"Ah!" said the King, his anger fading, while a smile began to play about his mouth. "So the eagle needs must wait when pigeons peck at love. Speak on, my son."
Menon flushed and cast his gaze upon the floor.
"I—I sat with her, my lord, and spoke of many things, taking no thought of how the moments flew, till—"
"Hark!" said Ninus, as he raised his hand. "Can it be that I hear Sozana singing from the garden there?" Menon listened, nodded, and the King went on: "Strange!" he mused. "For days she hath tasted lightly of her food, and sighed and drooped her head; yet now at thy coming she hath straightway plumed herself, and pipeth a saucy song. Look thou, master fox, what miracle is this?"
Menon flushed again and smiled a foolish smile; yet he answered cunningly, with a lingering grip on the slippery skin of truth:
"My lord, I—I whispered into the maiden's ear."
"Oho!" laughed Ninus. "Now by my beard, I'd give a goodly sum to learn thine art. But come, what chanced to be the burden of this pretty speech?"
"As to that," said Menon boldly, in a manner which ever pleased his lord, "my whisper is a secret in the keeping of discretion's tongue and the maiden's ear alone."
"U'u'm!" mused Ninus. "How many men-at-arms are now prepared to take the field against our good friend Oxyartes?"
For a space the two discussed their plans for a second war against the Bactrians, then Menon saluted his master's hand and took his leave. Alone, the King lay thinking on his war, when of a sudden his thought was disarranged by the notes of another song, no longer Sozana's voice, but that of a man, deep, tender, and pleasing to the ear: