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diff --git a/27587.txt b/27587.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b540b1f --- /dev/null +++ b/27587.txt @@ -0,0 +1,15522 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Victor of Salamis by William Stearns +Davis + + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no +restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under +the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or +online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license + + + +Title: A Victor of Salamis + +Author: William Stearns Davis + +Release Date: December 22, 2008 [Ebook #27587] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VICTOR OF SALAMIS*** + + + + + + A VICTOR OF SALAMIS + + The MM Co. + + + + + + A VICTOR OF SALAMIS + + + _A TALE OF THE DAYS OF XERXES, LEONIDAS AND THEMISTOCLES_ + + + BY + + WILLIAM STEARNS DAVIS + + AUTHOR OF "A FRIEND OF CAESAR," "GOD WILLS IT," + "BELSHAZZAR," ETC. + + + + "... On the AEgean shore a city stands, + Built nobly, pure the air and light the soil, + Athens, the eye of Greece." + + + + +*New York* +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY +LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD. +1907 +_All rights reserved_ + + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1907, + BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. + + ------- + + Set up and electrotyped. Published April, 1907. + + + + + *Norwood Press* + J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith Co. + Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. + + + + + + AUTHOR'S NOTE + + +The invasion of Greece by Xerxes, with its battles of Thermopylae, Salamis, +and Plataea, forms one of the most dramatic events in history. Had Athens +and Sparta succumbed to this attack of Oriental superstition and +despotism, the Parthenon, the Attic Theatre, the Dialogues of Plato, would +have been almost as impossible as if Phidias, Sophocles, and the +philosophers had never lived. Because this contest and its heroes--Leonidas +and Themistocles--cast their abiding shadows across our world of to-day, I +have attempted this piece of historical fiction. + +Many of the scenes were conceived on the fields of action themselves +during a recent visit to Greece, and I have tried to give some glimpse of +the natural beauty of "The Land of the Hellene,"--a beauty that will remain +when Themistocles and his peers fade away still further into the +backgrounds of history. + + W. S. D. + + + + + + CONTENTS + + + PROLOGUE + THE ISTHMIAN GAMES NEAR CORINTH + + CHAPTER PAGE + I. GLAUCON THE BEAUTIFUL 3 + II. THE ATHLETE 10 + III. THE HAND OF PERSIA 21 + IV. THE PENTATHLON 31 + + + BOOK I + THE SHADOW OF THE PERSIAN + + V. HERMIONE OF ELEUSIS 51 + VI. ATHENS 62 + VII. DEMOCRATES AND THE TEMPTER 74 + VIII. ON THE ACROPOLIS 84 + IX. THE CYPRIAN TRIUMPHS 95 + X. DEMOCRATES RESOLVES 106 + XI. THE PANATHENAEA 116 + XII. A TRAITOR TO HELLAS 128 + XIII. THE DISLOYALTY OF PHORMIO 141 + XIV. MARDONIUS THE PERSIAN 152 + + + BOOK II + THE COMING OF THE PERSIAN + + XV. THE LOTUS-EATING AT SARDIS 165 + XVI. THE COMING OF XERXES THE GOD-KING 174 + XVII. THE CHARMING BY ROXANA 186 + XVIII. DEMOCRATES'S TROUBLES RETURN 197 + XIX. THE COMMANDMENT OF XERXES 209 + XX. THERMOPYLAE 219 + XXI. THE THREE HUNDRED--AND ONE 230 + XXII. MARDONIUS GIVES A PROMISE 243 + XXIII. THE DARKEST HOUR 253 + XXIV. THE EVACUATION OF ATHENS 264 + XXV. THE ACROPOLIS FLAMES 268 + XXVI. THEMISTOCLES IS THINKING 279 + XXVII. THE CRAFT OF ODYSSEUS 287 + XXVIII. BEFORE THE DEATH GRAPPLE 300 + XXIX. SALAMIS 311 + XXX. THEMISTOCLES GIVES A PROMISE 329 + + + BOOK III + THE PASSING OF THE PERSIAN + + XXXI. DEMOCRATES SURRENDERS 333 + XXXII. THE STRANGER IN TROEZENE 343 + XXXIII. WHAT BEFELL ON THE HILLSIDE 350 + XXXIV. THE LOYALTY OF LAMPAXO 360 + XXXV. MOLOCH BETRAYS THE PHOENICIAN 372 + XXXVI. THE READING OF THE RIDDLE 388 + XXXVII. THE RACE TO SAVE HELLAS 399 + XXXVIII. THE COUNCIL OF MARDONIUS 418 + XXXIX. THE AVENGING OF LEONIDAS 426 + XL. THE SONG OF THE FURIES 438 + XLI. THE BRIGHTNESS OF HELIOS 445 + + + + + + + PROLOGUE + + + THE ISTHMIAN GAMES NEAR CORINTH + + + A VICTOR OF SALAMIS + + + + + CHAPTER I + + + GLAUCON THE BEAUTIFUL + + +The crier paused for the fifth time. The crowd--knotty Spartans, keen +Athenians, perfumed Sicilians--pressed his pulpit closer, elbowing for the +place of vantage. Amid a lull in their clamour the crier recommenced. + +"And now, men of Hellas, another time hearken. The sixth contestant in the +pentathlon, most honourable of the games held at the Isthmus, is Glaucon, +son of Conon the Athenian; his grandfather--" a jangling shout drowned him. + +"The most beautiful man in Hellas!" "But an effeminate puppy!" "Of the +noble house of Alcmaeon!" "The family's accursed!" "A great god helps +him--even Eros." "Ay--the fool married for mere love. He needs help. His +father disinherited him." + +"Peace, peace," urged the crier; "I'll tell all about him, as I have of +the others. Know then, my masters, that he loved, and won in marriage, +Hermione, daughter of Hermippus of Eleusis. Now Hermippus is Conon's +mortal enemy; therefore in great wrath Conon disinherited his son,--but +now, consenting to forgive him if he wins the parsley crown in the +pentathlon--" + +"A safe promise," interrupted a Spartan in broadest Doric; "the pretty boy +has no chance against Lycon, our Laconian giant." + +"Boaster!" retorted an Athenian. "Did not Glaucon bend open a horseshoe +yesterday?" + +"Our Moerocles did that," called a Mantinean; whereupon the crier, +foregoing his long speech on Glaucon's noble ancestry, began to urge the +Athenians to show their confidence by their wagers. + +"How much is staked that Glaucon can beat Ctesias of Epidaurus?" + +"We don't match our lion against mice!" roared the noisiest Athenian. + +"Or Amyntas of Thebes?" + +"Not Amyntas! Give us Lycon of Sparta." + +"Lycon let it be,--how much is staked and by whom, that Glaucon of Athens, +contending for the first time in the great games, defeats Lycon of Sparta, +twice victor at Nemea, once at Delphi, and once at Olympia?" + +The second rush and outcry put the crier nearly at his wits' end to record +the wagers that pelted him, and which testified how much confidence the +numerous Athenians had in their unproved champion. The brawl of voices +drew newcomers from far and near. The chariot race had just ended in the +adjoining hippodrome; and the idle crowd, intent on a new excitement, came +surging up like waves. In such a whirlpool of tossing arms and shoving +elbows, he who was small of stature and short of breath stood a scanty +chance of getting close enough to the crier's stand to have his wager +recorded. Such, at least, was the fate of a gray but dignified little man, +who struggled vainly--even with risk to his long linen chiton--to reach the +front. + +"Ugh! ugh! Make way, good people,--Zeus confound you, brute of a Spartan, +your big sandals crush my toes again! Can I never get near enough to place +my two minae on that Glaucon?" + +"Keep back, graybeard," snapped the Spartan; "thank the god if you can +hold your money and not lose it, when Glaucon's neck is wrung to-morrow." +Whereupon he lifted his own voice with, "Thirty drachmae to place on Lycon, +Master Crier! So you have it--" + +"And two minae on Glaucon," piped the little man, peering up with bright, +beady eyes; but the crier would never have heard him, save for a sudden +ally. + +"Who wants to stake on Glaucon?" burst in a hearty young Athenian who had +wagered already. "You, worthy sir? Then by Athena's owls they shall hear +you! Lend us your elbow, Democrates." + +The latter request was to a second young Athenian close by. With his +stalwart helpers thrusting at either side, the little man was soon close +to the crier. + +"Two minae?" quoth the latter, leaning, "two that Glaucon beats Lycon, and +at even odds? But your name, sir--" + +The little man straightened proudly. + +"Simonides of Ceos." + +The crowd drew back by magic. The most bristling Spartan grew respectful. +The crier bowed as his ready stylus made the entry. + +"Simonides of Ceos, Simonides the most noted poet in Hellas!" cried the +first of his two rescuers; "it's a great honour to have served so famous a +man. Pray let me take your hand." + +"With all the joy in the world." The little poet coloured with delight at +the flattery. "You have saved me, I avow, from the forge and anvil of +Hephaestus. What a vulgar mob! Do stand apart; then I can try to thank +you." + +Aided again by his two protectors, Simonides was soon clear of the +whirlpool. Under one of the graceful pines, which girded the long stadium, +he recovered breath and looked at leisure upon his new acquaintances. Both +were striking men, but in sharp contrast: the taller and darker showed an +aquiline visage betraying a strain of non-Grecian blood. His black eyes +and large mouth were very merry. He wore his green chiton with a +rakishness that proved him anything but a dandy. His companion, addressed +as Democrates, slighter, blonder, showed Simonides a handsome and truly +Greek profile, set off by a neatly trimmed reddish beard. His purple-edged +cloak fell in statuesque folds of the latest mode, his beryl signet-ring, +scarlet fillet, and jewelled girdle bespoke wealth and taste. His face, +too, might have seemed frank and affable, had not Simonides suddenly +recalled an old proverb about mistrusting a man with eyes too close +together. + +"And now," said the little poet, quite as ready to pay compliments as to +take them, "let me thank my noble deliverers, for I am sure two such +valorous young men as you must come of the best blood of Attica." + +"I am not ashamed of my father, sir," spoke the taller Athenian; "Hellas +has not yet forgotten Miltiades, the victor of Marathon." + +"Then I clasp the hand of Cimon, the son of the saviour of Hellas." The +little poet's eyes danced. "Oh! the pity I was in Thessaly so long, and +let you grow up in my absence. A noble son of a noble father! And your +friend--did you name him Democrates?" + +"I did so." + +"Fortunate old rascal I am! For I meet Cimon the son of Miltiades, and +Democrates, that young lieutenant of Themistocles who all the world knows +is gaining fame already as Nestor and Odysseus, both in one, among the +orators of Athens." + +"Your compliments exceed all truth," exclaimed the second Athenian, not at +all angered by the praise. But Simonides, whose tongue was brisk, ran on +with a torrent of flattery and of polite insinuation, until Cimon halted +him, with a query. + +"Yet why, dear Cean, since, as you say, you only arrived this afternoon at +the Isthmus, were you so anxious to stake that money on Glaucon?" + +"Why? Because I, like all Greece outside of Sparta, seem to be turning +Glaucon-mad. All the way from Thessaly--in Boeotia, in Attica, in Megara--men +talked of him, his beauty, his prowess, his quarrel with his father, his +marriage with Hermione, the divinest maiden in Athens, and how he has gone +to the games to win both the crown and crusty Conon's forgiveness. I tell +you, every mule-driver along the way seemed to have staked his obol on +him. They praise him as 'fair as Delian Apollo,' 'graceful as young +Hermes,' and--here I wonder most,--'modest as an unwedded girl.' " Simonides +drew breath, then faced the others earnestly, "You are Athenians; do you +know him?" + +"Know him?" Cimon laughed heartily; "have we not left him at the wrestling +ground? Was not Democrates his schoolfellow once, his second self to-day? +And touching his beauty, his valour, his modesty," the young man's eyes +shone with loyal enthusiasm, "do not say 'over-praised' till you have seen +him." + +Simonides swelled with delight. + +"Oh, lucky genius that cast me with you! Take me to him this moment." + +"He is so beset with admirers, his trainers are angry already; besides, he +is still at the wrestling ground." + +"But soon returns to his tents," added Democrates, instantly; "and +Simonides--is Simonides. If Themistocles and Leonidas can see Glaucon, so +must the first poet of Hellas." + +"O dearest orator," cried the little man, with an arm around his neck, "I +begin to love you already. Away this moment, that I may worship your new +divinity." + +"Come, then," commanded Cimon, leading off with strides so long the bard +could hardly follow; "his tent is not distant: you shall see him, though +the trainers change to Gorgons." + +The "Precinct of Poseidon," the great walled enclosure where were the +temples, porticos, and the stadium of the Isthmus, was quickly behind +them. They walked eastward along the sea-shore. The scene about was brisk +enough, had they heeded. A dozen chariots passed. Under every tall pine +along the way stood merchants' booths, each with a goodly crowd. Now a +herd of brown goats came, the offering of a pious Phocian; now a band of +Aphrodite's priestesses from Corinth whirled by in no overdecorous dance, +to a deafening noise of citharas and castanets. A soft breeze was sending +the brown-sailed fisher boats across the heaving bay. Straight before the +three spread the white stuccoed houses of Cenchraea, the eastern haven of +Corinth; far ahead in smooth semicircle rose the green crests of the +Argive mountains, while to their right upreared the steep lonely pyramid +of brown rock, Acro-Corinthus, the commanding citadel of the thriving +city. But above, beyond these, fairer than them all, spread the clear, +sun-shot azure of Hellas, the like whereof is not over any other land, +save as that land is girt by the crisp foam of the blue AEgean Sea. + +So much for the picture, but Simonides, having seen it often, saw it not +at all, but plied the others with questions. + +"So this Hermione of his is beautiful?" + +"Like Aphrodite rising from the sea foam." The answer came from +Democrates, who seemed to look away, avoiding the poet's keen glance. + +"And yet her father gave her to the son of his bitter enemy?" + +"Hermippus of Eleusis is sensible. It is a fine thing to have the +handsomest man in Hellas for son-in-law." + +"And now to the great marvel--did Glaucon truly seek her not for dowry, nor +rank, but for sheer love?" + +"Marriages for love are in fashion to-day," said Democrates, with a side +glance at Cimon, whose sister Elpinice had just made a love match with +Callias the Rich, to the scandal of all the prudes in Athens. + +"Then I meet marvels even in my old age. Another Odysseus and his +Penelope! And he is handsome, valiant, high-minded, with a wife his peer? +You raise my hopes too high. They will be dashed." + +"They will not," protested Democrates, with every sign of loyalty; "turn +here: this lane in the pines leads to his tent. If we have praised too +much, doom us to the labours of Tantalus." + +But here their progress was stopped. A great knot of people were swarming +about a statue under a pine tree, and shrill, angry voices proclaimed not +trafficking, but a brawl. + + + + + CHAPTER II + + + THE ATHLETE + + +There was ceaseless coming and going outside the Precinct of Poseidon. +Following much the same path just taken by Simonides and his new friends, +two other men were walking, so deep in talk that they hardly heeded how +many made respectful way for them, or how many greeted them. The taller +and younger man, to be sure, returned every salute with a graceful +flourish of his hands, but in a mechanical way, and with eye fixed on his +companion. + +The pair were markedly contrasted. The younger was in his early prime, +strong, well developed, and daintily dressed. His gestures were quick and +eloquent. His brown beard and hair were trimmed short to reveal a clear +olive face--hardly regular, but expressive and tinged with an extreme +subtilty. When he laughed, in a strange, silent way, it was to reveal fine +teeth, while his musical tongue ran on, never waiting for answer. + +His comrade, however, answered little. He barely rose to the other's +shoulder, but he had the chest and sinews of an ox. Graces there were +none. His face was a scarred ravine, half covered by scanty stubble. The +forehead was low. The eyes, gray and wise, twinkled from tufted eyebrows. +The long gray hair was tied about his forehead in a braid and held by a +golden circlet. The "chlamys" around his hips was purple but dirty. To his +companion's glib Attic he returned only Doric monosyllables. + +"Thus I have explained: if my plans prosper; if Corcyra and Syracuse send +aid; if Xerxes has trouble in provisioning his army, not merely can we +resist Persia, but conquer with ease. Am I too sanguine, Leonidas?" + +"We shall see." + +"No doubt Xerxes will find his fleet untrustworthy. The Egyptian sailors +hate the Phoenicians. Therefore we can risk a sea fight." + +"No rashness, Themistocles." + +"Yes--it is dicing against the Fates, and the stake is the freedom of +Hellas. Still a battle must be risked. If we quit ourselves bravely, our +names shall be remembered as long as Agamemnon's." + +"Or Priam's?--his Troy was sacked." + +"And you, my dear king of Sparta, will of course move heaven and earth to +have your Ephors and Council somewhat more forward than of late in +preparing for war? We all count on you." + +"I will try." + +"Who can ask more? But now make an end to statecraft. We were speaking +about the pentathlon and the chances of--" + +Here the same brawling voices that had arrested Simonides broke upon +Themistocles and Leonidas also. The cry "A fight!" was producing its +inevitable result. Scores of men, and those not the most aristocratic, +were running pell-mell whither so many had thronged already. In the +confusion scant reverence was paid the king of Sparta and the first +statesman of Athens, who were thrust unceremoniously aside and were barely +witnesses of what followed. + +The outcry was begun, after-report had it, by a Sicyonian bronze-dealer +finding a small but valuable lamp missing from the table whereon he showed +his wares. Among the dozen odd persons pressing about the booth his eye +singled out a slight, handsome boy in Oriental dress; and since Syrian +serving-lads were proverbially light-fingered, the Sicyonian jumped +quickly at his conclusion. + +"Seize the Barbarian thief!" had been his shout as he leaped and snatched +the alleged culprit's mantle. The boy escaped easily by the frailness of +his dress, which tore in the merchant's hands; but a score of bystanders +seized the fugitive and dragged him back to the Sicyonian, whose order to +"search!" would have been promptly obeyed; but at this instant he stumbled +over the missing lamp on the ground before the table, whence probably it +had fallen. The bronze-dealer was now mollified, and would willingly have +released the lad, but a Spartan bystander was more zealous. + +"Here's a Barbarian thief and spy!" he began bellowing; "he dropped the +lamp when he was detected! Have him to the temple and to the wardens of +the games!" + +The magic word "spy" let loose the tongues and passions of every man +within hearing. The unfortunate lad was seized again and jostled rudely, +while questions rattled over him like hailstones. + +"Whose slave are you? Why here? Where's your master? Where did you get +that outlandish dress and gold-laced turban? Confess, confess,--or it'll be +whipped out of you! What villany are you up to?" + +If the prisoner had understood Greek,--which was doubtful,--he could scarce +have comprehended this babel. He struggled vainly; tears started to his +eyes. Then he committed a blunder. Not attempting a protest, he thrust a +small hand into his crimson belt and drew forth a handful of gold as bribe +for release. + +"A slave with ten darics!" bawled the officious Spartan, never relaxing +his grip. "Hark you, friends, it's plain as day. Dexippus of Corinth has a +Syrian lad like this. The young scoundrel's robbed his master and is +running away." + +"That's it! A runaway! To the temple with him!" chimed a dozen. The +prisoner's outcries were drowned. He would have been swept off in ungentle +custody had not a strong hand intervened in his favor. + +"A moment, good citizens," called a voice in clear Attic. "Release this +lad. I know Dexippus's slave; he's no such fellow." + +The others, low-browed Spartans mostly, turned, ill-pleased at the +interruption of an Athenian, but shrank a step as a name went among them. + +"Castor and Pollux--it's Glaucon the Beautiful!" + +With two thrusts of impetuous elbows, the young man was at the assailed +lad's side. The newcomer was indeed a sight for gods. Beauty and power +seemed wholly met in a figure of perfect symmetry and strength. A face of +fine regularity, a chiselled profile, smooth cheeks, deep blue eyes, a +crown of closely cropped auburn hair, a chin neither weak nor stern, a +skin burnt brown by the sun of the wrestling schools--these were parts of +the picture, and the whole was how much fairer than any part! Aroused now, +he stood with head cast back and a scarlet cloak shaking gracefully from +his shoulders. + +"Unhand the lad!" he repeated. + +For a moment, compelled by his beauty, the Spartans yielded. The Oriental +pressed against his protector; but the affair was not to end so easily. + +"Hark you, Sir Athenian," rejoined the Spartan leader, "don't presume on +your good looks. Our Lycon will mar them all to-morrow. Here's Dexippus's +slave or else a Barbarian spy: in either case to the temple with him, and +don't you hinder." + +He plucked at the boy's girdle; but the athlete extended one slim hand, +seized the Spartan's arm, and with lightning dexterity laid the busybody +flat on Mother Earth. He staggered upward, raging and calling on his +fellows. + +"Sparta insulted by Athens! Vengeance, men of Lacedaemon! Fists! Fists!" + +The fate of the Oriental was forgotten in the storm of patriotic fury that +followed. Fortunately no one had a weapon. Half a dozen burly Laconians +precipitated themselves without concert or order upon the athlete. He was +hidden a moment in the rush of flapping gowns and tossing arms. Then like +a rock out of the angry sea shone his golden head, as he shook off the +attack. Two men were on their backs, howling. The others stood at +respectful distance, cursing and meditating another rush. An Athenian +pottery merchant from a neighbouring booth began trumpeting through his +hands. + +"Men of Athens, this way!" + +His numerous countrymen came scampering from far and wide. Men snatched up +stones and commenced snapping off pine boughs for clubs. The athlete, +centre of all this din, stood smiling, with his glorious head held high, +his eyes alight with the mere joy of battle. He held out his arms. Both +pose and face spoke as clearly as words,--"Prove me!" + +"Sparta is insulted. Away with the braggart!" the Laconians were +clamouring. The Athenians answered in kind. Already a dark sailor was +drawing a dirk. Everything promised broken heads, and perhaps blood, when +Leonidas and his friend,--by laying about them with their staves,--won their +way to the front. The king dashed his staff upon the shoulder of a +strapping Laconian who was just hurling himself on Glaucon. + +"Fools! Hold!" roared Leonidas, and the moment the throng saw what +newcomers they faced, Athenian and Spartan let their arms drop and stood +sheepish and silent. Themistocles instantly stepped forward and held up +his hand. His voice, trumpet-clear, rang out among the pines. In three +sentences he dissolved the tumult. + +"Fellow-Hellenes, do not let Dame Discord make sport of you. I saw all +that befell. It is only an unlucky misunderstanding. You are quite +satisfied, I am sure, Master Bronze-Dealer?" + +The Sicyonian, who saw in a riot the ruin of his evening's trade, nodded +gladly. + +"He says there was no thieving, and he is entirely satisfied. He thanks +you for your friendly zeal. The Oriental was not Dexippus's slave, and +Xerxes does not need such boys for spies. I am certain Glaucon would not +insult Sparta. So let us part without bad blood, and await the judgment of +the god in the contest to-morrow." + +Not a voice answered him. The crash of music from the sacrificial embassy +of Syracuse diverted everybody's attention; most of the company streamed +away to follow the flower-decked chariots and cattle back to the temple. +Themistocles and Leonidas were left almost alone to approach the athlete. + +"You are ever Glaucon the Fortunate," laughed Themistocles; "had we not +chanced this way, what would not have befallen?" + +"Ah, it was delightful," rejoined the athlete, his eyes still kindled; +"the shock, the striving, the putting one's own strength and will against +many and feeling 'I am the stronger.' " + +"Delightful, no doubt" replied the statesman, "though Zeus spare me +fighting one against ten! But what god possessed you to meddle in this +brawl, and imperil all chances for to-morrow?" + +"I was returning from practice at the palaestra. I saw the lad beset and +knew he was not Dexippus's slave. I ran to help him. I thought no more +about it." + +"And risked everything for a sly-eyed Oriental. Where is the rascal?" + +But the lad--author of the commotion--had disappeared completely. + +"Behold his fair gratitude to his rescuer," cried Themistocles, sourly, +and then he turned to Leonidas. "Well, very noble king of Sparta, you were +asking to see Glaucon and judge his chances in the pentathlon. Your +Laconians have just proved him; are you satisfied?" + +But the king, without a word of greeting, ran his eyes over the athlete +from head to heel, then blurted out his verdict: + +"Too pretty." + +Glaucon blushed like a maid. Themistocles threw up his hands in +deprecation. + +"But were not Achilles and many another hero beautiful as brave? Does not +Homer call them so many times 'godlike'?" + +"Poetry doesn't win the pentathlon," retorted the king; then suddenly he +seized the athlete's right arm near the shoulder. The muscles cracked. +Glaucon did not wince. The king dropped the arm with a "_Euge!