“I told you before, I had one last weapon against Belshazzar; but scruples of loyalty restrained me. After _this_,” with a weary smile, “all fealty truly ends. Hearken now to each word. You must be all resources to-night. You know the king gives a betrothal feast in the Hanging Gardens, in honour of the Persian princess. All the ministers and captains are invited saving myself—sure sign of the royal disfavour. You must contrive to enter the Gardens after the drinking has made the guards negligent, when you can shun discovery. After the wine has set the feast in confusion, seek out Darius the Persian envoy. God must aid you to have words with him alone. You must act to-night; for though Mermaza’s oath may delay his revenge a little, none can tell when the stroke may fall, and we be helpless in prison or as fugitives. Tell Darius that I, Daniel, who know all the king’s secrets, though they think it not, say that the treaty he makes with Belshazzar is a snare for the feet of Cyrus. The hand of Atossa was asked to lull him into security. Belshazzar negotiates with Amasis the Egyptian for a league against Persia, and Babylonish agents scatter sedition in Media and Carmania. Belshazzar is collecting troops and munitions. His bolt will fall as lightning from a smiling sky.” The younger Jew was startled indeed. “Jehovah Omnipotent! I did not dream this, that Belshazzar’s and Avil’s perfidy could sink so deep!” Daniel laughed aloud at his simplicity. “When you have my years, O Isaiah, you will have sounded the depths of many seas of guile, and never marvel. You are young and trustful. Alas, that you must grow wise! But go now, before Mermaza returns to the palace. Our persons are safe for the moment: and Ruth can find shelter so long as Imbi-Ilu is our friend. But for true deliverance, Cyrus’s gratitude and the Persians’ might,—the Persians who worship the one God like ourselves,—these are the only hopes.” Isaiah drove away from the temple that evening in a strange mingling of terror, yet of hopefulness. The warm touch of Ruth upon his cheek was still thrilling him, the sweetness of her kiss was on his lips. Was all lost while he was strong and free? And with the fate of his people and of those he loved resting upon him, where was the moment in which to dare to dream of failure? Darius had declared himself his friend; Darius, he felt, he scarce knew why, was already Belshazzar’s foe. Why might not Jehovah raise up this prince as a second Moses, to lead His people out of their new and more grievous bondage? [Illustration: GLORY OF CHALDEES] CHAPTER VI