“Never! I will not send,” cried Belshazzar. But as he saw again that burning line, he grew yet paler.
“Daniel! Daniel! We are lost if the writing is longer hid! Send for the Jew!”
The captains were waxing mutinous. Scabbards clattered. Would the feast end in rebellion? Belshazzar addressed Mermaza. “Eunuch, go to the innermost prison and bring Daniel hither without delay.”
“Hold!” cried Avil, at the top of his voice; “what god can speak through his lips? Is the king of Babylon sunk so low—”
“Read and interpret yourself, priest,” bawled an old officer; and from fifty fellows rose the yell: “Away with Avil-Marduk. It is he who angers heaven!”
“Shall I go, lord?” questioned Mermaza, and Belshazzar only nodded his head.
Then there was silence once more, while monarch and servants watched those letters burning on the wall. Presently—after how long!—there were feet heard in the outer court, the clanking of chains; then right into the glare and glitter came Mermaza, followed by two soldiers; and betwixt these an old man, squalid, unkempt, clothed in rags, the fetters still on wrist and ankle. But at sight of him a hundred knelt to worship.
“Help us, noble Jew! Make known the writing, that we may obey heaven, and may not die!” One and all cried it. But Daniel heeded nothing until he stood before the king.
As Belshazzar rose from his couch to speak, a cry broke forth from Ruth. “My father! My father! Help me! Save me!” Almost she would have flown to his arms, but he outstretched a manacled hand, beckoning away.
“Not now, daughter. On another errand have I come.” Then to the king, “Your Majesty, I am here.”