_" then +extended his own hand, the fingers half closed, and ordered, "Open." + +One long minute, just as Simonides and his companions approached, Athenian +and Spartan stood face to face, hand locked in hand, while Glaucon's +forehead grew redder, not with blushing. Then blood rushed to the king's +brow also. His fingers were crimson. They had been forced open. + +"_Euge!_" cried the king, again; then, to Themistocles, "He will do." + +Whereupon, as if satisfied in his object and averse to further dalliance, +he gave Cimon and his companions the stiffest of nods and deliberately +turned on his heel. Speech was too precious coin for him to be wasted on +mere adieus. Only over his shoulder he cast at Glaucon a curt mandate. + +"I hate Lycon. Grind his bones." + +Themistocles, however, lingered a moment to greet Simonides. The little +poet was delighted, despite overweening hopes, at the manly beauty yet +modesty of the athlete, and being a man who kept his thoughts always near +his tongue, made Glaucon blush more manfully than ever. + +"Master Simonides is overkind," had ventured the athlete; "but I am sure +his praise is only polite compliment." + +"What misunderstanding!" ran on the poet. "How you pain me! I truly +desired to ask a question. Is it not a great delight to know that so many +people are gladdened just by looking on you?" + +"How dare I answer? If 'no,' I contradict you--very rude. If 'yes,' I +praise myself--far ruder." + +"Cleverly turned. The face of Paris, the strength of Achilles, the wit of +Periander, all met in one body;" but seeing the athlete's confusion more +profound than ever, the Cean cut short. "Heracles! if my tongue wounds +you, lo! it's clapped back in its sheath; I'll be revenged in an ode of +fifty iambs on your victory. For that you will conquer, neither I nor any +sane man in Hellas has the least doubt. Are you not confident, dear +Athenian?" + +"I am confident in the justice of the gods, noble Simonides," said the +athlete, half childishly, half in deep seriousness. + +"Well you may be. The gods are usually 'just' to such as you. It's we +graybeards that Tyche, 'Lady Fortune,' grows tired of helping." + +"Perhaps!" Glaucon passed his hand across his eyes with a dreamy gesture. +"Yet sometimes I almost say, 'Welcome a misfortune, if not too terrible,' +just to ward off the god's jealousy of too great prosperity. In all +things, save my father's anger, I have prospered. To-morrow I can appease +that, too. Yet you know Solon's saying, 'Call no man fortunate till he is +dead.' " + +Simonides was charmed at this frank confession on first acquaintance. +"Yes, but even one of the Seven Sages can err." + +"I do not know. I only hope--" + +"Hush, Glaucon," admonished Democrates. "There's no worse dinner before a +contest than one of flighty thoughts. When safe in Athens--" + +"In Eleusis you mean," corrected the athlete. + +"Pest take you," cried Cimon; "you say Eleusis because there is Hermione. +But make this day-dreaming end ere you come to grips with Lycon." + +"He will awaken," smiled Themistocles. Then, with another gracious nod to +Simonides, the statesman hastened after Leonidas, leaving the three young +men and the poet to go to Glaucon's tent in the pine grove. + +"And why should Leonidas wish Glaucon to grind the bones of the champion +of Sparta?" asked Cimon, curiously. + +"Quickly answered," replied Simonides, who knew half the persons of the +nobility in Hellas; "first, Lycon is of the rival kingly house at Sparta; +second, he's suspected of 'Medizing,' of favouring Persia." + +"I've heard that story of 'Medizing,' " interrupted Democrates, promptly; +"I can assure you it is not true." + +"Enough if he's suspected," cried the uncompromising son of Miltiades; +"honest Hellenes should not even be blown upon in times like this. Another +reason then for hating him--" + +"Peace!" ordered Glaucon, as if starting from a long revery, and with a +sweep of his wonderful hands; "let the Medes, the Persians, and their war +wait. For me the only war is the pentathlon,--and then by Zeus's favour the +victory, the glory, the return to Eleusis! Ah--wish me joy!" + +"Verily, the man is mad," reflected the poet; "he lives in his own bright +world, sufficient to himself. May Zeus never send storms to darken it! For +to bear disaster his soul seems never made." + + * * * * * * * + +At the tent Manes, the athlete's body-servant, came running to his master, +with a small box firmly bound. + +"A strange dark man brought this only a moment since. It is for Master +Glaucon." + +On opening there was revealed a bracelet of Egyptian turquoise; the price +thereof Simonides wisely set at two minae. Nothing betrayed the identity of +the giver save a slip of papyrus written in Greek, but in very uncertain +hand. "_To the Beautiful Champion of Athens: from one he has greatly +served._" + +Cimon held the bracelet on high, admiring its perfect lustre. + +"Themistocles was wrong," he remarked; "the Oriental was not ungrateful. +But what 'slave' or 'lad' was this that Glaucon succoured?" + +"Perhaps," insinuated Simonides, "Themistocles was wrong yet again. Who +knows if a stranger giving such gifts be not sent forth by Xerxes?" + +"Don't chatter foolishness," commanded Democrates, almost peevishly; but +Glaucon replaced the bracelet in the casket. + +"Since the god sends this, I will rejoice in it," he declared lightly. "A +fair omen for to-morrow, and it will shine rarely on Hermione's arm." The +mention of that lady called forth new protests from Cimon, but he in turn +was interrupted, for a half-grown boy had entered the tent and stood +beckoning to Democrates. + + + + + CHAPTER III + + + THE HAND OF PERSIA + + +The lad who sidled up to Democrates was all but a hunchback. His bare arms +were grotesquely tattooed, clear sign that he was a Thracian. His eyes +twinkled keenly, uneasily, as in token of an almost sinister intelligence. +What he whispered to Democrates escaped the rest, but the latter began +girding up his cloak. + +"You leave us, _philotate_?" cried Glaucon. "Would I not have all my +friends with me to-night, to fill me with fair thoughts for the morrow? +Bid your ugly Bias keep away!" + +"A greater friend than even Glaucon the Alcmaeonid commands me hence," said +the orator, smiling. + +"Declare his name." + +"Declare _her_ name," cried Simonides, viciously. + +"Noble Cean, then I say I serve a most beautiful, high-born dame. Her name +is Athens." + +"Curses on your public business," lamented Glaucon. "But off with you, +since your love is the love of us all." + +Democrates kissed the athlete on both cheeks. "I leave you to faithful +guardians. Last night I dreamed of a garland of lilies, sure presage of a +victory. So take courage." + +"_Chaire! chaire!_"(1) called the rest; and Democrates left the tent to +follow the slave-boy. + +Evening was falling: the sea, rocks, fields, pine groves, were touched by +the red glow dying behind Acro-Corinthus. Torches gleamed amid the trees +where the multitudes were buying, selling, wagering, making merry. All +Greece seemed to have sent its wares to be disposed of at the Isthmia. +Democrates idled along, now glancing at the huckster who displayed his +painted clay dolls and urged the sightseers to remember the little ones at +home. A wine-seller thrust a sample cup of a choice vintage under the +Athenian's nose, and vainly adjured him to buy. Thessalian easy-chairs, +pottery, slaves kidnapped from the Black Sea, occupied one booth after +another. On a pulpit before a bellowing crowd a pair of marionettes were +rolling their eyes and gesticulating, as a woman pulled the strings. + +But there were more exalted entertainments. A rhapsodist stood on a pine +stump chanting in excellent voice Alcaeus's hymn to Apollo. And more +willingly the orator stopped on the edge of a throng of the better sort, +which listened to a man of noble aspect reading in clear voice from his +scroll. + +"AEschylus of Athens," whispered a bystander. "He reads choruses of certain +tragedies he says he will perfect and produce much later." + +Democrates knew the great dramatist well, but what he read was new--a "Song +of the Furies" calling a terrific curse upon the betrayer of friendship. +"Some of his happiest lines," meditated Democrates, walking away, to be +held a moment by the crowd around Lamprus the master-harpist. But now, +feeling that he had dallied long enough, the orator turned his back on the +two female acrobats who were swinging on a trapeze and struck down a long, +straight road which led toward the distant cone of Acro-Corinthus. First, +however, he turned on Bias, who all the time had been accompanying, +dog-fashion. + +"You say he is waiting at Hegias's inn?" + +"Yes, master. It's by the temple of Bellerophon, just as you begin to +enter the city." + +"Good! I don't want to ask the way. Now catch this obol and be off." + +The boy snatched the flying coin and glided into the crowd. + +Democrates walked briskly out of the glare of the torches, then halted to +slip the hood of his cloak up about his face. + +"The road is dark, but the wise man shuns accidents," was his reflection, +as he strode in the direction pointed by Bias. + +The way was dark. No moon; and even the brilliant starlight of summer in +Hellas is an uncertain guide. Democrates knew he was traversing a long +avenue lined by spreading cypresses, with a shimmer of white from some +tall, sepulchral monument. Then through the dimness loomed the high +columns of a temple, and close beside it pale light spread out upon the +road as from an inn. + +"Hegias's inn," grumbled the Athenian. "Zeus grant it have no more fleas +than most inns of Corinth!" + +At sound of his footsteps the door opened promptly, without knocking. A +squalid scene revealed itself,--a white-washed room, an earthen floor, two +clay lamps on a low table, a few stools,--but a tall, lean man in Oriental +dress greeted the Athenian with a salaam which showed his own gold +earrings, swarthy skin, and black mustache. + +"Fair greetings, Hiram," spoke the orator, no wise amazed, "and where is +your master?" + +"At service," came a deep voice from a corner, so dark that Democrates had +not seen the couch where lolled an ungainly figure that now rose clumsily. + +"Hail, Democrates." + +"Hail, Lycon." + +Hand joined in hand; then Lycon ordered the Oriental to "fetch the noble +Athenian some good Thasian wine." + +"You will join me?" urged the orator. + +"Alas! no. I am still in training. Nothing but cheese and porridge till +after the victory to-morrow; but then, by Castor, I'll enjoy 'the +gentleman's disease'--a jolly drunkenness." + +"Then you are sure of victory to-morrow?" + +"Good Democrates, what god has tricked you into believing your fine +Athenian has a chance?" + +"I have seven minae staked on Glaucon." + +"Seven staked in the presence of your friends; how many in their absence?" + +Democrates reddened. He was glad the room was dark. "I am not here to +quarrel about the pentathlon," he said emphatically. + +"Oh, very well. Leave your dear sparrow to my gentle hands." The Spartan's +huge paws closed significantly: "Here's the wine. Sit and drink. And you, +Hiram, get to your corner." + +The Oriental silently squatted in the gloom, the gleam of his beady eyes +just visible. Lycon sat on a stool beside his guest, his Cyclops-like +limbs sprawling down upon the floor. Scarred and brutish, indeed, was his +face, one ear missing, the other beaten flat by boxing gloves; but +Democrates had a distinct feeling that under his battered visage and wiry +black hair lurked greater penetration of human motive and more ability to +play therewith than the chance observer might allow. The Athenian +deliberately waited his host's first move. + +"The wine is good, Democrates?" began Lycon. + +"Excellent." + +"I presume you have arranged your wagers to-morrow with your usual +prudence." + +"How do you know about them?" + +"Oh, my invaluable Hiram, who arranged this interview for us through Bias, +has made himself a brother to all the betting masters. I understand you +have arranged it so that whether Glaucon wins or loses you will be none +the poorer." + +The Athenian set down his cup. + +"Because I would not let my dear friend's sanguine expectations blind all +my judgment is no reason why you should seek this interview, Lycon," he +rejoined tartly. "If this is the object of your summons, I'm better back +in my own tent." + +Lycon tilted back against the table. His speech was nothing curt or +"Laconic"; it was even drawling. "On the contrary, dear Democrates, I was +only commending your excellent foresight, something that I see +characterizes all you do. You are the friend of Glaucon. Since Aristeides +has been banished, only Themistocles exceeds you in influence over the +Athenians. Therefore, as a loyal Athenian you must support your champion. +Likewise, as a man of judgment you must see that I--though this pentathlon +is only a by-play, not my business--will probably break your Glaucon's back +to-morrow. It is precisely this good judgment on your part which makes me +sure I do well to ask an interview--for something else." + +"Then quickly to business." + +"A few questions. I presume Themistocles to-day conferred with Leonidas?" + +"I wasn't present with them." + +"But in due time Themistocles will tell you everything?" + +Democrates chewed his beard, not answering. + +"_Pheu!_ you don't pretend Themistocles distrusts you?" cried the Spartan. + +"I don't like your questions, Lycon." + +"I am very sorry. I'll cease them. I only wished to-night to call to your +mind the advantage of two such men as you and I becoming friends. I may be +king of Lacedaemon before long." + +"I knew that before, but where's your chariot driving?" + +"Dear Athenian, the Persian chariot is now driving toward Hellas. We +cannot halt it. Then let us be so wise that it does not pass over us." + +"Hush!" Democrates spilled the cup as he started. "No 'Medizing' talk +before me. Am I not Themistocles's friend?" + +"Themistocles and Leonidas will seem valiant fools after Xerxes comes. Men +of foresight--" + +"Are never traitors." + +"Beloved Democrates," sneered the Spartan, "in one year the most patriotic +Hellene will be he who has made the Persian yoke the most endurable. Don't +blink at destiny." + +"Don't be overcertain." + +"Don't grow deaf and blind. Xerxes has been collecting troops these four +years. Every wind across the AEgean tells how the Great King assembles +millions of soldiers, thousands of ships: Median cavalry, Assyrian +archers, Egyptian battle-axemen--the best troops in the world. All the East +will be marching on our poor Hellas. And when has Persia failed to +conquer?" + +"At Marathon." + +"A drop of rain before the tempest! If Datis, the Persian general, had +only been more prudent!" + +"Clearly, noblest Lycon," said Democrates, with a satirical smile, "for a +taciturn Laconian to become thus eloquent for tyranny must have taken a +bribe of ten thousand gold darics." + +"But answer my arguments." + +"Well--the old oracle is proved: 'Base love of gain and naught else shall +bear sore destruction to Sparta.' " + +"That doesn't halt Xerxes's advance." + +"An end to your croakings,"--Democrates was becoming angry,--"I know the +Persian's power well enough. Now why have you summoned me?" + +Lycon looked on his visitor long and hard. He reminded the Athenian +disagreeably of a huge cat just considering whether a mouse were near +enough to risk a spring. + +"I sent for you because I wished you to give a pledge." + +"I'm in no mood to give it." + +"You need not refuse. Giving or withholding the fate of Hellas will not be +altered, save as you wish to make it so." + +"What must I promise?" + +"That you will not reveal the presence in Greece of a man I intend to set +before you." Another silence. Democrates knew even then, if vaguely, that +he was making a decision on which might hinge half his future. In the +after days he looked back on this instant with unspeakable regret. But the +Laconian sat before him, smiling, sneering, commanding by his more +dominant will. The Athenian answered, it seemed, despite himself:-- + +"If it is not to betray Hellas." + +"It is not." + +"Then I promise." + +"Swear it then by your native Athena." + +And Democrates--perhaps the wine was strong--lifted his right hand and swore +by Athena Polias of Athens he would betray no secret. + +Lycon arose with what was part bellow, part laugh. Even then the orator +was moved to call back the pledge, but the Spartan acted too swiftly. The +short moments which followed stamped themselves on Democrates's memory. +The flickering lamps, the squalid room, the long, dense shadows, the +ungainly movements of the Spartan, who was opening a door,--all this passed +after the manner of a vision. And as in a vision Democrates saw a stranger +stepping through the inner portal, as at Lycon's summons--a man of no huge +stature, but masterful in eye and mien. Another Oriental, but not as the +obsequious Hiram. Here was a lord to command and be obeyed. Gems flashed +from the scarlet turban, the green jacket was embroidered with pearls--and +was not half the wealth of Corinth in the jewels studding the sword hilt? +Tight trousers and high shoes of tanned leather set off a form supple and +powerful as a panther's. Unlike most Orientals the stranger was fair. A +blond beard swept his breast. His eyes were sharp, steel-blue. Never a +word spoke he; but Democrates looked on him with wide eyes, then turned +almost in awe to the Spartan. + +"This is a prince--" he began. + +"His Highness Prince Abairah of Cyprus," completed Lycon, rapidly, "now +come to visit the Isthmian Games, and later your Athens. It is for this I +have brought you face to face--that he may be welcome in your city." + +The Athenian cast at the stranger a glance of keenest scrutiny. He knew by +every instinct in his being that Lycon was telling a barefaced lie. Why he +did not cry out as much that instant he hardly himself knew. But the gaze +of the "Cyprian" pierced through him, fascinating, magnetizing, and +Lycon's great hand was on his victim's shoulder. The "Cyprian's" own hand +went out seeking Democrates's. + +"I shall be very glad to see the noble Athenian in his own city. His fame +for eloquence and prudence is already in Tyre and Babylon," spoke the +stranger, never taking his steel-blue eyes from the orator's face. The +accent was Oriental, but the Greek was fluent. The prince--for prince he +was, whatever his nation--pressed his hand closer. Almost involuntarily +Democrates's hand responded. They clasped tightly; then, as if Lycon +feared a word too much, the unknown released his hold, bowed with +inimitable though silent courtesy, and was gone behind the door whence he +had come. + +It had taken less time than men use to count a hundred. The latch clicked. +Democrates gazed blankly on the door, then turned on Lycon with a start. + +"Your wine was strong. You have bewitched me. What have I done? By Zeus of +Olympus--I have given my hand in pledge to a Persian spy." + +" 'A prince of Cyprus'--did you not hear me?" + +"Cerberus eat me if that man has seen Cyprus. No Cyprian is so blond. The +man is Xerxes's brother." + +"We shall see, friend; we shall see: 'Day by day we grow old, and day by +day we grow wiser.' So your own Solon puts it, I think." + +Democrates drew himself up angrily. "I know my duty; I'll denounce you to +Leonidas." + +"You gave a pledge and oath." + +"It were a greater crime to keep than to break it." + +Lycon shrugged his huge shoulders. "_Eu!_ I hardly trusted to that. But I +do trust to Hiram's pretty story about your bets, and still more to a tale +that's told about where and how you've borrowed money." + +Democrates's voice shook either with rage or with fear when he made shift +to answer. + +"I see I've come to be incriminated and insulted. So be it. If I keep my +pledge, at least suffer me to wish you and your 'Cyprian' a very good +night." + +Lycon good-humouredly lighted him to the door. "Why so hot? I'll do you a +service to-morrow. If Glaucon wrestles with me, I shall kill him." + +"Shall I thank the murderer of my friend?" + +"Even when that friend has wronged you?" + +"Silence! What do you mean?" + +Even in the flickering lamplight Democrates could see the Spartan's evil +smile. + +"Of course--Hermione." + +"Silence, by the infernal gods! Who are you, Cyclops, for _her_ name to +cross your teeth?" + +"I'm not angry. Yet you will thank me to-morrow. The pentathlon will be +merely a pleasant flute-playing before the great war-drama. You will see +more of the 'Cyprian' at Athens--" + +Democrates heard no more. Forth from that wine-house he ran into the +sheltering night, till safe under the shadow of the black cypresses. His +head glowed. His heart throbbed. He had been partner in foulest treason. +Duty to friend, duty to country,--oath or no oath,--should have sent him to +Leonidas. What evil god had tricked him into that interview? Yet he did +not denounce the traitor. Not his oath held him back, but benumbing +fear,--and what sting lay back of Lycon's hints and threats the orator knew +best. And how if Lycon made good his boast and killed Glaucon on the +morrow? + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + + THE PENTATHLON + + +In a tent at the lower end of the long stadium stood Glaucon awaiting the +final summons to his ordeal. His friends had just cried farewell for the +last time: Cimon had kissed him; Themistocles had gripped his hand; +Democrates had called "Zeus prosper you!" Simonides had vowed that he was +already hunting for the metres of a triumphal ode. The roar from without +told how the stadium was filled with its chattering thousands. The +athlete's trainers were bestowing their last officious advice. + +"The Spartan will surely win the quoit-throw. Do not be troubled. In +everything else you can crush him." + +"Beware of Moerocles of Mantinea. He's a knavish fellow; his backers are +recalling their bets. But he hopes to win on a trick; beware, lest he trip +you in the foot-race." + +"Aim low when you hurl the javelin. Your dart always rises." + +Glaucon received this and much more admonition with his customary smile. +There was no flush on the forehead, no flutter of the heart. A few hours +later he would be crowned with all the glory which victory in the great +games could throw about a Hellene, or be buried in the disgrace to which +his ungenerous people consigned the vanquished. But, in the words of his +day, "he knew himself" and his own powers. From the day he quitted boyhood +he had never met the giant he could not master; the Hermes he could not +outrun. He anticipated victory as a matter of course, even victory wrested +from Lycon, and his thoughts seemed wandering far from the tawny track +where he must face his foes. + +"Athens,--my father,--my wife! I will win glory for them all!" was the drift +of his revery. + +The younger rubber grunted under breath at his athlete's vacant eye, but +Pytheas, the older of the pair, whispered confidently that "when he had +known Master Glaucon longer, he would know that victories came his way, +just by reaching out his hands." + +"Athena grant it," muttered the other. "I've got my half mina staked on +him, too." Then from the tents at either side began the ominous call of +the heralds:-- + +"Amyntas of Thebes, come you forth." + +"Ctesias of Epidaurus, come you forth." + +"Lycon of Sparta, come you forth." + +Glaucon held out his hands. Each trainer seized one. + +"Wish me joy and honour, good friends!" cried the athlete. + +"Poseidon and Athena aid you!" And Pytheas's honest voice was husky. This +was the greatest ordeal of his favourite pupil, and the trainer's soul +would go with him into the combat. + +"Glaucon of Athens, come you forth." + +The curtains of the tent swept aside. An intense sunlight sprang to meet +the Athenian. He passed into the arena clad only in his coat of glistering +oil. Scolus of Thasos and Moerocles of Mantinea joined the other four +athletes; then, escorted each by a herald swinging his myrtle wand, the +six went down the stadium to the stand of the judges. + +Before the fierce light of a morning in Hellas beating down on him, +Glaucon the Alcmaeonid was for an instant blinded, and walked on passively, +following his guide. Then, as from a dissolving mist, the huge stadium +began to reveal itself: line above line, thousand above thousand of +bright-robed spectators, a sea of faces, tossing arms, waving garments. A +thunderous shout rose as the athletes came to view,--jangling, incoherent; +each city cheered its champion and tried to cry down all the rest: +applause, advice, derision. Glaucon heard the derisive hootings, "pretty +girl," "pretty pullet," from the serried host of the Laconians along the +left side of the stadium; but an answering salvo, "Dog of Cerberus!" +bawled by the Athenian crowds opposite, and winged at Lycon, returned the +taunts with usury. As the champions approached the judges' stand a +procession of full twenty pipers, attended by as many fair boys in flowing +white, marched from the farther end of the stadium to meet them. The boys +bore cymbals and tambours; the pipers struck up a brisk marching note in +the rugged Dorian mode. The boys' lithe bodies swayed in enchanting +rhythm. The roaring multitude quieted, admiring their grace. The champions +and the pipers thus came to the pulpit in the midst of the long arena. The +president of the judges, a handsome Corinthian in purple and a golden +fillet, swept his ivory wand from right to left. The marching note ceased. +The whole company leaped as one man to its feet. The pipes, the cymbals +were drowned, whilst twenty thousand voices--Doric, Boeotian, Attic--chorused +together the hymn which all Greece knew: the hymn to Poseidon of the +Isthmus, august guardian of the games. + +Louder it grew; the multitude found one voice, as if it would cry, "We are +Hellenes all; though of many a city, the same fatherland, the same gods, +the same hope against the Barbarian." + + "Praise we Poseidon the mighty, the monarch, + Shaker of earth and the harvestless sea; + King of wide AEgae and Helicon gladsome + Twain are the honours high Zeus sheds on thee! + Thine to be lord of the mettlesome chargers, + Thine to be lord of swift ships as they wing! + Guard thou and guide us, dread prince of the billows, + Safe to their homeland, thy suppliants bring; + Faring by land or by clamorous waters + Be thou their way-god to shield, to defend, + Then shall the smoke of a thousand glad altars, + To thee in reverent gladness ascend!" + +Thus in part. And in the hush thereafter the president poured a libation +from a golden cup, praying, as the wine fell on the brazier beside him, to +the "Earth Shaker," seeking his blessing upon the contestants, the +multitude, and upon broad Hellas. Next the master-herald announced that +now, on the third day of the games, came the final and most honoured +contest: the pentathlon, the fivefold struggle, with the crown to him who +conquered thrice. He proclaimed the names of the six rivals, their cities, +their ancestry, and how they had complied with the required training. The +president took up his tale, and turning to the champions, urged them to +strive their best, for the eyes of all Hellas were on them. But he warned +any man with blood-guiltiness upon his soul not to anger the gods by +continuing in the games. + +"But since," the brief speech concluded, "these men have chosen to +contend, and have made oath that they are purified or innocent, let them +join, and Poseidon shed fair glory upon the best!" + +More shouting; the pipers paraded the arena, blowing shriller than ever. +Some of the athletes shifted uneasily. Scolus the Thasian--youngest of the +six--was pale, and cast nervous glances at the towering bulk of Lycon. The +Spartan gave him no heed, but threw a loud whisper at Glaucon, who stood +silently beside him:-- + +"By Castor, son of Conon, you are extremely handsome. If fine looks won +the battle, I might grow afraid." + +The Athenian, whose roving eye had just caught Cimon and Democrates in the +audience, seemed never to hear him. + +"And you are passing stalwart. Still, be advised. I wouldn't harm you, so +drop out early." + +Still no answer from Glaucon, whose clear eye seemed now to be wandering +over the bare hills of Megara beyond. + +"No answer?" persisted the giant. "_Eu!_ don't complain that you've lacked +warning, when you sit to-night in Charon's ferry-boat." + +The least shadow of a smile flitted across the Athenian's face; there was +a slight deepening of the light in his eye. He turned his head a bit +toward Lycon:-- + +"The games are not ended, dear Spartan," he observed quietly. + +The giant scowled. "I don't like you silent, smiling men! You're warned. +I'll do my worst--" + +"Let the leaping begin!" rang the voice of the president,--a call that +changed all the uproar to a silence in which one might hear the wind +moving in the firs outside, while every athlete felt his muscles tighten. + +The heralds ran down the soft sands to a narrow mound of hardened earth, +and beckoned to the athletes to follow. In the hands of each contestant +were set a pair of bronze dumb-bells. The six were arrayed upon the mound +with a clear reach of sand before. The master-herald proclaimed the order +of the leaping: that each contestant should spring twice, and he whose +leaps were the poorest should drop from the other contests. + +Glaucon stood, his golden head thrown back, his eyes wandering idly toward +his friends in the stadium. He could see Cimon restless on his seat, and +Simonides holding his cloak and doubtless muttering wise counsel. The +champion was as calm as his friends were nervous. The stadium had grown +oppressively still; then broke into along "ah!" Twenty thousand sprang up +together as Scolus the Thasian leaped. His partisans cheered, while he +rose from a sand-cloud; but ceased quickly. His leap had been poor. A +herald with a pick marked a line where he had landed. The pipers began a +rollicking catch to which the athletes involuntarily kept time with their +dumb-bells. + +Glaucon leaped second. Even the hostile Laconians shouted with pleasure at +sight of his beautiful body poised, then flung out upon the sands far +beyond the Thasian. He rose, shook off the dust, and returned to the +mound, with a graceful gesture to the cheer that greeted him; but wise +heads knew the contest was just beginning. + +Ctesias and Amyntas leaped beyond the Thasian's mark, short of the +Athenian's. Lycon was fifth. His admirers' hopes were high. He did not +blast them. Huge was his bulk, yet his strength matched it. A cloud of +dust hid him from view. When it settled, every Laconian was roaring with +delight. He had passed beyond Glaucon. Moerocles of Mantinea sprang last +and badly. The second round was almost as the first; although Glaucon +slightly surpassed his former effort. Lycon did as well as before. The +others hardly bettered their early trial. It was long before the Laconians +grew quiet enough to listen to the call of the herald. + +"Lycon of Sparta wins the leaping. Glaucon of Athens is second. Scolus of +Thasos leaps the shortest and drops from the pentathlon." + +Again cheers and clamour. The inexperienced Thasian marched disconsolately +to his tent, pursued by ungenerous jeers. + +"The quoit-hurling follows," once more the herald; "each contestant throws +three quoits. He who throws poorest drops from the games." + +Cimon had risen now. In a momentary lull he trumpeted through his hands +across the arena. + +"Wake, Glaucon; quit your golden thoughts of Eleusis; Lycon is filching +the crown." + +Themistocles, seated near Cimon's side, was staring hard, elbows on knees +and head on hands. Democrates, next him, was gazing at Glaucon, as if the +athlete were made of gold; but the object of their fears and hopes gave +back neither word nor sign. + +The attendants were arraying the five remaining champions at the foot of a +little rise in the sand, near the judges' pulpit. To each was brought a +bronze quoit, the discus. The pipers resumed their medley. The second +contest was begun. + +First, Amyntas of Thebes. He took his stand, measured the distance with +his eye, then with a run flew up the rising, and at its summit his body +bent double, while the heavy quoit flew away. A noble cast! and twice +excelled. For a moment every Theban in the stadium was transported. +Strangers sitting together fell on one another's necks in sheer joy. But +the rapture ended quickly. Lycon flung second. His vast strength could now +tell to the uttermost. He was proud to display it. Thrice he hurled. +Thrice his discus sped out as far as ever man had seen a quoit fly in +Hellas. Not even Glaucon's best wishers were disappointed when he failed +to come within three cubits of the Spartan. Ctesias and Moerocles realized +their task was hopeless, and strove half heartedly. The friends of the +huge Laconian were almost beside themselves with joy; while the herald +called desperately that:-- + +"Lycon of Sparta wins with the discus. Glaucon of Athens is second. +Ctesias of Epidaurus throws poorest and drops from the games." + +"Wake, Glaucon!" trumpeted Cimon, again his white face shining out amid +the thousands of gazers now. "Wake, or Lycon wins again and all is lost!" + +Glaucon was almost beyond earshot; to the frantic entreaty he answered by +no sign. As he and the Spartan stood once more together, the giant leered +on him civilly:-- + +"You grow wise, Athenian. It's honour enough and to spare to be second, +with Lycon first. _Eu!_--and here's the last contest." + +"I say again, good friend,"--there was a slight closing of the Athenian's +lips, and deepening in his eyes,--"the pentathlon is not ended." + +"The harpies eat you, then, if you get too bold! The herald is calling for +the javelin-casting. Come,--it's time to make an end." + +But in the deep hush that spread again over the thousands Glaucon turned +toward the only faces that he saw out of the innumerable host: +Themistocles, Democrates, Simonides, Cimon. They beheld him raise his arm +and lift his glorious head yet higher. Glaucon in turn saw Cimon sink into +his seat. "He wakes!" was the appeased mutter passing from the son of +Miltiades and running along every tier of Athenians. And silence deeper +than ever held the stadium; for now, with Lycon victor twice, the literal +turning of a finger in the next event might win or lose the parsley crown. + +The Spartan came first. The heralds had set a small scarlet shield at the +lower end of the course. Lycon poised his light javelin thrice, and thrice +the slim dart sped through the leathern thong on his fingers. But not for +glory. Perchance this combat was too delicate an art for his ungainly +hands. Twice the missile lodged in the rim of the shield; once it sprang +beyond upon the sand. Moerocles, who followed, surpassed him. Amyntas was +hardly worse. Glaucon came last, and won his victory with a dexterous +grace that made all but the hottest Laconian swell the "_Io! paian!_" of +applause. His second cast had been into the centre of the target. His +third had splintered his second javelin as it hung quivering. + +"Glaucon of Athens wins the javelin-casting. Moerocles of Mantinea is +second. Amyntas of Thebes is poorest and drops from the games." But who +heard the herald now? + +By this time all save the few Mantineans who vainly clung to their +champion, and the Laconians themselves, had begun to pin their hopes on +the beautiful son of Conon. There was a steely glint in the Spartan +athlete's eye that made the president of the games beckon to the +master-herald. + +"Lycon is dangerous. See that he does not do Glaucon a mischief, or +transgress the rules." + +"I can, till they come to the wrestling." + +"In that the god must aid the Athenian. But now let us have the +foot-race." + +In the little respite following the trainers entered and rubbed down the +three remaining contestants with oil until their bodies shone again like +tinted ivory. Then the heralds conducted the trio to the southern end +farthest from the tents. The two junior presidents left their pulpit and +took post at either end of a line marked on the sand. Each held the end of +a taut rope. The contestants drew lots from an urn for the place nearest +the lower turning goal,--no trifling advantage. A favouring god gave +Moerocles the first; Lycon was second; Glaucon only third. As the three +crouched before the rope with hands dug into the sand, waiting the fateful +signal, Glaucon was conscious that a strange blond man of noble mien and +Oriental dress was sitting close by the starting line and watching him +intently. + +It was one of those moments of strain, when even trifles can turn the +overwrought attention. Glaucon knew that the stranger was looking from him +to Lycon, from Lycon back to himself, measuring each with shrewd eye. Then +the gaze settled on the Athenian. The Oriental called to him:-- + +"Swift, godlike runner, swift;"--they were so close they could catch the +Eastern accent--"the Most High give you His wings!" + +Glaucon saw Lycon turn on the shouter with a scowl that was answered by a +composed smile. To the highly strung imagination of the Athenian the wish +became an omen of good. For some unknown cause the incident of the +Oriental lad he rescued and the mysterious gift of the bracelet flashed +back to him. Why should a stranger of the East cast him fair wishes? Would +the riddle ever be revealed? + +A trumpet blast. The Oriental, his wish, all else save the tawny track, +flashed from Glaucon's mind. The rope fell. The three shot away as one. + +Over the sand they flew, moving by quick leaps, their shining arms +flashing to and fro in fair rhythm. Twice around the stadium led the race, +so no one strained at first. For a while the three clung together, until +near the lower goal the Mantinean heedlessly risked a dash. His foot +slipped on the sands. He recovered; but like arrows his rivals passed him. +At the goal the inevitable happened. Lycon, with the shorter turn, swung +quickest. He went up the homeward track ahead, the Athenian an elbow's +length behind. The stadium seemed dissolving in a tumult. Men rose; threw +garments in the air; stretched out their arms; besought the gods; screamed +to the runners. + +"Speed, son of Conon, speed!" + +"Glory to Castor; Sparta is prevailing!" + +"Strive, Mantinean,--still a chance!" + +"Win the turn, dear Athenian, the turn, and leave that Cyclops behind!" + +But at the upper turn Lycon still held advantage, and down the other track +went the twain, even as Odysseus ran behind Ajax, "who trod in Ajax' +footsteps ere ever the dust had settled, while on his head fell the breath +of him behind." Again at the lower goal the Mantinean was panting wearily +in the rear. Again Lycon led, again rose the tempest of voices. Six +hundred feet away the presidents were stretching the line, where victory +and the plaudits of Hellas waited Lycon of Lacedaemon. + +Then men ceased shouting, and prayed under breath. They saw Glaucon's +shoulders bend lower and his neck strain back, while the sunlight sprang +all over his red-gold hair. The stadium leaped to their feet, as the +Athenian landed by a bound at his rival's side. Quick as the bound the +great arm of the Spartan flew out with its knotted fist. A deadly stroke, +and shunned by a hair's-breadth; but it was shunned. The senior president +called angrily to the herald; but none heard his words in the rending din. +The twain shot up the track elbow to elbow, and into the rope. It fell +amid a blinding cloud of dust. All the heralds and presidents ran together +into it. Then was a long, agonizing moment, while the stadium roared, +shook, and raged, before the dust settled and the master-herald stood +forth beckoning for silence. + +"Glaucon of Athens wins the foot-race. Lycon of Sparta is second. Moerocles +of Mantinea drops from the contest. Glaucon and Lycon, each winning twice, +shall wrestle for the final victory." + +And now the stadium grew exceeding still. Men lifted their hands to their +favourite gods, and made reckless, if silent, vows,--geese, pigs, tripods, +even oxen,--if only the deity would strengthen their favourite's arm. For +the first time attention was centred on the tall "time pointer," by the +judges' stand, and how the short shadow cast by the staff told of the end +of the morning. The last wagers were recorded on the tablets by nervous +styluses. The readiest tongues ceased to chatter. Thousands of wistful +eyes turned from the elegant form of the Athenian to the burly form of the +Spartan. Every outward chance, so many an anxious heart told itself, +favoured the oft-victorious giant; but then,--and here came reason for a +true Hellene,--"the gods could not suffer so fair a man to meet defeat." +The noonday sun beat down fiercely. The tense stillness was now and then +broken by the bawling of a swarthy hawker thrusting himself amid the +spectators with cups and a jar of sour wine. There was a long rest. The +trainers came forward again and dusted the two remaining champions with +sand that they might grip fairly. Pytheas looked keenly in his pupil's +face. + +" 'Well begun is half done,' my lad; but the hottest battle is still +before," said he, trying to cover his own consuming dread. + +"Faint heart never won a city," smiled Glaucon, as if never more at ease; +and Pytheas drew back happier, seeing the calm light in the athlete's +eyes. + +"Ay," he muttered to his fellow-trainer, "all is well. The boy has +wakened." + +But now the heralds marched the champions again to the judges. The +president proclaimed the rules of the wrestling,--two casts out of three +gave victory. In lower tone he addressed the scowling Spartan:-- + +"Lycon, I warn you: earn the crown only fairly, if you would earn it. Had +that blow in the foot-race struck home, I would have refused you victory, +though you finished all alone." + +A surly nod was the sole answer. + +The heralds led the twain a little way from the judges' stand, and set +them ten paces asunder and in sight of all the thousands. The heralds +stood, crossing their myrtle wands between. The president rose on his +pulpit, and called through the absolute hush:-- + +"Prepared, Spartan?" + +"Yes." + +"Prepared, Athenian?" + +"Yes." + +"Then Poseidon shed glory on the best!" + +His uplifted wand fell. A clear shrill trumpet pealed. The heralds bounded +back in a twinkling. In that twinkling the combatants leaped into each +other's arms. A short grapple; again a sand cloud; and both were rising +from the ground. They had fallen together. Heated by conflict, they were +locked again ere the heralds could proclaim a tie. Cimon saw the great +arms of the Spartan twine around the Athenian's chest in fair grapple, but +even as Lycon strove with all his bull-like might to lift and throw, +Glaucon's slim hand glided down beneath his opponent's thigh. Twice the +Spartan put forth all his powers. Those nearest watched the veins of the +athletes swell and heard their hard muscles crack. The stadium was in +succession hushed and tumultuous. Then, at the third trial, even as Lycon +seemed to have won his end, the Athenian smote out with one foot. The +sands were slippery. The huge Laconian lunged forward, and as he lunged, +his opponent by a masterly effort tore himself loose. The Spartan fell +heavily,--vanquished by a trick, though fairly used. + +The stadium thundered its applause. More vows, prayers, exhortations. +Glaucon stood and received all the homage in silence. A little flush was +on his forehead. His arms and shoulders were very red. Lycon rose slowly. +All could hear his rage and curses. The heralds ordered him to contain +himself. + +"Now, fox of Athens," rang his shout, "I will kill you!" + +Pytheas, beholding his fury, tore out a handful of hair in his mingled +hope and dread. No man knew better than the trainer that no trick would +conquer Lycon this second time; and Glaucon the Fair might be nearer the +fields of Asphodel than the pleasant hills by Athens. More than one man +had died in the last ordeal of the pentathlon. + +The silence was perfect. Even the breeze had hushed while Glaucon and +Lycon faced again. The twenty thousand sat still as in their sepulchres, +each saying in his heart one word--"Now!" If in the first wrestling the +attack had been impetuous, it was now painfully deliberate. When the +heralds' wands fell, the two crept like mighty cats across the narrow +sands, frames bent, hands outstretched, watching from the corners of their +eyes a fair chance to rush in and grapple. Then Lycon, whose raging spirit +had the least control, charged. Another dust cloud. When it cleared, the +two were locked together as by iron. + +For an instant they swayed, whilst the Spartan tried again his brute +power. It failed him. Glaucon drew strength from the earth like Antaeus. +The hushed stadium could hear the pants of the athletes as they locked +closer, closer. Strength failing, the Spartan snatched at his enemy's +throat; but the Athenian had his wrist gripped fast before the clasp could +tighten, and in the melee Glaucon's other hand passed beneath Lycon's +thigh. The two seemed deadlocked. For a moment they grinned face to face, +almost close enough to bite each other's lips. But breath was too precious +for curses. The Spartan flung his ponderous weight downward. A slip in the +gliding sand would have ruined the Athenian instantly; but Poseidon or +Apollo was with him. His feet dug deep, and found footing. Lycon drew back +baffled, though the clutches of their hands were tightening like vices of +steel. Then again face to face, swaying to and fro, panting, muttering, +while the veins in the bare backs swelled still more. + +"He cannot endure it. He cannot! Ah! Athena Polias, pity him! Lycon is +wearing him down," moaned Pytheas, beside himself with fear, almost +running to Glaucon's aid. + +The stadium resumed its roaring. A thousand conflicting prayers, hopes, +counsels, went forth to the combatants. The gods of Olympus and Hades; all +demigods, heroes, satyrs, were invoked for them. They were besought to +conquer in the name of parents, friends, and native land. Athenians and +Laconians, sitting side by side, took up the combat, grappling fiercely. +And all this time the two strove face to face. + +How long had it lasted? Who knew? Least of all that pair who wrestled +perchance for life and for death. Twice again the Spartan strove with his +weight to crush his opponent down. Twice vainly. He could not close his +grip around the Athenian's throat. He had looked to see Glaucon sink +exhausted; but his foe still looked on him with steadfast, unweakening +eyes. The president was just bidding the heralds, "Pluck them asunder and +declare a tie!" when the stadium gave a shrill long shout. Lycon had +turned to his final resource. Reckless of his own hurt, he dashed his iron +forehead against the Athenian's, as bull charges bull. Twice and three +times, and the blood leaped out over Glaucon's fair skin. Again--the rush +of blood was almost blinding. Again--Pytheas screamed with agony--the +Athenian's clutch seemed weakening. Again--flesh and blood could not stand +such battering long. If Lycon could endure this, there was only one end to +the pentathlon. + +"Help thou me, Athena of the Gray Eyes! For the glory of Athens, my +father, my wife!" + +The cry of Glaucon--half prayer, half battle-shout--pealed above the +bellowing stadium. Even as he cried it, all saw his form draw upward as +might Prometheus's unchained. They saw the fingers of the Spartan unclasp. +They saw his bloody face upturned and torn with helpless agony. They saw +his great form totter, topple, fall. The last dust cloud, and into it the +multitude seemed rushing together.... + +... They caught Glaucon just as he fell himself. Themistocles was the +first to kiss him. Little Simonides wept. Cimon, trying to embrace the +victor, hugged in the confusion a dirty Plataean. Democrates seemed lost in +the whirlpool, and came with greetings later. Perhaps he had stopped to +watch that Oriental who had given Glaucon good wishes in the foot-race. +The fairest praise, however, was from a burly man, who merely held out his +hand and muttered, "Good!" But this was from Leonidas. + + * * * * * * * + +Very late a runner crowned with pink oleanders panted up to the Athenian +watch by Mount Icarus at the custom-house on the Megarian frontier. + +"_Nika!_--He conquers." + +The man fell breathless; but in a moment a clear beacon blazed upon the +height. From a peak in Salamis another answered. In Eleusis, Hermippus the +Noble was running to his daughter. In Peiraeus, the harbour-town, the +sailor folk were dancing about the market-place. In Athens, archons, +generals, and elders were accompanying Conon to the Acropolis to give +thanks to Athena. Conon had forgotten how he had disowned his son. Another +beacon glittered from the Acropolis. Another flashed from the lordly crest +of Pentelicus, telling the news to all Attica. There was singing in the +fishers' boats far out upon the bay. In the goat-herds' huts on dark +Hymethus the pan-pipes blew right merrily. Athens spent the night in +almost drunken joy. One name was everywhere:-- + +"Glaucon the Beautiful who honours us all! Glaucon the Fortunate whom the +High Gods love!" + + + + + + BOOK I + + + THE SHADOW OF THE PERSIAN + + + + + CHAPTER V + + + HERMIONE OF ELEUSIS + + +A cluster of white stuccoed houses with a craggy hill behind, and before +them a blue bay girt in by the rocky isle of Salamis--that is +Eleusis-by-the-Sea. Eastward and westward spreads the teeming Thrasian +plain, richest in Attica. Behind the plain the encircling mountain wall +fades away into a purple haze. One can look southward toward Salamis; then +to the left rises the rounded slope of brown Poecilon sundering Eleusis +from its greater neighbour, Athens. Look behind: there is a glimpse of the +long violet crests of Cithaeron and Parnes, the barrier mountains against +Boeotia. Look to right: beyond the summits of Megara lifts a noble cone. It +is an old friend, Acro-Corinthus. The plain within the hills is sprinkled +with thriving farmsteads, green vineyards, darker olive groves. The stony +hill-slopes are painted red by countless poppies. One hears the tinkling +of the bells of roving goats. Thus the more distant view; while at the +very foot of the hill of vision rises a temple with proud columns and +pediments,--the fane of Demeter the "Earth Mother" and the seat of her +Mysteries, renowned through Hellas. + +The house of Hermippus the Eumolpid, first citizen of Eleusis, stood to +the east of the temple. On three sides gnarled trunks and sombre leaves of +the sacred olives almost hid the white low walls of the rambling +buildings. On the fourth side, facing the sea, the dusty road wound east +toward Megara. Here, by the gate, were gathered a rustic company: +brown-faced village lads and lasses, toothless graybeards, cackling old +wives. Above the barred gate swung a festoon of ivy, whilst from within +the court came the squeaking of pipes, the tuning of citharas, and shouted +orders--signs of a mighty bustling. Then even while the company grew, a +half-stripped courier flew up the road and into the gate. + +"They come," ran the wiseacre's comment; but their buzzing ceased, as +again the gate swung back to suffer two ladies to peer forth. Ladies, in +the truth, for the twain had little in common with the ogling village +maids, and whispers were soon busy with them. + +"Look--his wife and her mother! How would you, Praxinoe, like to marry an +Isthmionices?" + +"Excellently well, but your Hermas won't so honour you." + +"_Eu!_ see, she lifts her pretty blue veil; I'm glad she's handsome. Some +beautiful men wed regular hags." + +The two ladies were clearly mother and daughter, of the same noble height, +and dressed alike in white. Both faces were framed in a flutter of Amorgos +gauze: the mother's was saffron, crowned with a wreath of golden +wheat-ears; the daughter's blue with a circlet of violets. And now as they +stood with arms entwined the younger brushed aside her veil. The gossips +were right. The robe and the crown hid all but the face and tress of the +lustrous brown hair,--but that face! Had not King Hephaestos wrought every +line of clear Phoenician glass, then touched them with snow and rose, and +shot through all the ichor of life? Perhaps there was a fitful fire in the +dark eyes that awaited the husband's coming, or a slight twitching of the +impatient lips. But nothing disturbed the high-born repose of face and +figure. Hermione was indeed the worthy daughter of a noble house, and +happy the man who was faring homeward to Eleusis! + +Another messenger. Louder bustle in the court, and the voice of Hermippus +arraying his musicians. Now a sharp-faced man, who hid his bald pate under +a crown of lilies, joined the ladies,--Conon, father of the victor. He had +ended his life-feud with Hermippus the night the message flashed from +Corinth. Then a third runner; this time in his hand a triumphant palm +branch, and his one word--"Here!" A crash of music answered from the court, +while Hermippus, a stately nobleman, his fine head just sprinkled with +gray, led out his unmartial army. + +Single pipes and double pipes, tinkling lyres and many-stringed citharas, +not to forget herdsmen's reed flutes, cymbals, and tambours, all made +melody and noise together. An imposing procession that must have crammed +the courtyard wound out into the Corinth road. + +Here was the demarch(2) of Eleusis, a pompous worthy, who could hardly +hold his head erect, thanks to an exceeding heavy myrtle wreath. After +him, two by two, the snowy-robed, long-bearded priests of Demeter; behind +these the noisy corps of musicians, and then a host of young men and +women,--bright of eye, graceful of movement,--twirling long chains of ivy, +laurel, and myrtle in time to the music. Palm branches were everywhere. +The procession moved down the road; but even as it left the court a crash +of cymbals through the olive groves answered its uproar. Deep now and +sonorous sounded manly voices as in some triumphal chant. Hermione, as she +stood by the gate, drew closer to her mother. Inflexible Attic custom +seemed to hold her fast. No noblewoman might thrust herself boldly under +the public eye--save at a sacred festival--no, not when the centre of the +gladness was her husband. + +"He comes!" So she cried to her mother; so cried every one. Around the +turn in the olive groves swung a car in which Cimon stood proudly erect, +and at his side another. Marching before the chariot were Themistocles, +Democrates, Simonides; behind followed every Athenian who had visited the +Isthmia. The necks of the four horses were wreathed with flowers; flowers +hid the reins and bridles, the chariot, and even its wheels. The victor +stood aloft, his scarlet cloak flung back, displaying his godlike form. An +unhealed scar marred his forehead--Lycon's handiwork; but who thought of +that, when above the scar pressed the wreath of wild parsley? As the two +processions met, a cheer went up that shook the red rock of Eleusis. The +champion answered with his frankest smile; only his eyes seemed +questioning, seeking some one who was not there. + +"Io! Glaucon!" The Eleusinian youths broke from their ranks and fell upon +the chariot. The horses were loosed in a twinkling. Fifty arms dragged the +car onward. The pipers swelled their cheeks, each trying to outblow his +fellow. Then after them sped the maidens. They ringed the chariot round +with a maze of flowers chains. As the car moved, they accompanied it with +a dance of unspeakable ease, modesty, grace. A local poet--not Simonides, +not Pindar, but some humbler bard--had invoked his muse for the grand +occasion. Youths and maidens burst forth into singing. + + "Io! Io, paean! the parsley-wreathed victor hail! + Io! Io, paean! sing it out on each breeze, each gale! + He has triumphed, our own, our beloved, + Before all the myriad's ken. + He has met the swift, has proved swifter! + The strong, has proved stronger again! + Now glory to him, to his kinfolk, + To Athens, and all Athens' men! + Meet, run to meet him, + The nimblest are not too fleet. + Greet him, with raptures greet him, + With songs and with twinkling feet. + He approaches,--throw flowers before him. + Throw poppy and lily and rose; + Blow faster, gay pipers, faster, + Till your mad music throbs and flows, + For his glory and ours flies through Hellas, + Wherever the Sun-King goes. + + Io! Io, paean! crown with laurel and myrtle and pine, + Io, paean! haste to crown him with olive, Athena's dark vine. + He is with us, he shines in his beauty; + Oh, joy of his face the first sight; + He has shed on us all his bright honour, + Let High Zeus shed on him his light, + And thou, Pallas, our gray-eyed protectress, + Keep his name and his fame ever bright!" + +Matching action to the song, they threw over the victor crowns and chains +beyond number, till the parsley wreath was hidden from sight. Near the +gate of Hermippus the jubilant company halted. The demarch bawled long for +silence, won it at last, and approached the chariot. He, good man, had +been a long day meditating on his speech of formal congratulation and +enjoyed his opportunity. Glaucon's eyes still roved and questioned, yet +the demarch rolled out his windy sentences. But there was something +unexpected. Even as the magistrate took breath after reciting the victor's +noble ancestry, there was a cry, a parting of the crowd, and Glaucon the +Alcmaeonid leaped from the chariot as never on the sands at Corinth. The +veil and the violet wreath fell from the head of Hermione when her face +went up to her husband's. The blossoms that had covered the athlete shook +over her like a cloud as his face met hers. Then even the honest demarch +cut short his eloquence to swell the salvo. + +"The beautiful to the beautiful! The gods reward well. Here is the fairest +crown!" + +For all Eleusis loved Hermione, and would have forgiven far greater things +from her than this. + + * * * * * * * + +Hermippus feasted the whole company,--the crowd at long tables in the +court, the chosen guests in a more private chamber. "Nothing to excess" +was the truly Hellenic maxim of the refined Eleusinian; and he obeyed it. +His banquet was elegant without gluttony. The Syracusan cook had prepared +a lordly turbot. The wine was choice old Chian but well diluted. There was +no vulgar gorging with meat, after the Boeotian manner; but the great +Copaic eel, "such as Poseidon might have sent up to Olympus," made every +gourmand clap his hands. The aromatic honey was the choicest from Mt. +Hymettus. + +Since the smaller company was well selected, convention was waived, and +ladies were present. Hermione sat on a wide chair beside Lysistra, her +comely mother; her younger brothers on stools at either hand. Directly +across the narrow table Glaucon and Democrates reclined on the same couch. +The eyes of husband and wife seldom left each other; their tongues flew +fast; they never saw how Democrates hardly took his gaze from the face of +Hermione. Simonides, who reclined beside Themistocles,--having struck a +firm friendship with that statesman on very brief acquaintance,--was +overrunning with humour and anecdote. The great man beside him was hardly +his second in the fence of wit and wisdom. After the fish had given way to +the wine, Simonides regaled the company with a gravely related story of +how the Dioscuri had personally appeared to him during his last stay in +Thessaly and saved him from certain death in a falling building. + +"You swear this is a true tale, Simonides?" began Themistocles, with one +eye in his head. + +"It's impiety to doubt. As penalty, rise at once and sing a song in honour +of Glaucon's victory." + +"I am no singer or harpist," returned the statesman, with a +self-complacency he never concealed. "I only know how to make Athens +powerful." + +"Ah! you son of Miltiades," urged the poet, "at least you will not refuse +so churlishly." + +Cimon, with due excuses, arose, called for a harp, and began tuning it; +but not all the company were destined to hear him. A slave-boy touched +Themistocles on the shoulder, and the latter started to go. + +"The Dioscuri will save you?" demanded Simonides, laughing. + +"Quite other gods," rejoined the statesman; "your pardon, Cimon, I return +in a moment. An agent of mine is back from Asia, surely with news of +weight, if he must seek me at once in Eleusis." + +But Themistocles lingered outside; an instant more brought a summons to +Democrates, who found Themistocles in an antechamber, deep in talk with +Sicinnus,--nominally the tutor of his sons, actually a trusted spy. The +first glance at the Asiatic's keen face and eyes was disturbing. An inward +omen--not from the entrails of birds, nor a sign in the heavens--told +Democrates the fellow brought no happy tidings. + +With incisive questions Themistocles had been bringing out everything. + +"So it is absolutely certain that Xerxes begins his invasion next spring?" + +"As certain as that Helios will rise to-morrow." + +"Forewarned is forearmed. Now where have you been since I sent you off in +the winter to visit Asia?" + +The man, who knew his master loved to do the lion's share of the talking, +answered instantly:-- + +"Sardis, Emesa, Babylon, Susa, Persepolis, Ecbatana." + +"_Eu!_ Your commission is well executed. Are all the rumours we hear from +the East well founded? Is Xerxes assembling an innumerable host?" + +"Rumour does not tell half the truth. Not one tribe in Asia but is +required to send its fighting men. Two bridges of boats are being built +across the Hellespont. The king will have twelve hundred war triremes, +besides countless transports. The cavalry are being numbered by hundreds +of thousands, the infantry by millions. Such an army was never assembled +since Zeus conquered the Giants." + +"A merry array!" Themistocles whistled an instant through his teeth; but, +never confounded, urged on his questions. "So be it. But is Xerxes the man +to command this host? He is no master of war like Darius his father." + +"He is a creature for eunuchs and women; nevertheless his army will not +suffer." + +"And wherefore?" + +"Because Prince Mardonius, son of Gobryas, and brother-in-law of the king, +has the wisdom and valour of Cyrus and Darius together. Name him, and you +name the arch-foe of Hellas. He, not Xerxes, will be the true leader of +the host." + +"You saw him, of course?" + +"I did not. A Magian in Ecbatana told me a strange story. 'The Prince,' +said he, 'hates the details of camps; leaving the preparation to others, +he has gone to Greece to spy out the land he is to conquer.' " + +"Impossible, you are dreaming!" The exclamation came not from Themistocles +but Democrates. + +"I am not dreaming, worthy sir," returned Sicinnus, tartly; "the Magian +may have lied, but I sought the Prince in every city I visited; they +always told me, 'He is in another.' He was not at the king's court. He may +have gone to Egypt, to India, or to Arabia;--he _may_ likewise have gone to +Greece." + +"These are serious tidings, Democrates," remarked Themistocles, with an +anxiety his voice seldom betrayed. "Sicinnus is right; the presence of +such a man as Mardonius in Hellas explains many things." + +"I do not understand." + +"Why, the lukewarmness of so many friends we had counted on, the +bickerings which arose among the Confederates when we met just now at the +Isthmus, the slackness of all Spartans save Leonidas in preparing for war, +the hesitancy of Corcyra in joining us. Thebes is Medizing, Crete is +Medizing, so is Argos. Thessaly is wavering. I can almost name the princes +and great nobles over Hellas who are clutching at Persian money. O Father +Zeus," wound up the Athenian, "if there is not some master-spirit +directing all this villany, there is no wisdom in Themistocles, son of +Neocles." + +"But the coming of Mardonius to Greece?" questioned the younger man; "the +peril he runs? the risk of discovery--" + +"Is all but nothing, except as he comes to Athens, for Medizers will +shelter him everywhere. Yet there is one spot--blessed be Athena--" +Themistocles's hands went up in easy piety--"where, let him come if come he +dare!" Then with a swift change, as was his wont, the statesman looked +straight on Democrates. + +"Hark you, son of Myscelus; those Persian lords are reckless. He may even +test the fates and set foot in Attica. I am cumbered with as many cares as +Zeus, but this commission I give to you. You are my most trusted +lieutenant; I can risk no other. Keep watch, hire spies, scatter +bribe-money. Rest not day nor night to find if Mardonius the Persian +enters Athens. Once in our clutches--and you have done Hellas as fair a +turn as Miltiades at Marathon. You promise it? Give me your hand." + +"A great task," spoke Democrates, none too readily. + +"And one you are worthy to accomplish. Are we not co-workers for Athens +and for Hellas?" + +Themistocles's hawklike eyes were unescapable. The younger Athenian +thought they were reading his soul. He held out his hand.... + +When Democrates returned to the hall, Cimon had ended his song. The guests +were applauding furiously. Wine was still going round, but Glaucon and +Hermione were not joining. Across the table they were conversing in low +sentences that Democrates could not catch. But he knew well enough the +meaning as each face flashed back the beauty of the other. And his mind +wandered back darkly to the day when Glaucon had come to him, more radiant +than even his wont, and cried, "Give me joy, dear comrade, joy! Hermippus +has promised me the fairest maiden in Athens." Some evil god had made +Democrates blind to all his boon-companion's wooing. How many hopes of the +orator that day had been shattered! Yet he had even professed to rejoice +with the son of Conon.... He sat in sombre silence, until the piping voice +of Simonides awakened him. + +"Friend, if you are a fool, you do a wise thing in keeping still; if a +wise man, a very foolish thing." + +"Wine, boy," ordered Democrates; "and less water in it. I feel wretchedly +stupid to-day." + +He spent the rest of the feast drinking deeply, and with much forced +laughter. The dinner ended toward evening. The whole company escorted the +victor toward Athens. At Daphni, the pass over the hills, the archons and +strategi--highest officials of the state--met them with cavalry and torches +and half of the city trailing at their heels. Twenty cubits of the city +wall were pulled down to make a gate for the triumphal entry. There was +another great feast at the government house. The purse of an hundred +drachmae, due by law to Isthmian victors, was presented. A street was named +for Glaucon in the new port-town of Peiraeus. Simonides recited a triumphal +ode. All Athens, in short, made merry for days. Only one man found it hard +to join the mirth whole-heartedly. And this was the victor's bosom +friend,--Democrates. + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + + ATHENS + + +In Athens! Shall one mount the Acropolis or enter the market place? +Worship in the temple of the Virgin Athena, or descend to the Agora and +the roar of its getters and spenders? For Athens has two faces--toward the +ideal, toward the commonplace. Who can regard both at once? Let the +Acropolis, its sculptures, its landscape, wait. It has waited for men +three thousand years. And so to the Agora. + + + +"Full market time." The Agora was a beehive. From the round Tholus at the +south to the long portico at the north all was babel and traffic. Donkeys +raised their wheezing protest against too heavy loads of farm produce. +Megarian swine squealed and tugged at their leg-cords. An Asiatic sailor +clamoured at the money-changer's stall for another obol in change for a +Persian daric. "Buy my oil!" bawled the huckster from his wicker booth +beside the line of Hermes-busts in the midst of the square. "Buy my +charcoal!" roared back a companion, whilst past both was haled a grinning +negro with a crier who bade every gentleman to "mark his chance" for a +fashionable servant. Phocian the quack was hawking his toothache salve +from the steps of the Temple of Apollo. Deira, the comely flower girl, +held out crowns of rose, violet, and narcissus to the dozen young dandies +who pressed about her. Around the Hermes-busts idle crowds were reading +the legal notices plastered on the base of each statue. A file of mules +and wagons was ploughing through the multitude with marble for some new +building. Every instant the noise grew. Pandora's box had opened, and +every clamour had flitted out. + +At the northern end, where the porticos and the long Dromos street ran off +toward the Dipylon gate, stood the shop of Clearchus the potter. A low +counter was covered with the owner's wares,--tall amphorae for wine, flat +beakers, water-pots, and basins. Behind, two apprentices whirled the +wheel, another glazed on the black varnish and painted the jars with +little red loves and dancing girls. Clearchus sat on the counter with +three friends,--come not to trade but to barter the latest gossip from the +barber-shops: Agis the sharp, knavish cockpit and gaming-house keeper, +Crito the fat mine-contractor, and finally Polus, gray and pursy, who +"devoted his talents to the public weal," in other words was a perpetual +juryman and likewise busybody. + +The latest rumour about Xerxes having been duly chewed, conversation began +to lag. + +"An idle day for you, my Polus," threw out Clearchus. + +"Idle indeed! No jury sits to-day in the King Archon's Porch or the 'Red +Court'; I can't vote to condemn that Heraclius who's exported wheat +contrary to the law." + +"Condemn?" cried Agis; "wasn't the evidence very weak?" + +"Ay," snorted Polus, "very weak, and the wretch pleaded piteously, setting +his wife and four little ones weeping on the stand. But we are resolved. +'You are boiling a stone--your plea's no profit,' thought we. Our hearts +vote 'guilty,' if our heads say 'innocent.' One mustn't discourage honest +informers. What's a patriot on a jury for if only to acquit? Holy Father +Zeus, but there's a pleasure in dropping into the voting-urn the black +bean which condemns!" + +"Athena keep us, then, from litigation," murmured Clearchus; while Crito +opened his fat lips to ask, "And what adjourns the courts?" + +"A meeting of the assembly, to be sure. The embassy's come back from +Delphi with the oracle we sought about the prospects of the war." + +"Then Themistocles will speak," observed the potter; "a very important +meeting." + +"Very important," choked the juror, fishing a long piece of garlic from +his wallet and cramming it into his mouth with both hands. "What a noble +statesman Themistocles is! Only young Democrates will ever be like him." + +"Democrates?" squeaked out Crito. + +"Why, yes. Almost as eloquent as Themistocles. What zeal for democracy! +What courage against Persia! A Nestor, I say, in wisdom--" + +Agis gave a whistle. + +"A Nestor, perhaps. Yet if you knew, as I do, how some of his nights +pass,--dice, Rhodian fighting-cocks, dancing-girls, and worse things,--" + +"I'll scarce believe it," grunted the juror; yet then confessed somewhat +ruefully, "however, he is unfortunate in his bosom friend." + +"What do you mean?" demanded the potter. + +"Glaucon the Alcmaeonid, to be sure. I cried '_Io, paean!_' as loud as the +others when he came back; still I weary of having a man always so +fortunate." + +"Even as you voted to banish Aristeides, Themistocles's rival, because you +were tired of hearing him called 'the Just.' " + +"There's much in that. Besides, he's an Alcmaeonid, and since their old +murder of Cylon the house has been under a blood curse. He has married the +daughter of Hermippus, who is too highly born to be faithful to the +democracy. He carries a Laconian cane,--sure sign of Spartanizing +tendencies. He may conspire any day to become tyrant." + +"Hush," warned Clearchus, "there he passes now, arm in arm with Democrates +as always, and on his way to the assembly." + +"The men are much alike in build," spoke Crito, slowly, "only Glaucon is +infinitely handsomer." + +"And infinitely less honest. I distrust your too beautiful and too lucky +men," snapped Polus. + +"Envious dog," commented Agis; and bitter personalities might have +followed had not a bell jangled from an adjacent portico. + +"Phormio, my brother-in-law, with fresh fish from Phaleron," announced +Polus, drawing a coin from his wonted purse,--his cheek; "quick, friends, +we must buy our dinners." + +Between the columns of the portico stood Phormio the fishmonger, behind a +table heaped with his scaly wares. He was a thick, florid man with blue +eyes lit by a humourous twinkle. His arms were crusted with brine. To his +waist he was naked. As the friends edged nearer he held up a turbot, +calling for a bid. A clamour answered him. The throng pressed up the +steps, elbowing and scrambling. The competition was keen but good-natured. +Phormio's broad jests and witticisms--he called all his customers by +name--aided in forcing up the price. The turbot was knocked down to a rich +gentleman's cook marketing for his master. The pile of fish decreased, the +bidding sharpened. The "Market Wardens" seemed needed to check the +jostling. But as the last eel was held up, came a cry-- + +"Look out for the rope!" + +Phormio's customers scattered. Scythian constables were stretching cords +dusted with red chalk across all exits from the Agora, save that to the +south. Soon the band began contracting its nets and driving a swarm of +citizens toward the remaining exit, for a red chalk-mark on a mantle meant +a fine. Traffic ceased instantly. Thousands crowded the lane betwixt the +temples and porches, seeking the assembly place,--through a narrow, +ill-built way, but the great area of the Pnyx opened before them like the +slopes of some noble theatre. + +No seats; rich and poor sat down upon the rocky ground. Under the open +azure, at the focus of the semicircle, with clear view before of the city, +and to right of the red cliffs of the Acropolis, rose a low platform hewn +in the rock,--the "Bema," the orator's pulpit. A few chairs for the +magistrates and a small altar were its sole furnishings. The multitude +entered the Pnyx through two narrow entrances pierced in the massy +engirdling wall and took seats at pleasure; all were equals--the Alcmaeonid, +the charcoal-seller from Acharnae. Amid silence the chairman of the Council +arose and put on the myrtle crown,--sign that the sitting was opened. A +herald besought blessings on the Athenians and the Plataeans their allies. +A wrinkled seer carefully slaughtered a goose, proclaimed that its +entrails gave good omen, and cast the carcass on the altar. The herald +assured the people there was no rain, thunder, or other unlucky sign from +heaven. The pious accordingly breathed easier, and awaited the order of +the day. + +The decree of the Council convening the assembly was read; then the +herald's formal proclamation:-- + +"Who wishes to speak?" + +The answer was a groan from nigh every soul present. Three men ascended +the Bema. They bore the olive branches and laurel garlands, suppliants at +Delphi; but their cloaks were black. "The oracle is unfavourable! The gods +deliver us to Xerxes!" The thrill of horror went around the Pnyx. + +The three stood an instant in gloomy silence. Then Callias the Rich, +solemn and impressive, their spokesman, told their eventful story. + +"Athenians, by your orders we have been to Delphi to inquire of the surest +oracle in Greece your destinies in the coming war. Hardly had we completed +the accustomed sacrifices in the Temple of Apollo, when the Pythoness +Aristonice, sitting above the sacred cleft whence comes the inspiring +vapour, thus prophesied." And Callias repeated the hexameters which warned +the Athenians that resistance to Xerxes would be worse than futile; that +Athens was doomed; concluding with the fearful line, "Get from this temple +afar, and brood on the ills that await ye." + +In the pause, as Callias's voice fell, the agony of the people became nigh +indescribable. Sturdy veterans who had met the Persian spears at Marathon +blinked fast. Many groaned, some cursed. Here and there a bold spirit +dared to open his heart to doubt, and to mutter, "Persian gold, the +Pythoness was corrupted," but quickly hushed even such whispers as rank +impiety. Then a voice close to the Bema rang out loudly:-- + +"And is this all the message, Callias?" + +"The voice of Glaucon the Fortunate," cried many, finding relief in words. +"He is a friend to the ambassador. There is a further prophecy." + +The envoy, who had made his theatrical pause too long, continued:-- + +"Such, men of Athens, was the answer; and we went forth in dire +tribulation. Then a certain noble Delphian, Timon by name, bade us take +the olive branches and return to the Pythoness, saying, 'O King Apollo, +reverence these boughs of supplication, and deliver a more comfortable +answer concerning our dear country. Else we will not leave thy sanctuary, +but stay here until we die.' Whereat the priestess gave us a second +answer, gloomy and riddling, yet not so evil as the first." + +Again Callias recited his lines of doom, "that Athena had vainly prayed to +Zeus in behalf of her city, and that it was fated the foe should overrun +all Attica, yet + + " 'Safe shall the wooden wall continue for thee and thy children; + Wait not the tramp of the horse, nor the footmen mightily moving + Over the land, but turn your back to the foe, and retire ye. + Yet a day shall arrive when ye shall meet him in battle. + Oh, holy Salamis, thou shalt destroy the offspring of women + When men scatter the seed, or when they gather the harvest.' " + +"And that is all?" demanded fifty voices. + +"That is all," and Callias quitted the Bema. Whereupon if agony had held +the Pnyx before, perplexity held it now. "The wooden wall?" "Holy +Salamis?" "A great battle, but who is to conquer?" The feverish anxiety of +the people at length found its vent in a general shout. + +"The seers! Call the seers! Explain the oracle!" + +The demand had clearly been anticipated by the president of the Council. + +"Xenagoras the Cerycid is present. He is the oldest seer. Let us hearken +to his opinion." + +The head of the greatest priestly family in Athens arose. He was a +venerable man, wearing his ribbon-decked robes of office. The president +passed him the myrtle crown, as token that he had the Bema. In a tense +hush his voice sounded clearly. + +"I was informed of the oracles before the assembly met. The meaning is +plain. By the 'wooden wall' is meant our ships. But if we risk a battle, +we are told slaughter and defeat will follow. The god commands, therefore, +that without resistance we quit Attica, gathering our wives, our children, +and our goods, and sail away to some far country." + +Xenagoras paused with the smile of him who performs a sad but necessary +duty, removed the wreath, and descended the Bema. + +"Quit Attica without a blow! Our fathers' fathers' sepulchres, the shrines +of our gods, the pleasant farmsteads, the land where our Attic race have +dwelt from dimmest time!" + +The thought shot chill through the thousands. Men sat in helpless silence, +while many a soul, as the gaze wandered up to the temple-crowned +Acropolis, asked once, yes twice, "Is not the yoke of Persia preferable to +that?" Then after the silence broke the clamour of voices. + +"The other seers! Do all agree with Xenagoras? Stand forth! stand forth!" + +Hegias, the "King Archon," chief of the state religion, took the Bema. His +speech was brief and to the point. + +"All the priests and seers of Attica have consulted. Xenagoras speaks for +them all save Hermippus of the house of Eumolpus, who denies the others' +interpretation." + +Confusion followed. Men rose, swung their arms, harangued madly from where +they stood. The chairman in vain ordered "Silence!" and was fain to bid +the Scythian constables restore order. An elderly farmer thrust himself +forward, took the wreath, and poured out his rustic wisdom from the Bema. +His advice was simple. The oracle said "the wooden wall" would be a +bulwark, and by the wooden wall was surely meant the Acropolis which had +once been protected by a palisade. Let all Attica shut itself in the +citadel and endure a siege. + +So far he had proceeded garrulously, but the high-strung multitude could +endure no more. "_Kataba! Kataba!_" "Go down! go down!" pealed the yell, +emphasized by a shower of pebbles. The elder tore the wreath from his head +and fled the Bema. Then out of the confusion came a general cry. + +"Cimon, son of Miltiades, speak to us!" + +But that young nobleman preserved a discreet silence, and the multitude +turned to another favourite. + +"Democrates, son of Myscelus, speak to us!" + +The popular orator only wrapped his cloak about him, as he sat near the +chairman's stand, never answering the call he rejoiced of wont to hear. + +There were cries for Hermippus, cries even for Glaucon, as if prowess in +the pentathlon gave ability to unravel oracles. The athlete sitting beside +Democrates merely blushed and drew closer to his friend. Then at last the +despairing people turned to their last resource. + +"Themistocles, son of Neocles, speak to us!" + +Thrice the call in vain; but at the fourth time a wave of silence swept +across the Pnyx. A figure well beloved was taking the wreath and mounting +the Bema. + +The words of Themistocles that day were to ring in his hearer's ears till +life's end. The careless, almost sybaritic, man of the Isthmus and Eleusis +seemed transfigured. For one moment he stood silent, lofty, awe-inspiring. +He had a mighty task: to calm the superstitious fears of thirty thousand, +to silence the prophets of evil, to infuse those myriads with his own high +courage. He began with a voice so low it would have seemed a whisper if +not audible to all the Pnyx. Quickly he warmed. His gestures became +dramatic. His voice rose to a trumpet-call. He swept his hearers with him +as dry leaves before the blast. "When he began to weave his words, one +might have deemed him churlish, nay a fool, but when from his chest came +his deep voice, and words like unto flakes of winter snow, then who could +with him contend?" Thus Homer of Odysseus the Guileful, thus as truly of +Themistocles saviour of Hellas. + +First he told the old, but never wearisome story of the past of Athens. +How, from the days of Codrus long ago, Athens had never bowed the knee to +an invader, how she had wrested Salamis from greedy Megara, how she had +hounded out the tyrannizing sons of Peisistratus, how she had braved all +the wrath of Persian Darius and dashed his huge armament back at Marathon. +With such a past, only a madman as well as traitor would dream of +submitting to Xerxes now. But as for the admonition of Xenagoras to quit +Attica and never strike a blow, Themistocles would have none of it. With a +clearness that appealed to every home-loving Hellene he pictured the fate +of wanderers as only one step better than that of slaves. What, then, was +left? The orator had a decisive answer. Was not the "wooden wall" which +should endure for the Athenians the great fleet they were just completing? +And as for the fate of the battle the speaker had an unexpected solution. +"Holy Salamis," spoke the Pythoness. And would she have said "holy," if +the issue had been only woe to the sons of Athens? "Luckless Salamis" were +then more reasonably the word; yet the prophetess so far from predicting +defeat had assured them victory. + +Thus ran the substance of the speech on which many a soul knew hung the +mending or ending of Hellas, but lit all through with gleams of wit, +shades of pathos, outbursts of eloquence which burned into the hearers' +hearts as though the speaker were a god. Then at the end, Themistocles, +knowing his audience was with him, delivered his peroration:-- + +"Let him who trusts in oracles trust then in this, and in the old prophecy +of Epimenides that when the Persian comes it is to his hurt. But I will +say with Hector of Troy, 'One oracle is best--to fight for one's native +country.' Others may vote as they will. My vote is that if the foe by land +be too great, we retire before him to our ships, ay, forsake even +well-loved Attica, but only that we may trust to the 'wooden wall,' and +fight the Great King by sea at Salamis. We contend not with gods but with +men. Let others fear. I will trust to Athena Polias,--the goddess terrible +in battle. Hearken then to Solon the Wise (the orator pointed toward the +temple upon the soaring Acropolis):-- + + " 'Our Athens need fear no hurt + Though gods may conspire her ill. + The hand that hath borne us up, + It guides us and guards us still. + Athena, the child of Zeus, + She watches and knows no fear. + The city rests safe from harm + Beneath her protecting spear.' + +Thus trusting in Athena, we will meet the foe at Salamis and will destroy +him." + +"Who wishes to speak?" called the herald. The Pnyx answered together. The +vote to retire from Attica if needs be, to strengthen the fleet, to risk +all in a great battle, was carried with a shout. Men ran to Themistocles, +calling him, "Peitho,--Queen Persuasion." He made light of their praises, +and walked with his handsome head tossed back toward the general's office +by the Agora, to attend to some routine business. Glaucon, Cimon, and +Democrates went westward to calm their exhilaration with a ball-game at +the gymnasium of Cynosarges. On the way Glaucon called attention to a +foreigner that passed them. + +"Look, Democrates, that fellow is wonderfully like the honest barbarian +who applauded me at the Isthmus." + +Democrates glanced twice. + +"Dear Glaucon," said he, "that fellow had a long blond beard, while this +man's is black as a crow." And he spoke the truth; yet despite the +disguise he clearly recognized the "Cyprian." + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + + DEMOCRATES AND THE TEMPTER + + +In the northern quarter of Athens the suburb of Alopece thrust itself +under the slopes of Mt. Lycabettus, that pyramid of tawny rock which +formed the rear bulwark, as it were, of every landscape of Athens. The +dwellings in the suburb were poor, though few even in the richer quarters +were at all handsome; the streets barely sixteen feet wide, ill-paved, +filthy, dingy. A line of dirty gray stucco house-fronts was broken only by +the small doors and the smaller windows in the second story. Occasionally +a two-faced bust of Hermes stood before a portal, or a marble lion's head +spouted into a corner water trough. All Athenian streets resembled these. +The citizen had his Pnyx, his Jury-Court, his gossiping Agora for his day. +These dingy streets sufficed for the dogs, the slaves, and the women, whom +wise Zeus ordered to remain at home. + +Phormio the fishmonger had returned from his traffic, and sat in his +house-door meditating over a pot of sour wine and watching the last light +flickering on the great bulk of the mountain. He had his sorrows,--good +man,--for Lampaxo his worthy wife, long of tongue, short of temper, thrifty +and very watchful, was reminding him for the seventh time that he had sold +a carp half an obol too cheap. His patience indeed that evening was so +near to exhaustion that after cursing inwardly the "match-maker" who had +saddled this Amazon upon him, he actually found courage for an outbreak. +He threw up his arms after the manner of a tragic actor:-- + +"True, true is the word of Hesiod!" + +"True is what?" flew back none too gently. + +" 'The fool first suffers and is after wise.' Woman, I am resolved." + +"On what?" Lampaxo's voice was soft as broken glass. + +"Years increase. I shan't live long. We are childless. I will provide for +you in my will by giving you in marriage to Hyperphon."(3) + +"Hyperphon!" screamed the virago, "Hyperphon the beggarly hunchback, the +laughing-stock of Athens! O Mother Hera!--but I see the villain's aim. You +are weary of me. Then divorce me like an honourable man. Send me back to +Polus my dear brother. Ah, you sheep, you are silent! You think of the +two-minae dowry you must then refund. Woe is me! I'll go to the King +Archon. I'll charge you with gross abuse. The jury will condemn you. +There'll be fines, fetters, stocks, prison--" + +"Peace," groaned Phormio, terrified at the Gorgon, "I only thought--" + +"How dared you think? What permitted--" + +"Good evening, sweet sister and Phormio!" The salutation came from Polus, +who with Clearchus had approached unheralded. Lampaxo smoothed her ruffled +feathers. Phormio stifled his sorrows. Dromo, the half-starved slave-boy, +brought a pot of thin wine to his betters. The short southern twilight was +swiftly passing into night. Groups of young men wandered past, bound +homeward from the Cynosarges, the Academy, or some other well-loved +gymnasium. In an hour the streets would be dark and still, except for a +belated guest going to his banquet, a Scythian constable, or perhaps a +cloak thief. For your Athenian, when he had no supper invitation, went to +bed early and rose early, loving the sunlight far better than the flicker +of his uncertain lamps. + +"And did the jury vote 'guilty'?" was Phormio's first question of his +brother-in-law. + +"We were patriotically united. There were barely any white beans for +acquittal in the urn. The scoundrelly grain-dealer is stripped of all he +possesses and sent away to beg in exile. A noble service to Athens!" + +"Despite the evidence," murmured Clearchus; but Lampaxo's shrill voice +answered her brother:-- + +"It's my opinion you jurors should look into a case directly opposite this +house. Spies, I say, Persian spies." + +"Spies!" cried Polus, leaping up as from a coal; "why, Phormio, haven't +you denounced them? It's compounding with treason even to fail to report--" + +"Peace, brother," chuckled the fishmonger, "your sister smells for treason +as a dog for salt fish. There is a barbarian carpet merchant--a Babylonian, +I presume--who has taken the empty chambers above Demas's shield factory +opposite. He seems a quiet, inoffensive man; there are a hundred other +foreign merchants in the city. One can't cry 'Traitor!' just because the +poor wight was not born to speak Greek." + +"I do not like Babylonish merchants," propounded Polus, dogmatically; "to +the jury with him, I say!" + +"At least he has a visitor," asserted Clearchus, who had long been silent. +"See, a gentleman wrapped in a long himation is going up to the door and +standing up his walking stick." + +"And if I have eyes," vowed the juror, squinting through his hands in the +half light, "that closely wrapped man is Glaucon the Alcmaeonid." + +"Or Democrates," remarked Clearchus; "they look much alike from behind. +It's getting dark." + +"Well," decided Phormio, "we can easily tell. He has left his stick below +by the door. Steal across, Polus, and fetch it. It must be carved with the +owner's name." + +The juror readily obeyed; but to read the few characters on the crooked +handle was beyond the learning of any save Clearchus, whose art demanded +the mystery of writing. + +"I was wrong," he confessed, after long scrutiny, " 'Glaucon, son of +Conon.' It is very plain. Put the cane back, Polus." + +The cane was returned, but the juror pulled a very long face. + +"Dear friends, here is a man I've already suspected of undemocratic +sentiments conferring with a Barbarian. Good patriots cannot be too +vigilant. A plot, I assert. Treason to Athens and Hellas! Freedom's in +danger. Henceforth I shall look on Glaucon the Alcmaeonid as an enemy of +liberty." + +"_Phui!_" almost shouted Phormio, whose sense of humour was keen, "a noble +conspiracy! Glaucon the Fortunate calls on a Babylonish merchant by night. +You say to plot against Athens. I say to buy his pretty wife a carpet." + +"The gods will some day explain," said Clearchus, winding up the +argument,--and so for a little while the four forgot all about Glaucon. + + * * * * * * * + +Despite the cane, Clearchus was right. The visitor was Democrates. The +orator mounted the dark stair above the shield-factory and knocked against +a door, calling, "_Pai! Pai!_" "Boy! boy!" a summons answered by none +other than the ever smiling Hiram. The Athenian, however, was little +prepared for the luxury, nay splendour, which greeted him, once the +Phoenician had opened the door. The bare chamber had been transformed. The +foot sank into the glowing carpets of Kerman and Bactria. The +gold-embroidered wall tapestries were of Sidonian purple. The divans were +covered with wondrous stuff which Democrates could not name,--another age +would call it silk. A tripod smoked with fragrant Arabian frankincense. +Silver lamps, swinging from silver chains, gave brilliant light. The +Athenian stood wonderbound, until a voice, not Hiram's, greeted him. + +"Welcome, Athenian," spoke the Cyprian, in his quaint, eastern accent. It +was the strange guest in the tavern by Corinth. The Prince--prince surely, +whatever his other title--was in the same rich dress as at the Isthmus, +only his flowing beard had been dyed raven black. Yet Democrates's eyes +were diverted instantly to the peculiarly handsome slave-boy on the divan +beside his master. The boy's dress, of a rare blue stuff, enveloped him +loosely. His hair was as golden as the gold thread on the round cap. In +the shadows the face almost escaped the orator,--he thought he saw clear +blue eyes and a marvellously brilliant, almost girlish, bloom and +freshness. The presence of this slave caused the Athenian to hesitate, but +the Cyprian bade him be seated, with one commanding wave of the hand. + +"This is Smerdis, my constant companion. He is a mute. Yet if otherwise, I +would trust him as myself." + +Democrates, putting by surprise, began to look on his host fixedly. + +"My dear Barbarian, for that you are a Hellene you will not pretend, you +realize, I trust, you incur considerable danger in visiting Athens." + +"I am not anxious," observed the Prince, composedly. "Hiram is watchful +and skilful. You see I have dyed my hair and beard black and pass for a +Babylonish merchant." + +"With all except me, _philotate_,--'dearest friend,' as we say in Athens." +Democrates's smile was not wholly agreeable. + +"With all except you," assented the Prince, fingering the scarlet tassel +of the cushion whereon he sat. "I reckoned confidently that you would come +to visit me when I sent Hiram to you. Yes--I have heard the story that is +on your tongue: one of Themistocles's busybodies has brought a rumour that +a certain great man of the Persian court is missing from the side of his +master, and you have been requested to greet that nobleman heartily if he +should come to Athens." + +"You know a great deal!" cried the orator, feeling his forehead grow hot. + +"It is pleasant to know a great deal," smiled back the Prince, carelessly, +while Hiram entered with a tray and silver goblets brimming with +violet-flavoured sherbet; "I have innumerable 'Eyes-and-ears.' You have +heard the name? One of the chief officers of his Majesty is 'The Royal +Eye.' You Athenians are a valiant and in many things a wise people, yet +you could grow in wisdom by looking well to the East." + +"I am confident," exclaimed Democrates, thrusting back the goblet, "if +your Excellency requires a noble game of wits, you can have one. I need +only step to the window, and cry 'Spies!'--after which your Excellency can +exercise your wisdom and eloquence defending your life before one of our +Attic juries." + +"Which is a polite and patriotic manner of saying, dearest Athenian, you +are not prepared to push matters to such unfortunate extremity. I omit +what his Majesty might do in the way of taking vengeance; sufficient that +if aught unfortunate befalls me, or Hiram, or this my slave Smerdis, while +we are in Athens, a letter comes to your noble chief Themistocles from the +banker Pittacus of Argos." + +Democrates, who had risen to his feet, had been flushed before. He became +pale now. The hand that clutched the purple tapestry was trembling. The +words rose to his lips, the lips refused to utter them. The Prince, who +had delivered his threat most quietly, went on, "In short, good +Democrates, I was aware before I came to Athens of our necessities, and I +came because I was certain I could relieve them." + +"Never!" The orator shot the word out desperately. + +"You are a Hellene." + +"Am I ashamed of it?" + +"Do not, however, affect to be more virtuous than your race. Persians make +their boast of truth-telling and fidelity. You Hellenes, I hear, have even +a god--Hermes Dolios,--who teaches you lying and thieving. The customs of +nations differ. Mazda the Almighty alone knoweth which is best. Follow +then the customs of Hellenes." + +"You speak in riddles." + +"Plainer, then. You know the master I serve. You guess who I am, though +you shall not name me. For what sum will you serve Xerxes the Great King?" + +The orator's breath came deep. His hands clasped and unclasped, then were +pressed behind his head. + +"I told Lycon, and I tell you, I am no traitor to Hellas." + +"Which means, of course, you demand a fair price. I am not angry. You will +find a Persian pays like the lord he is, and that his darics always ring +true metal." + +"I'll hear no more. I was a fool to meet Lycon at Corinth, doubly a fool +to meet you to-night. Farewell." + +Democrates seized the latch. The door was locked. He turned furiously on +the Barbarian. "Do you keep me by force? Have a care. I can be terrible if +driven to bay. The window is open. One shout--" + +The Cyprian had risen, and quietly, but with a grip like iron on +Democrates's wrist, led the orator back to the divan. + +"You can go free in a twinkling, but hear you shall. Before you boast of +your power, you shall know all of mine. I will recite your condition. +Contradict if I say anything amiss. Your father Myscelus was of the noble +house of Codrus, a great name in Athens, but he left you no large estate. +You were ambitious to shine as an orator and leader of the Athenians. To +win popularity you have given great feasts. At the last festival of the +Theseia you fed the poor of Athens on sixty oxen washed down with good +Rhodian wine. All that made havoc in your patrimony." + +"By Zeus, you speak as if you lived all your life in Athens!" + +"I have said 'I have many eyes.' But to continue. You gave the price of +the tackling for six of the triremes with which Themistocles pretends to +believe he can beat back my master. Worse still, you have squandered many +minae on flute girls, dice, cock-fights, and other gentle pleasures. In +short your patrimony is not merely exhausted but overspent. That, however, +is not the most wonderful part of my recital." + +"How dare you pry into my secrets?" + +"Be appeased, dear Athenian; it is much more interesting to know you deny +nothing of all I say. It is now five months since you were appointed by +your sagacious Athenian assembly as commissioner to administer the silver +taken from the mines at Laurium and devoted to your navy. You fulfilled +the people's confidence by diverting much of this money to the payment of +your own great debts to the banker Pittacus of Argos. At present you are +'watching the moon,' as you say here in Athens,--I mean, that at the end of +this month you must account to the people for all the money you have +handled, and at this hour are at your wits' ends to know whence the +repayment will come." + +"That is all you know of me?" + +"All." + +Democrates sighed with relief. "Then you have yet to complete the story, +my dear Barbarian. I have adventured on half the cargo of a large +merchantman bringing timber and tin from Massalia; I look every day for a +messenger from Corinth with news of her safe arrival. Upon her coming I +can make good all I owe and still be a passing rich man." + +If the Cyprian was discomposed at this announcement, he did not betray it. + +"The sea is frightfully uncertain, good Democrates. Upon it, as many +fortunes are lost as are made." + +"I have offered due prayers to Poseidon, and vowed a gold tripod on the +ship's arrival." + +"So even your gods in Hellas have their price," was the retort, with an +ill-concealed sneer. "Do not trust them. Take ten talents from me and +to-night sleep sweetly." + +"Your price?" the words slipped forth involuntarily. + +"Themistocles's private memoranda for the battle-order of your new fleet." + +"Avert it, gods! The ship will reach Corinth, I warn you--" Democrates's +gestures became menacing, as again he rose, "I will set you in +Themistocles's hand as soon--" + +"But not to-night." The Prince rose, smiled, held out his hand. "Unbar the +door for his Excellency, Hiram. And you, noble sir, think well of all I +said at Corinth on the certain victory of my master; think also--" the +voice fell--"how Democrates the Codrid could be sovereign of Athens under +the protection of Persia." + +"I tyrant of Athens?" the orator clapped his hand behind his back; "you +say enough. Good evening." + +He was on the threshold, when the slave-boy touched his master's hand in +silent signal. + +"And if there be any fair woman you desire,"--how gliding the Cyprian's +voice!--"shall not the power of Xerxes the great give her unto you?" + +Why did Democrates feel his forehead turn to flame? Why--almost against +will--did he stretch forth his hand to the Cyprian? He went down the stair +scarce feeling the steps beneath him. At the bottom voices greeted him +from across the darkened street. + +"A fair evening, Master Glaucon." + +"A fair evening," his mechanical answer; then to himself; as he walked +away, "Wherefore call me Glaucon? I have somewhat his height, though not +his shoulder. Ah,--I know it, I have chanced to borrow his carved +walking-stick. Impudent creatures to read the name!" + +He had not far to go. Athens was compactly built, all quarters close +together. Yet before he reached home and bed, he was fighting back an +ill-defined but terrible thought. "Glaucon! They think I am Glaucon. If I +chose to betray the Cyprian--" Further than that he would not suffer the +thought to go. He lay sleepless, fighting against it. The dark was full of +the harpies of uncanny suggestion. He arose unrefreshed, to proffer every +god the same prayer: "Deliver me from evil imaginings. Speed the ship to +Corinth." + + + + + CHAPTER VIII + + + ON THE ACROPOLIS + + +The Acropolis of Athens rises as does no other citadel in the world. Had +no workers in marble or bronze, no weavers of eloquence or song, dwelt +beneath its shadow, it would stand the centre and cynosure of a remarkable +landscape. It is "_The Rock_," no other like unto it. Is it enough to say +its ruddy limestone rises as a huge boulder one hundred and fifty feet +above the plain, that its breadth is five hundred, its length one +thousand? Numbers and measures can never disclose a soul,--and the Rock of +Athens has all but a soul: a soul seems to glow through its adamant when +the fire-footed morning steals over the long crest of Hymettus, and +touches the citadel's red bulk with unearthly brightness; a soul when the +day falls to sleep in the arms of night as Helios sinks over the western +hill by Daphni. Then the Rock seems to throb and burn with life again. + +It is so bare that the hungry goats can hardly crop one spear of grass +along its jagged slopes. It is so steep it scarce needs defence against an +army. It is so commanding that he who stands on the westmost pinnacle can +look across the windy hill of the Pnyx, across the brown plain-land and +down to the sparkling blue sea with the busy havens of Peiraeus and +Phalerum, the scattered gray isles of the AEgean, and far away to the +domelike crest of Acro-Corinthus. Let him turn to the right: below him +nestles the gnarled hill of Areopagus, home of the Furies, the buzzing +plaza of the Agora, the closely clustered city. Behind, there spread +mountain, valley, plain,--here green, here brown, here golden,--with +Pentelicus the Mighty rearing behind all, his summits fretted white, not +with winter snows, but with lustrous marble. Look to the left: across the +view passes the shaggy ridge of Hymettus, arid and scarred, as if wrought +by the Titans, home only of goats and bees, of nymphs and satyrs. + +That was almost the self-same vision in the dim past when the first savage +clambered this "Citadel of Cecrops" and spoke, "Here is my +dwelling-place." This will be the vision until earth and ocean are no +more. The human habitation changes, the temples rise and crumble; the red +and gray rock, the crystalline air, the sapphire sea, come from the god, +and these remain. + + + +Glaucon and Hermione were come together to offer thanks to Athena for the +glory of the Isthmus. The athlete had already mounted the citadel heading +a myrtle-crowned procession to bear a formal thanksgiving, but his wife +had not then been with him. Now they would go together, without pomp. They +walked side by side. Nimble Chloe tripped behind with her mistress's +parasol. Old Manes bore the bloodless sacrifice, but Hermione said in her +heart there came two too many. + +Many a friendly eye, many a friendly word, followed as they crossed the +Agora, where traffic was in its morning bustle. Glaucon answered every +greeting with his winsome smile. + +"All Athens seems our friend!" he said, as close by the Tyrannicides' +statues at the upper end of the plaza a grave councilman bowed and an old +bread woman left her stall to bob a courtesy. + +"Is _your_ friend," corrected Hermione, thinking only of her husband, "for +I have won no pentathlon." + +"Ah, _makaira_, dearest and best," he answered, looking not on the +glorious citadel but on her face, "could I have won the parsley wreath had +there been no better wreath awaiting me at Eleusis? And to-day I am +gladdest of the glad. For the gods have sent me blessings beyond desert, I +no longer fear their envy as once. I enjoy honour with all good men. I +have no enemy in the world. I have the dearest of friends, Cimon, +Themistocles--beyond all, Democrates. I am blessed in love beyond Peleus +espoused to Thetis, or Anchises beloved of Aphrodite, for my golden +Aphrodite lives not on Olympus, nor Paphos, nor comes on her doves from +Cythera, but dwells--" + +"Peace." The hand laid on his mouth was small but firm. "Do not anger the +goddess by likening me unto her. It is joy enough for me if I can look up +at the sun and say, 'I keep the love of Glaucon the Fortunate and the +Good.' " + +Walking thus in their golden dream, the two crossed the Agora, turned to +the left from the Pnyx, and by crooked lanes went past the craggy rock of +Areopagus, till before them rose a wooden palisade and a gate. Through +this a steep path led upward to the citadel. Not to the Acropolis of fame. +The buildings then upon the Rock in one short year would lie in heaps of +fire-scarred ruin. Yet in that hour before Glaucon and Hermione a not +unworthy temple rose, the old "House of Athena," prototype of the later +Parthenon. In the morning light it stood in beauty--a hundred Doric +columns, a sculptured pediment, flashing with white marble and with tints +of scarlet, blue, and gold. Below it, over the irregular plateau of the +Rock, spread avenues of votive statues of gods and heroes in stone, +bronze, or painted wood. Here and there were numerous shrines and small +temples, and a giant altar for burning a hundred oxen. So hand in hand the +twain went to the bronze portal of the Temple. The kindly old priest on +guard smiled as he sprinkled them with the purifying salt water out of the +brazen laver. The door closed behind them. For a moment they seemed to +stand in the high temple in utter darkness. Then far above through the +marble roof a softened light came creeping toward them. As from unfolding +mist, the great calm face of the ancient goddess looked down with its +unchanging smile. A red coal glowed on the tripod at her feet. Glaucon +shook incense over the brazier. While it smoked, Hermione laid the crown +of lilies between the knees of the half-seen image, then her husband +lifted his hands and prayed aloud. + +"Athena, Virgin, Queen, Deviser of Wisdom,--whatever be the name thou +lovest best,--accept this offering and hear. Bless now us both. Give us to +strive for the noblest, to speak the wise word, to love one another. Give +us prosperity, but not unto pride. Bless all our friends; but if we have +enemies, be thou their enemy also. And so shall we praise thee forever." + +This was all the prayer and worship. A little more meditation, then +husband and wife went forth from the sacred cella. The panorama--rocks, +plain, sea, and bending heavens--opened before them in glory. The light +faded upon the purple breasts of the western mountains. Behind the +Acropolis, Lycabettus's pyramid glowed like a furnace. The marble on +distant Pentelicus shone dazzlingly. + +Glaucon stood on the easternmost pinnacle of the Rock, watching the +landscape. + +"Joy, _makaira_, joy," he cried, "we possess one another. We dwell in +'violet-crowned Athens'; for what else dare we to pray?" + +But Hermione pointed less pleased toward the crest of Pentelicus. + +"Behold it! How swiftly yonder gray cloud comes on a rushing wind! It will +cover the brightness. The omen is bad." + +"Why bad, _makaira_?" + +"The cloud is the Persian. He hangs to-day as a thunder-cloud above Athens +and Hellas. Xerxes will come. And you--" + +She pressed closer to her husband. + +"Why speak of me?" he asked lightly. + +"Xerxes brings war. War brings sorrow to women. It is not the hateful and +old that the spears and the arrows love best." + +Half compelled by the omen, half by a sudden burst of unoccasioned fear, +her eyes shone with tears; but her husband's laugh rang clearly. + +"_Euge!_ dry your eyes, and look before you. King AEolus scatters the cloud +upon his briskest winds. It breaks into a thousand bits. So shall +Themistocles scatter the hordes of Xerxes. The Persian shadow shall come, +shall go, and again we shall be happy in beautiful Athens." + +"Athena grant it!" prayed Hermione. + +"We can trust the goddess," returned Glaucon, not to be shaken from his +happy mood. "And now that we have paid our vows to her, let us descend. +Our friends are already waiting for us by the Pnyx before they go down to +the harbours." + +As they went down the steep, Cimon and Democrates came running to join +them, and in the brisk chatter that arose the omen of the cloud and fears +of the Persian faded from Hermione's mind. + + * * * * * * * + +It was a merry party such as often went down to the havens of Athens in +the springtime and summer: a dozen gentlemen, old and young, for the most +part married, and followed demurely by their wives with the latter's +maids, and many a stout Thracian slave tugging hampers of meat and drink. +Laughter there was, admixed with wiser talk; friends walking by twos and +threes, with Themistocles, as always, seeming to mingle with all and to +surpass every one both in jests and in wisdom. So they fared down across +the broad plain-land to the harbours, till the hill Munychia rose steep +before them. A scramble over a rocky, ill-marked way led to the top; then +before them broke a second view comparable almost to that from the Rock of +Athena: at their feet lay the four blue havens of Athens, to the right +Phaleron, closer at hand the land-locked bay of Munychia, beyond that Zea, +beyond that still a broader sheet--Peiraeus, the new war-harbour of Athens. +They could look down on the brown roofs of the port-town, the forest of +masts, the merchantman unloading lumber from the Euxine, the merchantman +loading dried figs for Syria; but most of all on the numbers of long black +hulls, some motionless on the placid harbour, some propped harmlessly on +the shore. Hermione clouded as she saw them, and glanced away. + +"I do not love your new fleet, Themistocles," she said, frowning at the +handsome statesman; "I do not love anything that tells so clearly of war. +It mars the beauty." + +"Rather you should rejoice we have so fair a wooden wall against the +Barbarian, dear lady," answered he, quite at ease. "What can we do to +hearten her, Democrates?" + +"Were I only Zeus," rejoined the orator, who never was far from his best +friend's wife, "I would cast two thunderbolts, one to destroy Xerxes, the +second to blast Themistocles's armada,--so would the Lady Hermione be +satisfied." + +"I am sorry, then, you are not the Olympian," said the woman, half smiling +at the pleasantry. Cimon interrupted them. Some of the party had caught a +sun-burned shepherd in among the rocks, a veritable Pan in his shaggy +goat-skin. The bribe of two obols brought him out with his pipe. Four of +the slave-boys fell to dancing. The party sat down upon the burnt +grass,--eating, drinking, wreathing poppy-crowns, and watching the nimble +slaves and the ships that crawled like ants in the haven and bay below. +Thus passed the noon, and as the sun dropped toward craggy Salamis across +the strait, the men of the party wandered down to the ports and found +boats to take them out upon the bay. + +The wind was a zephyr. The water spread blue and glassy. The sun was +sinking as a ball of infinite light. Themistocles, Democrates, and Glaucon +were in one skiff, the athlete at the oars. They glided past the scores of +black triremes swinging lazily at anchor. Twice they pulled around the +proudest of the fleet,--the _Nausicaae_, the gift of Hermippus to the state, +a princely gift even in days when every Athenian put his all at the public +service. She would be Themistocles's flag-ship. The young men noted her +fine lines, her heavy side timbers, the covered decks, an innovation in +Athenian men-of-war, and Themistocles put a loving hand on the keen bronze +beak as they swung around the prow. + +"Here's a tooth for the Persian king!" he was laughing, when a second +skiff, rounding the trireme in an opposite direction, collided abruptly. A +lurch, a few splinters was all the hurt, but as the boats parted +Themistocles rose from his seat in the stern, staring curiously. + +"Barbarians, by Athena's owls, the knave at the oars is a sleek Syrian, +and his master and the boy from the East too. What business around our +war-fleet? Row after them, Glaucon; we'll question--" + +"Glaucon does no such folly," spoke Democrates, instantly, from the bow; +"if the harbour-watch doesn't interfere with honest traders, what's it to +us?" + +"As you like it." Themistocles resumed his seat. "Yet it would do no harm. +Now they row to another trireme. With what falcon eyes the master of the +trio examines it! Something uncanny, I repeat." + +"To examine everything strange," proclaimed Democrates, sententiously, +"needs the life of a crow, who, they say, lives a thousand years, but I +don't see any black wings budding on Themistocles's shoulders. Pull +onward, Glaucon." + +"Whither?" demanded the rower. + +"To Salamis," ordered Themistocles. "Let us see the battle-place foretold +by the oracle." + +"To Salamis or clear to Crete," rejoined Glaucon, setting his strength +upon the oars and making the skiff bound, "if we can find water deep +enough to drown those gloomy looks that have sat on Democrates's brows of +late." + +"Not gloomy but serious," said the young orator, with an attempt at +lightness; "I have been preparing my oration against the contractor I've +indicted for embezzling the public naval stores." + +"Destroy the man!" cried the rower. + +"And yet I really pity him; he was under great temptation." + +"No excuses; the man who robs the city in days like these is worse than he +who betrays fortresses in most wars." + +"I see you are a savage patriot, Glaucon," said Themistocles, "despite +your Adonis face. We are fairly upon the bay; our nearest eavesdroppers, +yon fishermen, are a good five furlongs. Would you see something?" Glaucon +rested on the oars, while the statesman fumbled in his breast. He drew out +a papyrus sheet, which he passed to the rower, he in turn to Democrates. + +"Look well, then, for I think no Persian spies are here. A month long have +I wrought on this bit of papyrus. All my wisdom flowed out of my pen when +I spread the ink. In short here is the ordering of the ships of the allied +Greeks when we meet Xerxes in battle. Leonidas and our other chiefs gave +me the task when we met at Corinth. To-day it is complete. Read it, for it +is precious. Xerxes would give twenty talents for this one leaf from +Egypt." + +The young men peered at the sheet curiously. The details and diagrams were +few and easy to remember, the Athenian ships here, the AEginetan next, the +Corinthian next, and so with the other allies. A few comments on the use +of the light penteconters behind the heavy triremes. A few more comments +on Xerxes's probable naval tactics. Only the knowledge that Themistocles +never committed himself in speech or writing without exhausting every +expedient told the young men of the supreme importance of the paper. After +due inspection the statesman replaced it in his breast. + +"You two have seen this," he announced, seemingly proud of his handiwork; +"Leonidas shall see this, then Xerxes, and after that--" he laughed, but +not in jest--"men will remember Themistocles, son of Neocles!" + +The three lapsed into silence for a moment. The skiff was well out upon +the sea. The shadows of the hills of Salamis and of AEgelaos, the opposing +mountain of Attica, were spreading over them. Around the islet of +Psyttaleia in the strait the brown fisher-boats were gliding. Beyond the +strait opened the blue hill-girdled bay of Eleusis, now turning to fire in +the evening sun. Everything was peaceful, silent, beautiful. Again Glaucon +rested on his oars and let his eyes wander. + +"How true is the word of Thales the Sage," he spoke; " 'the world is the +fairest of all fair things, because it is the work of God.' It cannot be +that, here, between these purple hills and the glistening sea, there will +come that battle beside which the strife of Achilles and Hector before +Troy shall pass as nothing!" + +Themistocles shook his head. + +"We do not know; we are dice in the high gods' dice-boxes. + + " 'Man all vainly shall scan the mind of the Prince of Olympus.' + +"We can say nothing wiser than that. We can but use our Attic mother wit, +and trust the rest to destiny. Let us be satisfied if we hope that destiny +is not blind." + +They drifted many moments in silence. + +"The sun sinks lower," spoke Democrates, at length; "so back again to the +havens." + +On the return Themistocles once more vowed he caught a glimpse of the +skiff of the unknown foreigners, but Democrates called it mere phantasy. +Hermione met them at the Peiraeus, and the party wandered back through the +gathering dusk to the city, where each little group went its way. +Themistocles went to his own house, where he said he expected Sicinnus; +Cimon and Democrates sought a tavern for an evening cup; Glaucon and +Hermione hastened to their house in the Colonus suburb near the trickling +Cephissus, where in the starlit night the tettix(4) in the black old +olives by the stream made its monotonous music, where great fireflies +gleamed, where Philomela the nightingale called, and the tall plane trees +whispered softly to the pines. When Hermione fell asleep, she had +forgotten about the coming of the Persian, and dreamed that Glaucon was +Eros, she was Psyche, and that Zeus was giving her the wings of a +butterfly and a crown of stars. + +Democrates went home later. After the heady Pramnian at the tavern, he +roved away with Cimon and others to serenade beneath the lattice of a +lady--none too prudish--in the Ceramicus quarter. But the fair one was cruel +that night, and her slaves repelled the minstrels with pails of hot water +from an upper window. Democrates thereupon quitted the party. His head was +very befogged, but he could not expel one idea from it--that Themistocles +had revealed that day a priceless secret, that the statesman and Glaucon +and he himself were the only men who shared it, and that it was believed +that Glaucon had visited the Babylonish carpet-seller. Joined to this was +an overpowering consciousness that Helen of Troy was not so lovely as +Hermione of Eleusis. When he came to his lodgings, however, his wits +cleared in a twinkling after he had read two letters. The first was short. + +"Themistocles to Democrates:--This evening I begin to discover something. +Sicinnus, who has been searching in Athens, is certain there is a Persian +agent in the city. Seize him.--_Chaire._" + +The second was shorter. It came from Corinth. + +"Socias the merchant to Democrates:--Tyrrhenian pirates have taken the +ship. Lading and crew are utterly lost.--_Chaire._" + +The orator never closed his eyes that night. + + + + + CHAPTER IX + + + THE CYPRIAN TRIUMPHS + + +Democrates fronted ruin. What profit later details from Socias of the +capture of the merchantman? Unless three days before the coming festival +of the Panathenaea the orator could find a large sum, he was forever +undone. His sequestering of the ship-money would become public property. +He would be tried for his life. Themistocles would turn against him. The +jury would hardly wait for the evidence. He would drink the poisonous +hemlock and his corpse be picked by the crows in the Barathrum,--an open +pit, sole burial place for Athenian criminals. + +One thing was possible: to go to Glaucon, confess all, and beg the money. +Glaucon was rich. He could have the amount from Conon and Hermippus for +the asking. But Democrates knew Glaucon well enough to perceive that while +the athlete might find the money, he would be horrified at the foul +disclosure. He would save his old comrade from death, but their friendship +would be ended. He would feel in duty bound to tell Themistocles enough to +ruin Democrates's political prospects for all time. An appeal to Glaucon +was therefore dismissed, and the politician looked for more desperate +remedies. + +Democrates enjoyed apartments on the street of the Tripods east of the +Acropolis, a fashionable promenade of Athens. He was regarded as a +confirmed bachelor. If, therefore, two or three dark-eyed flute girls in +Phaleron had helped him to part with a good many minae, no one scolded too +loudly; the thing had been done genteelly and without scandal. Democrates +affected to be a collector of fine arms and armour. The ceiling of his +living room was hung with white-plumed helmets, on the walls glittered +brass greaves, handsomely embossed shields, inlaid Chalcidian scimitars, +and bows tipped with gold. Under foot were expensive rugs. The orator's +artistic tastes were excellent. Even as he sat in the deeply pillowed +arm-chair his eye lighted on a Nike,--a statuette of the precious +Corinthian bronze, a treasure for which the dealer's unpaid account lay +still, alas! in the orator's coffer. + +But Democrates was not thinking so much of the unpaid bronze-smith as of +divers weightier debts. On the evening in question he had ordered Bias, +the sly Thracian, out of the room; with his own hands had barred the door +and closed the lattice; then with stealthy step thrust back the scarlet +wall tapestry to disclose a small door let into the plaster. A key made +the door open into a cupboard, out of which Democrates drew a brass-bound +box of no great size, which he carried gingerly to a table and opened with +a complex key. + +The contents of the box were curious, to a stranger enigmatic. Not money, +nor jewels, but rolls of closely written papyri, and things which the +orator studied more intently,--a number of hard bits of clay bearing the +impressions of seals. As Democrates fingered these, his face might have +betrayed a mingling of keen fear and keener satisfaction. + +"There is no such collection in all Hellas,--no, not in the world," ran his +commentary; "here is the signet of the Tagos of Thessaly, here of the +Boeotarch of Thebes, here of the King of Argos. I was able to secure the +seal of Leonidas while in Corinth. This, of course, is Themistocles's,--how +easily I took it! And this--of less value perhaps to a man of the world--is +of my beloved Glaucon. And here are twenty more. Then the papyri,"--he +unrolled them lovingly, one after another,--"precious specimens, are they +not? Ah, by Zeus, I must be a very merciful and pious man, or I'd have +used that dreadful power heaven has given me and never have drifted into +these straits." + +What that "power" was with which Democrates felt himself endued he did not +even whisper to himself. His mood changed suddenly. He closed the box with +a snap and locked it hurriedly. + +"Cursed casket!