At length it came to the memory of one who had come from the court of Oroetes, at Sardis, that report had spoken of a Greek surgeon among the slaves of the slain satrap. He mentioned this, and the king, to whom any hope of relief was welcome, gave orders that this man should be sought and brought before him. It was a miserable object that was soon ushered into the royal presence, a poor creature in rags, with fetters on his hands, and deep lines of suffering upon his face; a picture of misery, in fact. He was asked if he understood surgery. "No," he replied; saying that he was a slave, not a surgeon. Darius did not believe him; these Greeks were artful; but there were ways of getting at the truth. He ordered that the scourge and the pricking instruments of torture should be brought. Democedes, who was probably playing a shrewd game, now admitted that he did have some little skill, but feared to practise his small art on so great a patient. He was bidden to do what he could, and went to work on the royal foot. The little skill of the Greek soon distanced the great skill of the Egyptians. He succeeded perfectly in alleviating the pain, and soon had his patient in a deep and refreshing sleep. In a short time the foot was sound again, and Darius could once more stand without a twinge of pain. The king, who had grown hopeless of a cure, was filled with joy, and set no bounds to his gratitude. Democedes had come before him in iron chains. As a first reward the king presented him with two sets of chains of solid gold. He next sent him to receive the thanks of his wives. Being introduced into the harem, Democedes was presented to the sultanas as the man who had saved the king's life, and whom their lord and master delighted to honor. Each of the fair and grateful women, in reward for his great deed, gave him a saucer-full of golden coins, which were so many, and heaped so high, that the slave who followed him grew rich by merely picking up the pieces that dropped on the floor. Nor did the generosity of Darius stop here. He gave Democedes a splendid house and furniture, made him eat at his own table, and showed him every favor at his command. As for the unlucky Egyptian surgeons, they would all have been crucified for their lack of skill had not Democedes begged for their lives. He might safely have told Darius that if he began to crucify men for ignorance and assurance he would soon have few subjects left. But with all the favors which Darius granted, there was one which he steadily refused to grant. And it was one on which Democedes had set his heart. He wanted to return to Greece. Splendor in Persia was very well in its way, but to his patriotic heart a crust in Greece was better than a loaf in this land of strangers. Ask as he might, however, Darius would not consent. A sprain or other harm might come to him again. What would he then do without Democedes? He could not let him go.