Avil laughed softly. “Let the king’s heart be enlarged. My underlings tell me the people say, ‘Though the public records still run in the good Nabonidus’s name, he is grievously stricken by the “madness-demon”; and praised be Istar who sends the noble Belshazzar to replace him!’”
“If the tale spreads that Nabonidus is in sound health, shut up in Tema, what then?”
“Many things, my lord,—revolt, mutiny in the army; but nothing shall leak. In a year you will be firmly set upon the throne and can mock at all rumours. Only I fear the two men we have looked askance at for so long, Imbi-Ilu and Daniel.”
“Daniel!” exclaimed the king, as if struck by a sudden suggestion. “I had forgotten about his wench. She is at the harem, of course, Mermaza,—you shall bring her to me in the morning.”
There was a long and very awkward interval before the eunuch found courage to stammer:—
“Pardon, River of Compassion,—I, the least of your slaves—”
“She is not at the harem?” demanded the king, threateningly.
What followed, Darius did not well comprehend, thanks to the darkness, and the mingling of Mermaza’s snifflings with Belshazzar’s curses and oaths. The Persian imagined the eunuch had fallen upon his knees, and was almost pleading for his head. It sufficed that substantially the full story of the fruitless pursuit of the Jewess, and the defiance of Imbi-Ilu, was gasped out at last. When it was finished, Belshazzar swore madly.
“Now as Marduk lives, I will have the life of Daniel by another day, and pluck his daughter—”