--I think I would be happier if Phorcys, the old man of the +deep, could drown it all! I would be better for it and kept from foul +thoughts." + +He thrust the box back in the cupboard, drew forth a second like it, +unlocked it, and took out more writings. Selecting two, he spread ink and +papyrus before him, and copied with feverish haste. Once he hesitated, and +almost flung back the writings into the casket. Once he glanced at the +notes he had prepared for his speech against the defrauding contractor. He +grimaced bitterly. Then the hesitation ended. He finished the copying, +replaced the second box, and barred and concealed the cupboard. He hid his +new copies in his breast and called in Bias. + +"I am going out, but I shall not be late." + +"Shall not Hylas and I go with lanterns?" asked the fellow. "Last night +there were foot-pads." + +"I don't need you," rejoined his master, brusquely. + +He went down into the dimly lighted street and wound through the maze of +back alleys wherein Athens abounded, but Democrates never missed his way. +Once he caught the glint of a lantern--a slave lighting home his master +from dinner. The orator drew into a doorway; the others glided by, seeing +nothing. Only when he came opposite the house of the Cyprian he saw light +spreading from the opposite doorway and knew he must pass under curious +eyes. Phormio was entertaining friends very late. But Democrates took +boldness for safety, strode across the illumined ring, and up to the +Cyprian's stairway. The buzz of conversation stopped a moment. "Again +Glaucon," he caught, but was not troubled. + +"After all," he reflected, "if seen at all, there is no harm in such a +mistake." + +The room was again glittering in its Oriental magnificence. The Cyprian +advanced to meet his visitor, smiling blandly. + +"Welcome, dear Athenian. We have awaited you. We are ready to heal your +calamity." + +Democrates turned away his face. + +"You know it already! O Zeus, I am the most miserable man in all Hellas!" + +"And wherefore miserable, good friend?" The Cyprian half led, half +compelled the visitor to a seat on the divan. "Is it such to be enrolled +from this day among the benefactors of my most gracious lord and king?" + +"Don't goad me!" Democrates wrung his hands. "I am desperate. Take these +papyri, read, pay, then let me never see your face again." He flung the +two rolls in the Prince's lap and sat in abject misery. + +The other unrolled the writings deliberately, read slowly, motioned to +Hiram, who also read them with catlike scrutiny. During all this not a +word was spoken. Democrates observed the beautiful mute emerge from an +inner chamber and silently take station at his master's side, following +the papers also with wonderful, eager eyes. Only after a long interval the +Prince spoke. + +"Well--you bring what purports to be private memoranda of Themistocles on +the equipment and arraying of the Athenian fleet. Yet these are only +copies." + +"Copies; the originals cannot stay in my possession. It were ruin to give +them up." + +The Prince turned to Hiram. + +"And do you say, from what you know of these things, these memoranda are +genuine?" + +"Genuine. That is the scanty wisdom of the least of your Highness's +slaves." + +The Oriental bowed himself, then stood erect in a manner that reminded +Democrates of some serpent that had just coiled and uncoiled. + +"Good," continued the emissary; "yet I must ask our good Athenian to +confirm them with an oath." + +The orator groaned. He had not expected this last humiliation; but being +forced to drink the cup, he drained it to the lees. He swore by Zeus +Orchios, Watcher of Oaths, and Dike, the Eternal Justice, that he brought +true copies, and that if he was perjured, he called a curse upon himself +and all his line. The Cyprian received his oath with calm satisfaction, +then held out the half of a silver shekel broken in the middle. + +"Show this to Mydon, the Sicyonian banker at Phaleron. He holds its +counterpart. He will pay the man who completes the coin ten talents." + +Democrates received the token, but felt that he must stand upon his +dignity. + +"I have given an oath, stranger, but give the like to me. What proof have +I of this Mydon?" + +The question seemed to rouse the unseen lion in the Cyprian. His eye +kindled. His voice swelled. + +"We leave oaths, Hellene, to men of trade and barter, to men of trickery +and guile. The Aryan noble is taught three things: to fear the king, to +bend the bow, to speak the truth. And he learns all well. I have +spoken,--my word is my oath." + +The Athenian shrank at the storm he had roused. But the Prince almost +instantly curbed himself. His voice sank again to its easy tone of +conciliation. + +"So much for my word, good friend; yet better than an oath, look here. Can +the man who bears this ring afford to tell a lie?" + +He extended his right hand. On the second finger was a huge beryl signet. +Democrates bent over it. + +"Two seated Sphynxes and a winged cherub flying above,--the seal of the +royal Achaemenians of Persia! You are sent by Xerxes himself. You are--" + +The Prince raised a warning finger. "Hush, Athenian. Think what you will, +but do not name me, though soon my name shall fly through all the world." + +"So be it," rejoined Democrates, his hands clutching the broken coin as at +a last reprieve from death. "But be warned, even though I bear you no +good-will. Themistocles is suspicious. Sicinnus his agent, a sly cat, is +searching for you. The other day Themistocles, in the boat at Peiraeus, was +fain to have you questioned. If detected, I cannot save you." + +The Prince shrugged his shoulders. + +"Good Democrates, I come of a race that trusts in the omnipotence of God +and does the right. Duty requires me in Athens. What Ahura-Mazda and +Mithra his glorious vicegerent will, that shall befall me, be I in Hellas +or in safe Ecbatana. The decree of the Most High, written among the stars, +is good. I do not shun it." + +The words were spoken candidly, reverently. Democrates drew toward the +door, and the others did not strive to detain him. + +"As you will," spoke the Athenian; "I have warned you. Trust then your +God. I have sold myself this once, but do not call me friend. Necessity is +a sharp goad. May our paths never cross again!" + +"Until you again have need," said the Prince, not seeking to wring from +the other any promise. + +Democrates muttered a sullen farewell and went down the dark stairs. The +light in Phormio's house was out. No one seemed to be watching. On the way +homeward Democrates comforted himself with the reflection that although +the memoranda he sold were genuine, Themistocles often changed his plans, +and he could see to it this scheme for arraying the war fleet was speedily +altered. No real harm then would come to Hellas. And in his hand was the +broken shekel,--the talisman to save him from destruction. Only when +Democrates thought of Glaucon and Hermione he was fain to grit his teeth, +while many times it returned to him, "They think it was _Glaucon_ who has +been twice now to visit the Babylonish carpet-seller." + + * * * * * * * + +As the door had closed behind the orator, the Prince had strode across the +rugs to the window--and spat forth furiously as in extreme disgust. + +"Fool, knave, villain! I foul my lips by speaking to his accursed ears!" + +The tongue in which he uttered this was the purest "Royal Persian," such +as one might hear in the king's court. The beautiful "mute," mute no +longer, glided across the chamber and laid both hands upon his shoulder +with a gracious caress. + +"And yet you bear with these treacherous creatures, you speak them fair?" +was the remark in the same musical tongue. + +"Yes, because there is sore need. Because, with all their faithlessness, +covetousness, and guile, these Hellenes are the keenest, subtlest race +beneath Mithra's glorious light. And we Persians must play with them, +master them, and use them to make us lords of all the world." + +Hiram had disappeared behind a curtain. The Prince lifted her silver +embroidered red cap. Over the graceful shoulders fell a mass of clear gold +hair, so golden one might have hidden shining darics within it. The +shining head pressed against the Persian's breast. In this attitude, with +the loose dress parting to show the tender lines, there could be no doubt +of the other's sex. The Prince laid his hand upon her neck and drew her +bright face nearer. + +"This is a mad adventure on which we two have come," he spoke; "how nearly +you were betrayed at the Isthmus, when the Athenian saved you! A blunder +by Hiram, an ill-turn of Fate, will ruin us yet. It is far, Rose of Eran, +from Athens to the pleasant groves of Susa and the sparkling Choaspes." + +"But the adventure is ending," answered she, with smiling confidence; +"Mazda has guarded us. As you have said--we are in his hand, alike here and +in my brother's palace. And we have seen Greece and Athens--the country and +city which you will conquer, which you will rule." + +"Yes," he said, letting his eyes pass from her face to the vista of the +Acropolis, which lay in fair view under the moonlight. "How noble a city +this! Xerxes has promised that I shall be satrap of Hellas, Athens shall +be my capital, and you, O best beloved, you shall be mistress of Athens." + +"I shall be mistress of Athens," echoed she, "but you, husband and lord, +would that men might give you a higher name than satrap, chief of the +Great King's slaves!" + +"Xerxes is king," he answered her. + +"My brother wears the purple cap. He sits on the throne of Cyrus the Great +and Darius the Dauntless. I would be a loyal Aryan, the king is indeed in +Susa or Babylon. But for me the true king of Media and Persia--is here." +And she lifted proud eyes to her husband. + +"You are bold, Rose of Eran," he smiled, not angry at her implication; +"more cautious words than these have brought many in peril of the +bow-string. But, by Mithra the Fiend-Smiter, why were you not made a man? +Then truly would your mother Atossa have given Darius an heir right worthy +the twenty kingdoms!" + +She gave a gentle laugh. + +"The Most High ordains the best. Have I not the noblest kingdom? Am I not +your wife?" + +His laugh answered her. + +"Then I am greater than Xerxes. I love my empire the best!" + +He leaned again from the lattice, "O, fairest of cities, and we shall win +it! See how the tawny rock turns to silver beneath the moonbeams! How +clearly burn the stars over the plain and the mountain! And these Greeks, +clever, wise, beautiful, when we have mastered them, have taught them our +Aryan obedience and love of truth, what servants will they not become! For +we are ordained to conquer. Mazda has given us empire without limit, from +the Indus to the Great Ocean of the West,--all shall be ours; for we are +Persians, the race to rule forever." + +"We will conquer," she said dreamily, as enchanted as was he by the +beauties of the night. + +"From the day Cyrus your grandfather flung down Cambyses the Mede, the +High God has been with us. Egypt, Assyria, Babylon--have all bowed under +our yoke. The Lydian at golden Sardis, the Tartar on the arid steppes, the +Hindoo by his sacred river, all send tribute to our king, and Hellas--" he +held out his arms confidently--"shall be the brightest star in the Persian +tiara. When Darius your father lay dying, I swore to him, 'Master, fear +not; I will avenge you on Athens and on all the Greeks.' And in one brief +year, O _fravashi_, soul of the great departed, I may make good the vow. I +will make these untamed Hellenes bow their proud necks to a king." + +Her own eyes brightened, looking on him, as he spoke in pride and power. + +"And yet," she could not keep back the question, "as we have moved through +this Hellas, and seen its people, living without princes, or with princes +of little power, sometimes a strange thought comes. These perverse, +unobedient folk, false as they are, and ununited, have yet a strength to +do great things, a strength which even we Aryans lack." + +He shook his head. + +"It cannot be. Mazda ordained a king to rule, the rest to obey. And all +the wits of Hellas have no strength until they learn that lesson well. But +I will teach it them." + +"For some day you will be their king?" spoke the woman. He did not +reprove, but stood beside her, gazing forth upon the night. In the +moonlight the columns and sculptures of the great temple on the Acropolis +stood out in minute tracery They could see all the caverns and jagged +ledges on the massy Rock. The flat roofs of the sleeping city lay like a +dark and peaceful ocean. The mountains spread around in shadow-wrapped +hush. Far away the dark stretch of the sea sent back a silver shimmering +in answer to the moon. A landscape only possible at Athens! The two +sensitive Orientals' souls were deeply touched. For long they were silent, +then the husband spoke. + +"Twenty days more; we are safe in Sardis, the adventure ended. The war +only remains, and the glory, the conquest,--and thou. O Ahura-Mazda," he +spoke upward to the stars, "give to thy Persians this land. For when Thou +hast given this, Thou wilt keep back nothing of all the world." + + + + + CHAPTER X + + + DEMOCRATES RESOLVES + + +Democrates surpassed himself when arraigning the knavish contractor. +"Nestor and Odysseus both speak to us," shouted Polus in glee, flinging +his black bean in the urn. "What eloquence, what righteous fury when he +painted the man's infamy to pillage the city in a crisis like this!" + +So the criminal was sent to death and Democrates was showered with +congratulations. Only one person seemed hardly satisfied with all the +young orator did,--Themistocles. The latter told his lieutenant candidly he +feared all was not being done to apprehend the Persian emissary. +Themistocles even took it upon himself to send Sicinnus to run down +several suspects, and just on the morning of the day preceding the +Panathenaea--the great summer festival--Democrates received a hint which sent +him home very thoughtful. He had met his chief in the Agora as he was +leaving the Government-House, and Themistocles had again asked if he had +smelt aught of the Persian agent. He had not. + +"Then you would well devote more time to finding his scent, and less to +convicting a pitiful embezzler. You know the Alopece suburb?" + +"Certainly." + +"And the house of Phormio the fishmonger?" to which Democrates nodded. + +"Well, Sicinnus has been watching the quarter. A Babylonish carpet-seller +has rooms opposite Phormio. The man is suspicious, does no trading, and +Phormio's wife told Sicinnus an odd tale." + +"What tale?" Democrates glanced at a passing chariot, avoiding +Themistocles's gaze. + +"Why, twice the Barbarian, she swears, has had an evening visitor--and he +our dear Glaucon." + +"Impossible." + +"Of course. The good woman is mistaken. Still, question her. Pry into this +Babylonian's doings. He may be selling more things than carpets. If he has +corrupted any here in Athens,--by Pluto the Implacable, I will make them +tell out the price!" + +"I'll inquire at once." + +"Do so. The matter grows serious." + +Themistocles caught sight of one of the archons and hastened across the +Agora to have a word with him. Democrates passed his hand across his +forehead, beaded with sudden sweat-drops. He knew--though Themistocles had +said not a word--that his superior was beginning to distrust his efforts, +and that Sicinnus was working independently. Democrates had great respect +for the acuteness of that Asiatic. He was coming perilously near the truth +already. If the Cyprian and Hiram were arrested, the latter at least would +surely try to save his life by betraying their nocturnal visitor. To get +the spy safely out of Athens would be the first step,--but not all. +Sicinnus once upon the scent would not readily drop it until he had +discovered the emissary's confederate. And of the fate of that confederate +Themistocles had just given a grim hint. There was one other solution +possible. If Democrates could discover the confederate _himself_, Sicinnus +would regard the matter as cleared up and drop all interest therein. All +these possibilities raced through the orator's head, as does the past +through one drowning. A sudden greeting startled him. + +"A fair morning, Democrates." It was Glaucon. He walked arm-in-arm with +Cimon. + +"A fair morning, indeed. Where are you going?" + +"To the Peiraeus to inspect the new tackling of the _Nausicaae_. You will +join us?" + +"Unfortunately I argue a case before the King Archon." + +"Be as eloquent as in your last speech. Do you know, Cimon declares I am +disloyal too, and that you will soon be prosecuting me?" + +"Avert it, gods! What do you mean?" + +"Why, he is sending a letter to Argos," asserted Cimon. "Now I say Argos +has Medized, therefore no good Hellene should correspond with a traitorous +Argive." + +"Be jury on my treachery," commanded Glaucon. "Ageladas the +master-sculptor sends me a bronze Perseus in honour of my victory. Shall I +churlishly send him no thanks because he lives in Argos?" + +" 'Not guilty' votes the jury; the white beans prevail. So the letter goes +to-day?" + +"To-morrow afternoon. You know Seuthes of Corinth--the bow-legged fellow +with a big belly. He goes home to-morrow afternoon after seeing the +procession and the sacrifice." + +"He goes by sea?" asked Democrates, casually. + +"By land; no ship went to his liking. He will lie overnight at Eleusis." + +The friends went their ways. Democrates hardly saw or heard anything until +he was in his own chambers. Three things were graven on his mind: Sicinnus +was watching, the Babylonian was suspected, Glaucon was implicated and was +sending a letter to Argos. + + * * * * * * * + +Bias the Thracian was discovered that afternoon by his master lurking in a +corner of the chamber. Democrates seized a heavy dog-whip, lashed the boy +unmercifully, then cast him out, threatening that eavesdropping would be +rewarded by "cutting into shoe soles." Then the master resumed his +feverish pacings and the nervous twisting of his fingers. Unfortunately, +Bias felt certain the threat would never have been uttered unless the +weightiest of matters had been on foot. As in all Greek dwellings, +Democrates's rooms were divided not by doors but by hanging curtains, and +Bias, letting curiosity master fear, ensconced himself again behind one of +these and saw all his master's doings. What Democrates said and did, +however, puzzled his good servant quite sufficiently. + +Democrates had opened the privy cupboard, taken out one of the caskets and +scattered its contents upon the table, then selected a papyrus, and seemed +copying the writing thereon with extreme care. Next one of the clay seals +came into play. Democrates was testing it upon wax. Then the orator rose, +dashed the wax upon the floor, put his sandal thereon, tore the papyrus on +which he wrote to bits. Again he paced restlessly, his hands clutching his +hair, his forehead frowns and blackness, while Bias thought he heard him +muttering as he walked:-- + +"O Zeus! O Apollo! O Athena! I cannot do this thing! Deliver me! Deliver!" + +Then back to the table again, once more to pick up the mysterious clay, +again to copy, to stamp on the wax, to fling down, mutilate, and destroy. +The pantomime was gone through three times. Bias could make nothing of it. +Since the day his parents--following the barbarous Thracian custom--had sold +him into slavery and he had passed into Democrates's service, the lad had +never seen his master acting thus. + +"Clearly the _kyrios_ is mad," was his own explanation, and growing +frightened at following the strange movements of his lord, he crept from +his retreat and tried to banish uncanny fears at a safe distance, by tying +a thread to the leg of a gold-chafer(5) and watching its vain efforts at +flight. Yet had he continued his eavesdropping he might have found--if not +the key to all Democrates's doings--at least a partial explanation. For the +fourth time the papyrus had been written, for the fourth time the orator +had torn it up. Then his eyes went down to the lump of clay before him on +the table. + +"Curses upon the miserable stuff!" he swore almost loudly; "it is this +which has set the evil thoughts to racing. Destroy _that_, and the deed is +beyond my power." + +He held up the clay and eyed it as a miser might his gold. + +"What a little lump! Not very hard. I can dash it on the floor and it +dissolves in dust. And yet, and yet--all Elysium, all Tartarus, are pent up +for me in just this bit of clay." + +He picked at it with his finger and broke a small piece from the edge. + +"A little more, the stamp is ruined. I could not use it. Better if it were +ruined. And yet,--and yet,--" + +He laid the clay upon the table and sat watching it wistfully. + +"O Father Zeus!" he broke out after silence, "if I were not compelled by +fear! Sicinnus is so sharp, Themistocles so unmerciful! It would be a +terrible death to die,--and every man is justified in shunning death." + +He looked at the inanimate lump as if he expected it to answer him. + +"Ah, I am all alone. No one to counsel me. In every other trouble when has +it been as this? Glaucon? Cimon? Themistocles?--What would they advise?"--he +ended with a laugh more bitter than a sob. "And I must save myself, but at +such a price!" + +He pressed his hands over his eyes. + +"Curses on the hour I met Lycon! Curses on the Cyprian and his gold! It +would have been better to have told Glaucon and let him save me now and +hate me forever after. But I have sold myself to the Cyprian. The deed +cannot be taken back." + +But as he said it, he arose, took the charmed bit of clay, replaced in the +box, and locked the coffer. His hand trembled as he did it. + +"I cannot do this thing. I have been foolish, wicked,--but I must not be +driven mad by fear. The Cyprian must quit Athens to-morrow. I can throw +Sicinnus off the scent. I shall never be the worse." + +He walked with the box toward the cupboard, but stopped halfway. + +"It is a dreadful death to die;"--his thoughts raced and were half +uttered,--"hemlock!--men grow cold limb by limb and keep all their faculties +to the end. And the crows in the Barathrum, and the infamy upon my +father's name! When was a son of the house of Codrus branded 'A Traitor to +Athens'? Is it wickedness to save one's own life?" + +Instead of going to the cupboard he approached the window. The sun beat +hotly, but as he leaned forth into the street he shivered as on a winter's +morn. In blank wretchedness he watched the throng beneath the window, +pannier-laden asses, venders of hot sausage with their charcoal stoves and +trays, youths going to and from the gymnasium, slaves returning from +market. How long he stood thus, wretched, helpless, he did not know. At +last he stirred himself. + +"I cannot stand gaping like a fool forever. An omen, by every god an omen! +Ah! what am I to do?" He glanced toward the sky in vain hope of a lucky +raven or eagle winging out of the east, but saw only blue and brightness. +Then his eye went down the street, and at the glance the warm blood +tingled from his forehead to his heels. + +She was passing,--Hermione, child of Hermippus. She walked before, two +comely maids went after with her stool and parasol; but they were the +peonies beside the rose. She had thrown her blue veil back. The sun played +over the sheen of her hair. As she moved, her floating saffron dress of +the rare muslin of Amorgos now revealed her delicate form, now clothed her +in an enchanting cloud. She held her head high, as if proud of her own +grace and of the beauty and fair name of her husband. She never looked +upward, nor beheld how Democrates's eyes grew like bright coals as he +gazed on her. He saw her clear high forehead, he heard--or thought he heard +despite the jar of the street--the rustle of the muslin robe. Hermione +passed, nor ever knew how, by taking this way from the house of a friend, +she coloured the skein of life for three mortals--for herself, her husband, +and Democrates. + +Democrates followed her with his eyes until she vanished around the +fountain at the street corner; then sprang back from the window. The +workings of his face were terrible. It was an instant when men grasp the +godlike or sink to the demon, when they do deeds never to be recalled. + +"The omen!" he almost cried, "the omen! Not Zeus but Hermes the Guileful +sent it. He will be with me. She is Glaucon's wife. But if not his, whose +then but mine? I will do the deed to the uttermost. The god is with me." + +He flung the casket upon the table and spread its fateful contents again +before him. His hand flew over the papyrus with marvellous speed and +skill. He knew that all his faculties were at his full command and +unwontedly acute. + +Bias was surprised at his sport by a sudden clapping of his master's +hands. + +"What is it, _kyrie_?" + +"Go to Agis. He keeps the gaming-house in the Ceramicus. You know where. +Tell him to come hither instantly. He shall not lack reward. Make your +feet fly. Here is something to speed them." + +He flung at the boy a coin. Bias opened eyes and mouth in wonder. It was +not silver, but a golden daric. + +"Don't blink at it, sheep, but run. Bring Agis," ordered the master,--and +Bias's legs never went faster than on that afternoon. + +Agis came. Democrates knew his man and had no difficulty in finding his +price. They remained talking together till it was dark, yet in so guarded +a tone that Bias, though he listened closely, was unable to make out +anything. When Agis went away, he carried two letters. One of these he +guarded as if holding the crown jewels of the Great King; the second he +despatched by a discreet myrmidon to the rooms of the Cyprian in Alopece. +Its contents were pertinent and ran thus:-- + +"Democrates to the stranger calling himself a prince of Cyprus, +greeting:--Know that Themistocles is aware of your presence in Athens, and +grows suspicious of your identity. Leave Athens to-morrow or all is lost. +The confusion accompanying the festival will then make escape easy. The +man to whom I entrust this letter will devise with Hiram the means for +your flight by ship from the havens. May our paths never cross +again!