Atossa turned upon him haughtily, and from under her veil shot through him a glance such as can dart only from the eyes of a great king’s daughter.
“Assuredly, worthy priest,” and Avil winced before her disdainful patronage, “it is true our prophet Zarathushtra[6] enjoins no processions where the populace heap personal revilings on the chief of our Magian pontiffs.”
“Down with Avil! Release Daniel! Nabu is outraged!” buzzed from the crowd.
“Ah, my princess,” said Avil, smiling, “the king is overkindly disposed. Could I persuade him, these seditious fellows would soon shout otherwise.”
“His Majesty is too kindly disposed?” replied she, removing her veil that Avil might see the unconcealed sneer on her lips.
“His heart is a mountain of compassion,” asserted the priest, who felt that he was being made sorry sport of, yet would not retire from the encounter.
“But not so merciful as my Lord Avil,” interposed Mermaza, the oily chief eunuch, glad to prod his comrade, “for his heart is one sponge soaked with magnanimity.”
“Marduk blast you, Mermaza!” muttered Avil under breath.
“I trust not,” replied the smirking eunuch, “the excellent god, my dear Avil, will need all his powers for weightier things to-day. Hear the people—”
“Avil conspires against Nabu! Rescue for the good minister! Release Daniel!”