At the moment, no doubt, he spoke truth. The stream of a passing inclination, stemmed by opposition and difficulty, had swelled into a torrent of desire he had neither power nor inclination to control.
"And if you might take this fair dove to your bosom," continued the queen, "would you consent to forego Babylon and its pleasures? Would you make your escape in secret, and remain for a season in seclusion, until the wrath of the Great King was overpast?"
"I am ready to go now," answered the impetuous boy. "My horses are of the purest breed in all the land of Shinar. I will fly with her to the ends of the earth."
"You need not go farther than Ascalon," replied his mother with a smile. "In mine ancient stronghold, rude and timeworn though it be, I can still count many a friend who would beard Ninus and all his line at my lightest word. And the common multitude are devoted to my service far more than in Nineveh, or even here in Babylon, which but for me would still have been a mere hamlet of huts in a marsh. My son, if ever you come to rule, trust no longer to the people's gratitude than while you have benefits to confer: the loyalty of a nation is seldom proof against a rise in the price of corn. Nevertheless, in lofty Ascalon you may be safe and secret enough, until time and my constant entreaties shall have softened the resentment of my lord the king. The girl is willing, of course," continued the queen, tenderly and in a half-sorrowful tone; "for such faces as yours are made to be the ruin of all who look on them too freely."
No woman, she was thinking, could resist that smile of her boy's—so fond, so winning, so like her own.
Ninyas hesitated; and once more his hand stole towards the javelin by the wall.
"There must be neither delay," said he, "nor hesitation. The girl would love well enough without doubt; but—but—" here the blood flew to his temples and the angry light to his eye—"another has seen her, and would fain make her his own: one who brought here tidings from the camp before the host marched in—a goodly youth and a brave warrior. Nevertheless, he must die."
"Not so," exclaimed the queen, turning pale. "Believe me, this is a matter to be carried through by the fine wit of woman, rather than the strong hand of man. You must abide wholly by my counsel. I have never failed you, my son. Shall I fail you now in this your great need?"
It is possible that, had he trusted implicitly to his mother's guidance, her heart might have been softened and her purpose set aside even now; but he flung his head up impatiently, and threatened where he should have confided or cajoled.
"I will not wait a day!" he exclaimed angrily. "I will not sit still while another is in my place. Sarchedon loves this girl very dearly, and in a few hours I may be too late."