tool; almost I think he seeks the throne himself, nought less.” Imbi nodded gloomily. “I believe you;” then, a shade more lightly, “but you, O Daniel, are under some greater constraint than distant anxiety for your people. By your own god, whom I much reverence, tell me truly, what brings you now to Borsippa? Since you saved my life, with those of the other wise men, because we could not reveal to Nebuchadnezzar his dream, have we not been sworn comrades, in good and in ill? Speak freely. Your wish?” “Your friendship may be indeed tested,” quoth the other, still soberly; “the king is none too much your friend to-day. If you grant my wish, he will neglect no occasion against you.” “By Nabu!” cried the pontiff, affecting carelessness he did not feel, “you interest me. Tell it out. But not yet.” He snapped his fingers loudly; a white-robed servitor appeared. “This way, boy! Bring my Lord Daniel the oldest and coolest of the wine that came yesterday from Larsam, and a platter of honey cakes. He has driven far, and is weary.” Then to Daniel, “No excuses. No sorrow is doubled by a cup from my own vineyard.”