The announcement of his coming was a signal for general rejoicing; even the children loved the young heir and knew the story of fraternal affection between him and Mūshteri. The Shāh had been bitterly blamed in the hearts of his subjects, although such was the force of Oriental despotism that a man scarcely knew the thought of his neighbor. Never were the imperial orders more willingly obeyed than when the Shāh commanded a festal scene to be arranged for the reception of Meher, and never was the marble city fairer than when the coming of the royal cavalcade was announced. Silken banners waved in triumph from every wall and battlement, while strains of martial music floated through the air, and the streets were strewn with white lilies and the fragrant roses of Persia. Gilded barges on the river wore their festal flags, and bore the minstrels down the stream to the shore, where the voices of singers were mingled with the notes of lute and psaltery. Without the city the Persian road of palms was festooned with arches of roses and strewn with the flowers of the valley, for all the way was glad with blossoms and vocal with the songs of welcome. In the early morning a swiftly-mounted courier had been stationed on an eminence a few miles from the city, where he could see the approaching cavalcade far down the valley, and when he rode into the city with the message that the advance guard was already in sight there were loud acclamations of joy. For hours the finest horses in the royal stables had stood impatient, with tossing plumes and gorgeous trappings, waiting for the advance, and now the Shāh, with his chosen guard, rode out in royal state to meet the coming prince. The white Arabian steeds, the costly armor of the troops and the rich raiment of the Shāh, made a gorgeous picture in the sunlight, when they swept down through the rose-covered arches and under the palms. As they rode onward a new strain of music saluted their ears, and a long line of camels came swinging slowly into view, their heads tufted with bright tassels, while their light-toned bells were shaking silvery notes upon the air, and their drivers were singing and playing on pipes. But lo! the lines were opened for a small troop of horsemen who galloped towards the Shāh, and Meher, swinging gracefully down from the saddle, came to his father’s feet. King Shapur quickly recognized the familiar face, and hastily dismounting, he caught his son in his arms. The hardy Persian soldiers turned away from the sacred scene with tears in their eyes, but after a time Mūshteri came forward, and humbly kneeling at the monarch’s feet he craved forgiveness. The Shāh laid his hand upon the head of him who, in his childhood, had seemed almost as near as his own son, and freely gave the royal pardon; then the lines were reformed, Meher and Mūshteri riding on either side of the king, and the horses were turned toward Istakhar.