The influence of the king's mother had suffered a severe shock; and lastly, he had the pleasure of knowing, not only that he had outwitted every one and succeeded in all his plans, but that through his favorite Phaedime he might hope once more to become the all-powerful favorite of former days.
That sentence of death had been pronounced on Croesus and the young heroes, was by no means an unwelcome thought either, as they might have been instrumental in bringing his intrigues to light.
In the grey of the morning he left the king's apartment and went to Phaedime.

The proud Persian had taken no rest.

She was waiting for him with feverish anxiety, as a rumor of all that had happened had already reached the harem and penetrated to her apartments.

She was lying on a purple couch in her dressing-room; a thin silken chemise and yellow slippers thickly sown with turquoises and pearls composed her entire dress.

Twenty attendants were standing round her, but the moment she heard Boges she sent her slaves away, sprang up to meet him, and overwhelmed him with a stream of incoherent questions, all referring to her enemy Nitetis.
"Gently, gently, my little bird," said Boges, laying his hand on her shoulder.