"Hush!" a nudging neighbor whispered. "Be sparing of thy tongue, lest Ninus serve thee as he served yon Babylonian fool."
So Gazil held his peace, and Ninus looked in silence on Semiramis. In the mind of the King two spirits warred for mastery; the one in anger at this prisoner who escaped from Nineveh to defy his will, the other unwilling admiration of her recklessness.
"And why," he asked, as he combed his beard, "doth the merchant risk her head in a journey unto Zariaspa?"
Semiramis regarded him with a look of childish wonder wherein was mingled trust untouched by fear.
"Right well the lord of Assyria knoweth that I come at his own command."
Now the King bad commanded no such thing, yet, recalling how the Syrian's wits had befooled him in the halls at Nineveh, he took council with himself lest it chance again.
"Speak," he urged, with a cautious mien, "that these my chiefs and friends may hear."
Semiramis bowed before him humbly and turned to the listening men.
"My lords," she began, and looked on each in turn, "far better than I might Ninus speak, for the glory of this deed is his." She paused an instant, then spoke once more, her rich tones falling strangely on the ears of those who heard. "In a vision came the King unto my side—a spirit in the godly robes of Asshur and the hornéd cap of Bel. 'Arise, Shammuramat,' he commanded, in a voice that rolled as from afar; 'arise and seek through the hills of Hindu-Kush for a wondrous secret hidden there—a secret through which all Zariaspa feasteth long, while Assyria must prowl, a hungry wolf outside its walls.'"
"Ah!" cried Ninus, leaping to his feet, "thou knowest, then, whence cometh Zariaspa's store of food?"