[The Persian gardens were celebrated throughout the old world, and seem to have been laid out much less stiffly than the Egyptian.  Even the kings of Persia did not consider horticulture beneath their notice, and the highest among the Achaemenidae took an especial pleasure in laying out parks, called in Persian Paradises.  Their admiration for well-grown trees went so far, that Xerxes, finding on his way to Greece a singularly beautiful tree, hung ornaments of gold upon its branches.  Firdusi, the great Persian epic poet, compares human beauty to the growth of the cypress, as the highest praise he can give.  Indeed some trees were worshipped by the Persians; and as the tree of life in the Hebrew and Egyptian, so we find sacred trees in their Paradise.]

No sound was to be heard except the one which had alarmed her, and this too died away at last on the morning breeze.  After a few minutes she heard cries and noise in the distance, then the great city awaking to its daily work, which soon settled down into a deep, dull murmur like the roaring of the sea.

Nitetis was by this time so thoroughly awakened from the effect of the fresh morning air, that she did not care to lie down again.  She went once more to the window and perceived two figures coming out of the house.  One she recognized as the eunuch Boges; he was talking to a beautiful Persian woman carelessly dressed.  They approached her window.  Nitetis hid herself behind the half-opened shutter and listened, for she fancied she heard her own name.

“The Egyptian is still asleep.” said Boges.  “She must be much fatigued by the journey.  I see too that one of her windows is still firmly closed.”

“Then tell me quickly,” said the Persian.  “Do you really think that this stranger’s coming can injure me in any way?”

“Certainly, I do, my pretty one.”

“But what leads you to suppose this?”

“She is only to obey the king’s commands, not mine.”

“Is that all?”

“No, my treasure.  I know the king.  I can read his features as the Magi read the sacred books.”

“Then we must ruin her.”

“More easily said than done, my little bird.”

“Leave me alone! you are insolent.”

“Well, but nobody can see us, and you know you can do nothing without my help.”

“Very well then, I don’t care.  But tell me quickly what we can do.”

“Thanks, my sweet Phaedime.  Well, for the present we must be patient and wait our time.  That detestable hypocrite Croesus seems to have established himself as protector of the Egyptian; when he is away, we must set our snares.”

The speakers were by this time at such a distance, that Nitetis could not understand what they said.  In silent indignation she closed the shutter, and called her maidens to dress her.  She knew her enemies now—­she knew that a thousand dangers surrounded her, and yet she felt proud and happy, for was she not chosen to be the real wife of Cambyses?  Her own worth seemed clearer to her than ever before, from a comparison with these miserable creatures, and a wonderful certainty of ultimate victory stole into her heart, for Nitetis was a firm believer in the magic power of virtue.