“And let your Majesty observe,” interrupted Avil, angrily, “that the civil-minister, being a Jew, cannot claim the protection of the law of Babylon.” But at this Bilsandan the vizier leaped from his station. “Are you mad, priest?” he cried. “Deny foreigners our law, and all the great Egyptian and Syrian merchants quit Babylon; our trade is blasted!” “And will you presume to teach _me_ my duty to the king?” retorted Avil, still more wrathfully. But before the tumult could rise higher, the justiciar stepped out before the throne. “Live forever, O king!” spoke he, salaaming. “Before your Majesty passes judgment, hear this concerning the witness Tabni. Daniel has not yet asked him, but I do ask, whether he was not the ‘charmer’ who was brought before the ‘Tribunal of the Five Judges,’ in the past year, when Daniel sat with me among the members? He is silent; he dares deny nothing. No; nor dare he deny that he was convicted first of embezzlement, then of perjury; and that all the judges save Daniel voted ‘death,’ but the civil-minister persuaded us to mercy. We imposed three hundred stripes. Behold the gratitude!” The uproar was doubled now, the exertions of the wand-bearers utterly futile. The luckless Tabni cowered behind the chief priest, who still clamoured, “Execute the blasphemer! No mercy to the sorcerer!” While Bilsandan as loudly bade the priest “make an end to his patter!” and to remember the precept in the “Book of Maxims,” “Let the king avenge according to the law, or swiftest destruction waiteth upon his city.” Yet, through all the clamour and turbulence, Belshazzar sat upon the ivory throne, impassive, implacable. The very sympathies of the company had made his stony heart still harder. Was he not king? Should any ancient law, from men of ages forgotten, stand betwixt _him_ and his own royal will? At the first instant of silence his voice rang clear:— “Hear my judgment. Daniel is a Jew, and the law does not cover him. His guilt is sufficiently proved. Advance, Khatin; seize the prisoner!” But it was not merely shoutings now that drowned the king’s voice. Right before the monarch sprang Sirusur, “Master of the Host.” “Lord,” cried he, hotly, “if your Majesty desires to put crown ministers to death on the word of such as Tabni, let the king find another general!” And he cast his baton of office at the royal feet; so did the justiciar, so the “Master of the Granaries,” the “Master of the Treasury,” and a dozen great officials more. Khatin, the boldest of the bold, had shrunk from fulfilling the kingly order. But while Belshazzar sat lowering and unbending in the face of every protest, Mermaza had thrust his way through the angry officers, and salaamed before his master.