“Out of my sight, woman!” thundered Belshazzar; and he had spurned her. The eunuchs took her away. The king drank alone, draining goblet after goblet of the most heady “Elamite”; but though he wished it, he could not grow drunken. His body eunuchs put him to bed. He tossed long on the India-web pillows and the Sidonian purple. They had bathed his feet in perfumed water at last, and very late he fell asleep. The little group of servants had gathered outside the door of the chamber, squatting in silence on the tiles, each inwardly blessing some god that he had been spared the royal wrath that day....
Midnight. The king turned once on his pillows, and the eunuchs’ hearts commenced quaking. Anew he slept soundly, and they were again rejoiced.... But what was this hasting of feet on the stairway, this thundering summons to the guard below not to hinder? “The king! The king!” Sirusur the Tartan was before the eunuchs, sword drawn, fully armed.
“Rouse his Majesty,” commanded the general, halting his run. “Rouse instantly! Darius the Persian is fled!”
A eunuch stood by the bedside, awoke the king, and told him. The fellow had vowed a sheep to Samas, but the god did not favour. The king caught the short sword, ever ready, and smote the messenger of ill tidings to the floor. Then he raged from the chamber, and even Sirusur fell on his knees, cowering, for the king’s wrath passed that of bayed lions.
“Not I—O awarder of life! I was not guards-captain; no blame is mine!” The general’s teeth chattered as he spoke.
“Who commanded the watch?” came from Belshazzar, in a voice betokening the bolt impending.
“Zikha, ‘captain of a thousand.’”
“Go you,” Belshazzar addressed Mermaza; “have a stake made ready. Let Zikha be impaled at dawn. And now, Sirusur, where is the fugitive? By Istar, you deserve death likewise! Whither fled? Is pursuit made? Speak, as you love life!”
“He fled by the tunnel, lord. The guards were drugged. Traitors aided. Daniel fled with them also, but he has been retaken.”