Like a swan cleaving the waters, Merodach forced his way through the ebb and flow of an eager crowd, even dangerous in the impatience with which it surged to one common centre, where two figures, dusty and travel-worn, as though arriving from a journey, sat patiently on their drooping horses to receive with exceeding calmness the cheers and congratulations lavished by the populace. One of these was in female attire, and enough of the veil and mantle were thrown aside to disclose a beautiful face, recognised with wild enthusiasm by the people of Babylon for that of the Great Queen. Shouts of welcome, acclamations denoting a transport of loyalty and affection, rose on all sides. "Semiramis! Semiramis!" was the ceaseless burden of many thousand voices; while the lowest and dirtiest of the excited multitude demanded angrily the repeal of that law which forbade a woman to reign over the sons of Ashur, insisting that their queen should be invested with supreme authority in this her especial city, the work of her hands, proposing that she should ride at once to the palace, on a pavement composed of their own necks and shoulders, many of them proceeding to fling themselves on their faces with that object forthwith.

So flattering a reception seemed, however, to raise no corresponding gratitude in the person to whom it was offered. The beautiful face wore only an expression of malicious amusement mingled with somewhat scornful surprise; while the other horseman, riding in close attendance, looked strangely troubled, whispering doubt and apprehension in the ear of his more composed, if more contemptuous, companion.

Sethos—for it was no other than the Great King's cup-bearer who thus found himself in a situation of extreme perplexity—on his arrival in Babylon felt indeed at his wits' end. When he obeyed the summons of his young lord, to ride with him through the desert, day and night, till they reached the great city, which Ninyas, for reasons of his own, proposed to enter in female disguise, he bade farewell to the grim towers of Ascalon with a light heart, looking on the expedition, though it necessitated more bodily exertion than he loved, as one of intrigue, mirth, and amusement, especially at the end. The little he could gather from Ninyas during their journey failed to prepare him for such a reception as awaited them; and indeed the young king toyed, trifled, and galloped through all these leagues of burning sand as if life had nothing more serious to offer than the jest of leaving his tired attendants, one by one, in the wilderness, and riding his own good horse mercilessly to the point of death.

It had ever been the nature of Ninyas to appear lightest of heart when most he saw cause for vexation or anxiety; nor, indeed, was it without good reason that he quitted his retirement to look after his inheritance in person, and made an effort to retain the sceptre, which he first learned was his own at the moment it seemed so mysteriously to be slipping from his grasp.

His conversation with Sethos had been the earliest communication he received of his father's departure to the stars; it filled him with wonder and alarm. Subsequent explanations and comments of the cup-bearer served only to increase his bewilderment. But for the audacity of such a proceeding, he would have felt satisfied that another had personated him in order to rob him of his crown.

It perplexed him, too, that he should have received no tidings from the mother to whom he was accustomed to fly in all his difficulties, feeling, perhaps, no little concern for her safety as well as for his own succession.

The escape of Ishtar also angered him to the core, while of Rekamat he was wearied, even to disgust. He resolved, therefore, on returning without delay to Babylon, there to examine for himself the opposition with which he had to contend, adopting the attire of a woman, as most likely thus to avoid recognition, while he prosecuted his inquiries and ascertained the nature of a conspiracy that must have been organised for his destruction.

It seemed, therefore, inconvenient and untoward in the last degree to find himself the object of such an ovation as now greeted him, denoting enthusiastic attachment, not for himself, but for the mother to whom he bore so close a resemblance. He felt his position more embarrassing than ever, when it dawned on him that in his own capital his own people mistook him for the queen. A score of times he strove to address them, and a score of times his voice was drowned in the deafening acclamations that arose the moment he opened his lips.

His patience was failing fast, and an angry light already glittered in his eyes, when the whole expression of his face changed to one of extreme consternation and dismay. Dashing up at a gallop, and halting within two strides, sat a figure on a white horse, so like himself in his ordinary royal attire, that for a space in which a man might have counted a hundred, his senses deserted him, and, speechless from sheer amazement, he could but gaze with dilated eyes, like one horror-stricken at some vision from another world. The face, the form, the scarlet robe, the princely tiara, the golden collar, the jewelled sword, the very trappings of the horse, were all his own; and in the gesture with which that figure suddenly drew rein to station itself motionless over against him, he seemed to see himself not in the foolish disguise he had lately assumed, but as it had been his custom to ride through the streets of Babylon, the darling of the Assyrian people, the flower of young heroes, the fairest of young princes, in the eastern world.

Brief as was the interval during which his presence of mind forsook him, it was long enough to permit one of those rapid strokes by which, in love, war, and policy, bold spirits gain the mastery; the other Ninyas had also paused for a moment, as if confused and uncertain how to act, but Assarac, pressing to the white horse's side, whispered a few earnest words in its rider's ear—words that brought a flash of energy and intelligence into the beautiful face of his listener, ere the eunuch turned in the saddle to impress some hasty directions on a captain of ten thousand, who was in attendance at his back.

Meantime the multitude shouted louder than ever, crowding, as they believed, in eager homage about their queen, unconscious of the pressure caused by a ring of spearmen circling gradually round Sethos and the veiled figure at his side.

