“Is that all?”
“No, my treasure. I know the king. I can read his features as the Magi read the sacred books.”
“Then we must ruin her.”
“More easily said than done, my little bird.”
“Leave me alone! you are insolent.”
“Well, but nobody can see us, and you know you can do nothing without my help.”
“Very well then, I don’t care. But tell me quickly what we can do.”
“Thanks, my sweet Phaedime. Well, for the present we must be patient and wait our time. That detestable hypocrite Croesus seems to have established himself as protector of the Egyptian; when he is away, we must set our snares.”
The speakers were by this time at such a distance, that Nitetis could not understand what they said. In silent indignation she closed the shutter, and called her maidens to dress her. She knew her enemies now—she knew that a thousand dangers surrounded her, and yet she felt proud and happy, for was she not chosen to be the real wife of Cambyses? Her own worth seemed clearer to her than ever before, from a comparison with these miserable creatures, and a wonderful certainty of ultimate victory stole into her heart, for Nitetis was a firm believer in the magic power of virtue.
“What was that dreadful sound I heard so early?” she asked of her principal waiting-woman, who was arranging her hair.