"Drink, my lord," said a very sweet and gentle voice from the folds of a thin white veil. "When your thirst is quenched, your servant will take her payment in news from the army of the Great King."
He was young, bold, gallant, born under a Southern sun; but had Ashtaroth, Queen of Heaven, come down in person to accost him, with a pitcher of water in her hand, he must have drunk before he could utter a syllable in reply.
The girl watched him, while he emptied the vessel, with such tender interest as women take in the physical needs of one to whom they render aid, and refilled it forthwith, showing, perhaps not unconsciously, a lithe and graceful figure as she bent over the fountain.
"Thanks, maiden," said he. "You have put new life into a fainting man; for I have galloped over many a weary league of sand, and scarce drawn bridle since yesterday at noon."
"The poor horse!" answered the girl, laying a slender hand on Merodach's swelling neck. "But my lord comes doubtless from the camp, and has joyful tidings to bring, or he had never ridden so far and fast. What of the Great King? and O! what of Arbaces? Is he safe? Is he unhurt? Is he well?"
There was a tremble in her voice that denoted intense anxiety, and the pitcher in her hand shook till it overflowed.
Sarchedon marked her agitation with a sense of displeasure, unaccountable as it was unjust.
"The Great King," he answered, raising his right hand quickly to mouth and eyes while he named him—"the Great King has triumphed, as he must ever triumph when he mounts his war-chariot. The captain of the host is well in health, unwounded, though foremost in battle;—trusted by his lord, feared by the enemy, and honoured of all."
She clasped her pretty hands together in delight, while the pitcher, escaping from her grasp, poured its contents into the thirsty soil and rolled under Merodach's hoofs, eliciting from the horse a prolonged snort of astonishment and disgust.
"You are indeed a messenger of the gods!" said she—"welcome as the breeze at sundown; welcome as the rains of spring; welcome to the Great Queen and her people yonder in the city; but to none so welcome as you have been to me!"