Masistius paused a moment impressively, then he asked without even glancing in Zopyrus’ direction: “And the other maiden, what of her? But that is a rude question,” he added, laying an affectionate hand upon the other’s shoulder. “I presume by now she is safe with her people.”
Zopyrus turned quickly and sought his companion’s gaze. “Friend Masistius,” he said, “I have kept locked within my breast these ten months, a secret, so precious that I hesitate to share it, and I would not do so were it not approaching the eve of battle, but to you who throughout this entire campaign, have been the only friend whose ideas of life coincide with mine, I will disclose that which I had not thought to reveal to mortal man. Although my acquaintance with the maiden of whom you speak was of short duration, it was, nevertheless, long enough to convince me that I want her for my wife.”
The Persian cavalryman expressed no little surprise at his friend’s disclosure.
“Was the infatuation mutual?” he asked.
“If I possess any ability in interpreting a maiden’s thoughts through her eyes, my love is reciprocated,” said Zopyrus, the color mounting to his temples.
“If that be the case,” spoke Masistius heartily, “may Ahura-Mazdâo bring you together after we have conquered Greece!”
“And if we cannot succeed in subduing the Greeks?”
“Then Zeus may perform the act of reuniting you,” replied Masistius somewhat bitterly.
The fire had by this time died down till only a few glowing embers remained. Zopyrus rose to take his leave.
“Farewell, Masistius, till the feast. Forget the confidences of the past hour. This love of mine can avail nothing.”