The escape from this altogether unexpected danger is due to two courses of events. One of them--in accordance with the reserved style of the narrative--appears to be quite accidental. Mordecai got the reward he never sought in what seems to be the most casual way. He had no hand in obtaining for himself an honour which looks to us quaintly childish. For a few brief hours he was paraded through the streets of the royal city as the man whom the king delighted to honour, with no less a person than the grand vizier to serve as his groom. It was Haman's silly vanity that had invented this frivolous proceeding. We can hardly suppose that Mordecai cared much for it. After the procession had completed its round, in true Oriental fashion Mordecai put off his gorgeous robes, like a poor actor returning from the stage to his garret, and settled down to his lowly office exactly as if nothing had happened. This must seem to us a foolish business, unless we can look at it through the magnifying glass of an Oriental imagination, and even then there is nothing very fascinating in it. Still it had important consequences. For, in the first place, it prepared the way for a further recognition of Mordecai in the future. He was now a marked personage. Ahasuerus knew him, and was gratefully disposed towards him. The people understood that the king delighted to honour him. His couch would not be the softer nor his bread the sweeter; but all sorts of future possibilities lay open before him. To many men the possibilities of life are more precious than the actualities. We cannot say, however, that they meant much to Mordecai, for he was not ambitious, and he had no reason to think that the kings conscience was not perfectly satisfied with the cheap settlement of his debt of gratitude. Still the possibilities existed, and before the end of the tale they had blossomed out to very brilliant results. But another consequence of the pageant was that the heart of Haman was turned to gall. We see him livid with jealousy, inconsolable until his wife--who evidently knows him well--proposes to satisfy his spite by another piece of fanciful extravagance. Mordecai shall be impaled on a mighty stake, so high that all the world shall see the ghastly spectacle. This may give some comfort to the wounded vanity of the grand vizier. But consolation to Haman will be death and torment to Mordecai.