Mingled, however, with the protestations of loyalty and affection lavished on Semiramis, rose many a seditious outcry, many an angry burst of impatience and contempt against the name of Ninyas. As the spearmen encompassed the newcomers, there was much increase of ill-humour amongst the multitude, thus wedged together by a band of iron that compressed them from without—women shrieked and fainted—children were trampled under foot—strong men, reeling and swaying to and fro, cursed audibly, directing savage scowls and fierce abuse at the rider of the white horse, as though their ruler were answerable even for the excesses of a disorderly crowd. The storm increased, the human waves surged, swelled, and roared, everything indicated a tumult, and still the serried ranks of spearmen narrowed their circle, drawing closer and closer round the little knot of figures on which all eyes were fixed.

"Never had man or woman such a chance!" whispered Assarac. "By the body of Ashur, his sceptre has come down from the stars into your very hand. It is but to close your fingers, and you grasp it once for all!"

The rider of the white horse replied by a look of intelligence in the eunuch's face, and a gesture of supreme contempt for the noisy multitude.

Assarac's eyes answered with a gaze of devoted and passionate adoration.

"Opportunity," he murmured, "is the harvest of the gods!" But the sentiment seemed lost on the ear to which it was addressed; for the fiery white horse, obeying hand and heel, began to plunge with such formidable energy as soon cleared a breathing-space, so to speak, in the receding crowd.

And now the roll of chariots was heard without the gate, while a score of trumpets answered each other in swelling notes of war from all quarters of the city. Men knew that for every trumpet rode a thousand of Assyria's terrible horsemen, armed with bow and spear.

It was well, thought Sethos, for his lord and himself, that they were so safely guarded. Stalwart warriors, massed ten deep, kept the people off on every side; but with thunder of wheels and bray of clarions, a certain panic took possession of the crowd, and it closed in so heavily on the plunging Merodach that, active as was the animal, it seemed in danger of being swept off its feet. Had they once gone down, neither horse nor rider would ever have risen again.

Assarac exerted all his strength and all his courage to keep in close attendance. On his face was graven the set expression of one who elects rather to die than fail in his desire; and under that storm of howls, and threats, and bitter execrations, the eunuch bore himself like a man.

An ever-increasing pressure in the crowd had now forced the white horse against the surface of the city wall, which sloped upwards from within at such an angle as permitted a nimble bowman to surmount the incline, and reach a narrow platform, whence under cover of the rampart he could discharge his missiles in safety against an enemy. It was very steep, and afforded a foothold slippery and insecure to the last degree.

Measuring it in one rapid glance, his rider's hand and heel roused Merodach's courage to the utmost for his effort. With a bound like a wild-deer, a shower of sun-baked clay, a hideous moment of poise, struggle, and recovery, the white horse bore his rider to this point of vantage and security, standing there motionless, save for a quick vibration of his ears, a prolonged snort, expressing triumph, defiance, and a sense of danger past.

Throned in their recess, the pair seemed rather to have come down from the gods than gone up from amongst men.

Such a feat, with such a people, could not but produce an irresistible effect. Voices raised a little earlier in scorn and hatred now shouted enthusiastic admiration and approval. One such display of skill in horsemanship seemed enough to regain for their reckless ruler all the popularity that had been withdrawn.

Every eye was now riveted on the white horse and its rider. At a signal that the latter desired to speak, unbroken silence fell on those assembled thousands, and not an accent was lost of that sweet measured voice, clear, full, and musical in the cadence of its every tone.

"Sons of Ashur," it said, "men of Babylon, conquerors of the world, ye love the line of Nimrod dearly, but ye love not me! Tell me not ye have changed in one brief moment, because of a bold leap and a willing steed. I am unworthy to reign over you. I have been weighed, and found wanting. I have tried, and failed. Baal in his temple has warned me to abandon the reins I possess neither power nor wit to guide. I have seen your reception of Semiramis. I know—none better—the worth and wisdom of the Great Queen. Sons of Ashur, in her favour I abdicate; to her hand I resign my sceptre, at her feet I lay my crown. May the queen live for ever! I have spoken. And now stand aside, sons of Ashur, while I come down, lest I hurt a hair of the head of one of her especial people, whom she will rule with a mother's love, whom she will lead to triumphs beside which the glory of Ninus himself shall pale and fade away!"

With these words, Merodach was urged to the downward leap. A column of spearmen cleared a passage through the crowd, and the brave white horse, followed by the eyes of all Babylon, galloped off at speed towards the palace of the Great Queen.

When men turned to look for her, marvelling at her strange appearance among them weary and travel-worn out of the desert, lo, she too had vanished with her attendant, guarded, it was said, by hosts of archers, clouds of horsemen who thronged about her so thick and close, that none might lock on the royal person, nor come within hearing of the royal voice.

Nevertheless, each went to his home with a pleasing prospect of coming rejoicings, of war and triumph, feast and revel, harp, timbrel, and beat of dancing feet, splendour in the palace, plenty in the suburb, jovial days and merry nights throughout great Babylon once more.