The sun was sinking behind the western mountains when the cavalcade approached the gates of the city, and the dark thickets by the roadside were vocal with the song of the nightingale; but his voice was soon hushed by the notes of martial music and the triumphant shouts of welcome that greeted their first appearance to the people who had been held back by the spears of the soldiery. Although the distant peaks still wore the crimson crowns of sunset, the side of the mountain was already dark with the gathering shades of twilight, and signal fires flashed from the gray depths of the forest or blazed upon the leafless slopes of granite beyond them. Within the city all was joyous tumult; but Meher had little heart for the general rejoicing, and scarcely waiting to be announced he hurried away to the apartments of his mother. A little later the Princess Nahīd was ushered into the rooms of the queen, and was folded closely to the warm, loving heart, so fully prepared to receive her. Little cared the mother for the wondrous beauty of the princess, but much she valued the loyal heart which had been given so fully into the keeping of her son, and from that day forth she was cherished as a loving daughter in the royal household. The days flew by on joyous feet, but King Shapur was weary of the cares of state—weary of a life whose very pleasures were burdened with responsibility and embittered with the knowledge that treachery waited only for a favorable opportunity to show her cruel fangs. He therefore abdicated in favor of his son, and voluntarily invested Meher with the robes of sovereignty. All the resources of the kingdom were taxed to provide for the splendors of the coronation ceremony. Again the royal procession swept through the streets, and feasts were given where the richest wines of the East were poured in jeweled cups and the tables were laden with the choicest viands from many climes. There were plantains, golden and green, and grapes of gold; there were apples and pomegranates from Kabūl, apricots from the fairest gardens of Īrān, and the sunniest fruits in all the lands of the Orient. Again the dark face of the mountain blazed forth at night with the signal-lights of victory, the river was covered with barges bearing illuminations, and the night rivaled the day in the splendor of its offerings at the feet of the new Shāh, and Mūshteri, his Grand Vizir. CHAPTER XXII. CONCLUSION. SUMMARY—PRIESTLY RULE—RUSSIAN OPPRESSION. We have now passed in review the principal features of a great literature from its early mythology to the time when the rule of priestcraft, combined with political tyranny, seems to have quenched the fire of Persian genius.