--_Chaire._" + +After Agis was gone the old trembling came again to Democrates. He had +Bias light all the lamps. The room seemed full of lurking +goblins,--harpies, gorgons, the Hydra, the Minotaur, every other foul and +noxious shape was waiting to spring forth. And, most maddening of all, the +chorus of AEschylus, that Song of the Furies Democrates had heard recited +at the Isthmus, rang in the miserable man's ears:-- + + "With scourge and with ban + We prostrate the man, + Who with smooth-woven wile, + And a fair-faced smile + Hath planted a snare for his friend. + Though fleet, we shall find him; + Though strong, we shall bind him, + Who planted a snare for his friend." + +Democrates approached the bust of Hermes standing in one corner. The +brazen face seemed to wear a smile of malignant gladness at the fulfilment +of his will. + +"Hermes," prayed the orator, "Hermes Dolios, god of craft and lies, +thieves' god, helper of evil,--be with me now. To Zeus, to Athena the pure, +I dare not pray. Prosper me in the deed to which I set my hand,"--he +hesitated, he dared not bribe the shrewd god with too mean a gift, "and I +vow to set in thy temple at Tanagra three tall tripods of pure gold. So be +with me on the morrow, and I will not forget thy favour." + +The brazen face still smiled on; the room was very still. Yet Democrates +took comfort. Hermes was a great god and would help him. When the song of +the Furies grew too loud, Democrates silenced it by summoning back +Hermione's face and asking one triumphant question:-- + +"She is Glaucon's wife. But if not his, whose then but mine?" + + + + + CHAPTER XI + + + THE PANATHENAEA + + +Flowers on every head, flowers festooned about each pillar, and flowers +under foot when one crossed the Agora. Beneath the sheltering porticos +lurked bright-faced girls who pelted each passer with violets, narcissus, +and hyacinths. For this was the morn of the final crowning day of the +Panathenaea, greatest, gladdest of Athenian festivals. + +Athletic contests had preceded it and stately Pyrrhic dances of men in +full armour. There had been feasting and merry-making despite the +darkening shadow of the Persian. Athens seemed awakened only to rejoice. +To-day was the procession to the Acropolis, the bearing of the sacred robe +to Athena, the public sacrifice for all the people. Not even the peril of +Xerxes could hinder a gladsome holiday. + +The sun had just risen above Hymettus, the Agora shops were closed, but +the plaza itself and the lesches--the numerous little club houses about +it--overran with gossipers. On the stone bench before one of these buzzed +the select coterie that of wont assembled in Clearchus's booth; only Polus +the juror now and then nodded and snored. He had sat up all night hearing +the priestesses chant their ceaseless litanies on the Acropolis. + +"Guilty--I vote guilty," the others heard him muttering, as his head sank +lower. + +"Wake up, friend," ordered Clearchus; "you're not condemning any poor +scoundrel now." + +"_Ai!_ ah!" Polus rubbed his eyes, "I only thought I was dropping the +black bean--" + +"Against whom?" quoth Crito, the fat contractor. + +"Whom? Why that aristocrat Glaucon, surely,--to-night--" Polus suddenly +checked himself and began to roll his eyes. + +"You've a dreadful grievance against him," remarked Clearchus; "the gods +know why." + +"The wise patriot can see many things," observed Polus, complacently, +"only I repeat--wait till to-night--and then--" + +"What then?" demanded all the others. + +"Then you shall see," announced the juror, with an oratorical flourish of +his dirty himation, "and not you only but all of Athens." + +Clearchus grinned. + +"Our dear Polus has a vast sense of his own importance. And who has been +making you partner of the state secrets--Themistocles?" + +"A man almost his peer, the noble patriot Democrates. Ask Phormio's wife, +Lampaxo; ask--" Once more he broke off to lay a finger on his lips. "This +will be a notable day for Athens!" + +"Our good friend surely thinks so!" rejoined the potter, dryly; "but since +he won't trust us with his precious secret, I think it much more +interesting to watch the people crossing the square. The procession must +be gathering outside the Dipylon Gate. Yonder rides Themistocles now to +take command." + +The statesman cantered past on a shining white Thessalian. At his heels +were prancing Cimon, Democrates, Glaucon, and many another youth of the +noble houses of Athens. At sight of the son of Conon, Polus had wagged his +head in a manner utterly perplexing to his associates, and they were again +perplexed when they saw Democrates wheel back from the side of his chief +and run up for a hurried word with a man in the crowd they recognized as +Agis. + +"Agis is a strange fish to have dealings with a 'steward' of the +procession to-day," wondered Crito. + +"You'll be enlightened to-morrow," said Polus, exasperatingly. Then as the +band of horsemen cantered down the broad Dromos street, "Ah, me,--I wish I +could afford to serve in the cavalry. It's far safer than tugging a spear +on foot. But there's one young man out yonder on whose horse I'd not +gladly be sitting." + +"_Phui_," complained Clearchus, "you are anxious to eat Glaucon skin and +bones! There goes his wife now, all in white flowers and ribbons, to take +her place in the march with the other young matrons. Zeus! But she is as +handsome as her husband." + +"She needn't 'draw up her eyebrows,' "(6) growled the juror, viciously; +"they're marks of disloyalty even in her. Can't you see she wears shoes of +the Theban model, laced open so as to display her bare feet, though +everybody knows Thebes is Medizing? She's no better than Glaucon." + +"Hush," ordered Clearchus, rising, "you have spoken folly enough. Those +trumpets tell us we must hasten if we hope to join in the march +ourselves." + + * * * * * * * + +Who can tell the great procession? Not the maker of books,--what words call +down light on the glancing eyes, on the moving lines of colour? Not the +artist,--his pencil may not limn ten thousand human beings, beautiful and +glad, sweeping in bright array across the welcoming city. Nor can the +sculptor's marble shape the marching forms, the rippling draperies, the +warm and buoyant life. The life of Athens was the crown of Greece. The +festival of the Panathenaea was the crown of Athens. + +Never had Helios looked down on fairer landscape or city. The doors of the +patrician houses were opened; for a day unguarded, unconstrained, the +daughters, wives, and mothers of the nobility of Athens walked forth in +their queenly beauty. One could see that the sculptor's master works were +but rigid counterparts of lovelier flesh and blood. One could see +veterans, stalwart almost as on the day of the old-time battles, but +crowned with the snow of years. One could see youths, and need no longer +marvel the young Apollo was accounted fair. Flowers, fluttering mantles, +purple, gold, the bravery of armour, rousing music--what was missing? All +conjoined to make a perfect spectacle. + +The sun had chased the last vapours from the sky. The little ravines on +distant Hymettus stood forth sharply as though near at hand. The sun grew +hot, but men and women walked with bared heads, and few were the untanned +cheeks and shoulders. Children of the South, and lovers of the Sun-King, +the Athenians sought no shelter, their own bright humour rejoicing in the +light. + +On the broad parade ground outside the Dipylon, the towering northwestern +gate, the procession gathered. Themistocles the Handsome, never more +gallant than now upon the white Thessalian, was ordering the array, the +ten young men, "stewards of the Panathenaea," assisting. He sent his last +glance down the long files, his ivory wand signed to the musicians in the +van. + +"Play! march!" + +Fifty pipers blew, fifty citharas tinkled. The host swept into the city. + +Themistocles led. Under the massy double gate caracoled the charger. The +robe of his rider blew out behind him like purple wings. There was the cry +and clang of cymbals and drums. From the gray battlement yellow daisies +rained down like gold. Cantering, halting, advancing, beckoning, the chief +went forward, and behind swept the "knights," the mounted chivalry of +Athens,--three hundred of the noblest youths of Attica, on beasts sleek and +spirited, and in burnished armour, but about every helm a wreath. Behind +the "knights" rode the magistracy, men white-headed and grave, some +riding, some in flower-decked cars. After these the victors in the games +and contests of the preceding day. Next the elders of Athens--men of +blameless life, beautiful in hale and honoured age. Next the _ephebi_,--the +youths close to manhood, whose fair limbs glistened under their sweeping +chitons. Behind them, their sisters, unveiled, the maidens of Athens, +walking in rhythmic beauty, and with them their attendants, daughters of +resident foreigners. Following upon these was the long line of bleating +victims, black bulls with gilded horns and ribbon-decked rams without +blemish. And next--but here the people leaned from parapet, house-roof, +portico, and shouted louder than ever: + +"The car and the robe of Athena! Hail, _Io, paean!_ hail!" + +Up the street on a car shaped like a galley moved the peplus, the great +robe of the sovran goddess. From afar one could see the wide folds spread +on a shipyard and rippling in the breeze. But what a sail! One year long +had the noblest women of Attica wrought on it, and all the love and art +that might breathe through a needle did not fail. It was a sheen of +glowing colour. The strife of Athena with the brutish giants, her contest +with Arachne, the deeds of the heroes of Athens--Erechtheus, Theseus, +Codrus: these were some of the pictures. The car moved noiselessly on +wheels turned by concealed mechanism. Under the shadow of the sail walked +the fairest of its makers, eight women, maids and young matrons, clothed +in white mantles and wreaths, going with stately tread, unmoved by the +shouting as though themselves divine. Seven walked together. But one, +their leader, went before,--Hermione, child of Hermippus. + +Many an onlooker remembered this sight of her, the deep spiritual eyes, +the symmetry of form and fold, the perfect carriage. Fair wishes flew out +to her like doves. + +"May she be blessed forever! May King Helios forever bring her joy!" + +Some cried thus. More thought thus. All seemed more glad for beholding +her. + +Behind the peplus in less careful array went thousands of citizens of +every age and station, all in festival dress, all crowned with flowers. +They followed the car up the Dromos Street, across the cheering Agora, and +around the southern side of the Acropolis, making a full circuit of the +citadel. Those who watched saw Glaucon with Democrates and Cimon give +their horses to slaves, and mount the bare knoll of Areopagus, looking +down upon the western face of the Acropolis. As the procession swung about +to mount the steep, Hermione lifted her glance to Areopagus, saw her +husband gazing down on her, raised her hands in delighted gesture, and he +answered her. It was done in the sight of thousands, and the thousands +smiled with the twain. + +"Justice! The beautiful salutes the beautiful." And who thought the less +of Hermione for betraying the woman beneath the mien of the goddess? + +But now the march drew to an end. The procession halted, reformed, +commenced the rugged way upward. Suddenly from the bastion of the +Acropolis above wafted new music. Low, melancholy at first, as the pipers +and harpers played in the dreamy Lydian mode, till, strengthening into the +bolder AEolic, the strains floated down, inviting, "Come up hither," then +stronger still it pealed in the imperious crash of the Doric as the +procession mounted steadily. Now could be seen great Lamprus, Orpheus's +peer, the master musician, standing on the balcony above the gate, beating +time for the loud choral. + +A chorus amongst the marchers and a second chorus in the citadel joined +together, till the red crags shook,--singing the old hymn of the Homeridae +to Athena, homely, rude, yet dear with the memory of ages:-- + + "Pallas Athena, gray-eyed queen of wisdom, + Thy praise I sing! + Steadfast, all holy, sure ward of our city, + Triton-born rule whom High Zeus doth bring + Forth from his forehead. + Thou springest forth valiant; + The clangour swells far as thy direful arms ring. + + "All the Immortals in awed hush are bending, + Beautiful, terrible, thy light thou'rt sending + Flashed from thine eyes and thy pitiless spear. + Under thy presence Olympus is groaning, + Earth heaves in terrors, the blue deeps are moaning; + 'Wisdom, the All-Seeing Goddess is here!' + + "Now the sea motionless freezes before thee; + Helios, th' Sun-Lord, draws rein to adore thee; + Whilst thou, O Queen, puttest on divine might. + Zeus, the deep-councillor, gladly greets thee! + Hail, Holy Virgin--our loud paean meets thee, + PALLAS, CHASTE WISDOM, DISPELLER OF NIGHT!" + +Up the face of the Rock, up the long, statue-lined way, till through the +gate the vision burst,--the innumerable fanes and altars, the assembly of +singers and priests, the great temple in its pride of glittering marble. +Clearer, stronger sounded the choral, shot up through the limpid azure; +swaying, burning, throbbing, sobs and shouting, tears and transports, so +mounted new strains of the mighty chorus, lit through with the flames of +Homeric verse. Then stronger yet was the mingling of voices, earth, sky, +deep, beasts' cry and gods' cry, all voiced, as chorus answered to chorus. +Now the peplus was wafted on a wave of song toward the temple's +dawn-facing portal, when from beneath the columns, as the tall valves +turned and the sun leaped into the cella, hidden voices returned the +former strains--mournful at first. Out of the adytum echoed a cry of +anguish, the lament of the Mother of Wisdom at her children's deathly +ignorance, which plucks them down from the Mount of the Beautiful Vision. +But as the thousands neared, as its paeans became a prayer, as yearning +answered to yearning, lo! the hidden song swelled and soared,--for the +goddess looked for her own, and her own were come to her. And thus in +beneath the massy pediment, in through the wide-flung doors, floated the +peplus, while under its guardian shadow walked Hermione. + +So they brought the robe to Athena. + + * * * * * * * + +Glaucon and his companions had watched the procession ascend, then +followed to see the sacrifice upon the giant altar. The King Archon cut +the throat of the first ox and made public prayer for the people. Wood +soaked in perfumed oil blazed upon the huge stone platform of the +sacrifice. Girls flung frankincense upon the roaring flames. The music +crashed louder. All Athens seemed mounting the citadel. The chief +priestess came from the holy house, and in a brief hush proclaimed that +the goddess had received the robe with all favour. After her came the +makers of the peplus, and Hermione rejoined her husband. + +"Let us not stay to the public feast," was her wish; "let these hucksters +and charcoal-burners who live on beans and porridge scramble for a bit of +burned meat, but we return to Colonus." + +"Good then," answered Glaucon, "and these friends of course go with us." + +Cimon assented readily. Democrates hesitated, and while hesitating was +seized by the cloak by none other than Agis, who gave a hasty whisper and +vanished in the swirling multitude before Democrates could do more than +nod. + +"He's an uncanny fox," remarked Cimon, mystified; "I suppose you know his +reputation?" + +"The servant of Athens must sometimes himself employ strange servants," +evaded the orator. + +"Yet you might suffer your friends to understand--" + +"Dear son of Miltiades," Democrates's voice shook in the slightest, "the +meaning of my dealings with Agis I pray Athena you may never have cause to +know." + +"Which means you will not tell us. Then by Zeus I swear the secret no +doubt is not worth the knowing." Cimon stopped suddenly, as he saw a look +of horror on Hermione's face. "Ah, lady! what's the matter?" + +"Glaucon," she groaned, "frightful omen! I am terrified!" + +Glaucon's hands dropped at her cry. He himself paled slightly. In one of +his moods of abstraction he had taken the small knife from his belt and +begun to pare his nails,--to do which after a sacrifice was reputed an +infallible means of provoking heaven's anger. The friends were grave and +silent. The athlete gave a forced laugh. + +"The goddess will be merciful to-day. To-morrow I will propitiate her with +a goat." + +"Now, now, not to-morrow," urged Hermione, with white lips, but her +husband refused. + +"The goddess is surfeited with sacrifices this morning. She would forget +mine." + +Then he led the rest, elbowing the way through the increasing swarms of +young and old, and down into the half-deserted city. Democrates left them +in the Agora, professing great stress of duties. + +"Strange man," observed Cimon, as he walked away; "what has he this past +month upon his mind? That Persian spy, I warrant. But the morning wanes. +It's a long way to Colonus. 'Let us drink, for the sun is in the zenith.' +So says Alcaeus--and I love the poet, for he like myself is always thirsty." + +The three went on to the knoll of Colonus where Glaucon dwelt. Cimon was +overrunning with puns and jests, but the others not very merry. The omen +of Glaucon's thoughtlessness, or something else, made husband and wife +silent, yet it was a day when man or maid should have felt their spirits +rise. The sky had never been brighter, not in Athens. Never had the +mountains and sea spread more gloriously. From the warm olive-groves +sounded the blithesome note of the Attic grasshopper. The wind sweeping +over the dark cypresses by the house set their dark leaves to talking. The +afternoon passed in pleasure, friends going and coming; there was +laughter, music, and good stories. Hermione at least recovered part of her +brightness, but her husband, contrary to all custom, remained taciturn, +even melancholy. At last as the gentle tints of evening began to cover +hill and plain and the red-tiled roofs of the ample city, all the friends +were gone, saving only Cimon, and he--reckless fellow--was well able to +dispense with companionship, being, in the words of Theognis, "not +absolutely drunk, nor sober quite." Thus husband and wife found themselves +alone together on the marble bench beneath the old cypress. + +"Oh, _makaire_! dearest and best," asked Hermione, her hands touching his +face, "is it the omen that makes you grow so sad? For the sun of your life +is so seldom under clouds that when it is clouded at all, it seems as deep +darkness." + +He answered by pressing back her hair, "No, not the omen. I am not a slave +to chance like that. Yet to-day,--the wise God knows wherefore,--there comes +a sense of brooding fear. I have been too happy--too blessed with +friendship, triumph, love. It cannot last. Clotho the Spinner will weary +of making my thread of gold and twine in a darker stuff. Everything lovely +must pass. What said Glaucus to Diomedes? 'Even as the race of leaves, so +likewise are those of men; the leaves that now are, the wind scattereth, +and the forest buddeth forth more again; thus also with the race of men, +one putteth forth, another ceaseth.' So even my joy must pass--" + +"Glaucon,--take back the words. You frighten me." + +He felt her in his arms trembling, and cursed himself for what he had +uttered. + +"A blight upon my tongue! I have frightened you, and without cause. Surely +the day is bright enough, surely Athena having been thus far good we can +trust her goodness still. Who knows but that it be many a year before our +sun comes to his setting!" + +He kissed her many times. She grew comforted, but they had not been +together long when they were surprised by the approach of Themistocles and +Hermippus. Hermione ran to her father. + +"Themistocles and I were summoned hither," explained Hermippus, "by a +message from Democrates bidding us come to Colonus at once, on an urgent +matter touching the public weal." + +"He is not here. I cannot understand," marvelled Glaucon; but while he +spoke, he was interrupted by the clatter of hoofs from a party of horsemen +spurring furiously and heading from the pass of Daphni. + + + + + CHAPTER XII + + + A TRAITOR TO HELLAS + + +Before the house six riders were reining,--five Scythian "bowmen" of the +constabulary of Athens, tow-headed Barbarians, grinning but mute; the +sixth was Democrates. He dismounted with a bound, and as he did so the +friends saw that his face was red as with pent-up excitement. Themistocles +advanced hastily. + +"What's this? Your hands seem a-quiver. Whom has that constable tied up +behind him?" + +"Seuthes!" cried Glaucon, bounding back, "Seuthes, by every god, and +pinioned like a felon." + +"Ay!" groaned the prisoner, lashed to a horse, "what have I done to be +seized and tried like a bandit? Why should I be set upon by these +gentlemen while I was enjoying a quiet pot of wine in the tavern at +Daphni, and be haled away as if to crucifixion? _Mu! Mu!_ make them untie +me, dear Master Glaucon." + +"Put down your prisoner," ordered Democrates, "and all you constables stay +without the house. I ask Themistocles, Hermippus, and Glaucon to come to +an inner room. I must examine this man. The matter is serious." + +"Serious?" echoed the bewildered athlete, "I can vouch for Seuthes--an +excellent Corinthian, come to Athens to sell some bales of wool--" + +"Answer, Glaucon," Democrates's voice was stern. "Has he no letters from +you for Argos?" + +"Certainly." + +"You admit it?" + +"By the dog of Egypt, do you doubt my word?" + +"Friends," called Democrates, dramatically, "mark you that Glaucon admits +he has employed this Seuthes as his courier." + +"Whither leads this mummery?" cried the athlete, growing at last angry. + +"If to nothing, I, Democrates, rejoice the most. Now I must bid you to +follow me." + +Seizing the snivelling Seuthes, the orator led into the house and to a +private chamber. The rest followed, in blank wonderment. Cimon had +recovered enough to follow--none too steadily. But when Hermione +approached, Democrates motioned her back. + +"Do not come. A painful scene may be impending." + +"What my husband can hear, that can I," was her retort. "Ah! but why do +you look thus dreadfully on Glaucon?" + +"I have warned you, lady. Do not blame me if you hear the worst," rejoined +Democrates, barring the door. A single swinging lamp shed a fitful light +on the scene--the whimpering prisoner, the others all amazed, the orator's +face, tense and white. Democrates's voice seemed metallic as he +continued:-- + +"Now, Seuthes, we must search you. Produce first the letter from Glaucon." + +The fat florid little Corinthian was dressed as a traveller, a gray +chalmys to his hips, a brimmed brown hat, and high black boots. His hands +were now untied. He tugged from his belt a bit of papyrus which Democrates +handed to Themistocles, enjoining "Open." + +Glaucon flushed. + +"Are you mad, Democrates, to violate my private correspondence thus?" + +"The weal of Athens outweighs even the pleasure of Glaucon," returned the +orator, harshly, "and you, Themistocles, note that Glaucon does not deny +that the seal here is his own." + +"I do not deny," cried the angry athlete. "Open, Themistocles, and let +this stupid comedy end." + +"And may it never change to tragedy!" proclaimed Democrates. "What do you +read, Themistocles?" + +"A courteous letter of thanks to Ageladas." The senior statesman was +frowning. "Glaucon is right. Either you are turned mad, or are victim of +some prank,--is it yours, Cimon?" + +"I am as innocent as a babe. I'd swear it by the Styx," responded that +young man, scratching his muddled head. + +"I fear we are not at the end of the examination," observed Democrates, +with ominous slowness. "Now, Seuthes, recollect your plight. Have you no +other letter about you?" + +"None!" groaned the unheroic Corinthian. "Ah! pity, kind sirs; what have I +done? Suffer me to go." + +"It is possible," remarked his prosecutor, "you are an innocent victim, or +at least do not realize the intent of what you bear. I must examine the +lining of your chalmys. Nothing. Your girdle. Nothing. Your hat, remove +it. Quite empty. Blessed be Athena if my fears prove groundless. But my +first duty is to Athens and Hellas. Ah! Your high boots. Remove the right +one." The orator felt within, and shook the boot violently. "Nothing +again. The left one, empty it seems. _Ei!_ what is this?" + +In a tense silence he shook from the boot a papyrus, rolled and sealed. It +fell on the floor at the feet of Themistocles, who, watching all his +lieutenant did, bent and seized it instantly; then it dropped from his +hands as a live coal. + +"The seal! The seal! May Zeus smite me blind if I see aright!" + +Hermippus, who had been following all the scene in silence, bent, lifted +the fateful paper, and he too gave a cry of grief. + +"It is the seal of Glaucon. How came it here?" + +"Glaucon,"--hard as Democrates's voice had been that night, it rang like +cold iron now,--"as the friend of your boyhood, and one who would still do +for you all he may, I urge you as you love me to look upon this seal." + +"I am looking," but as he spoke paleness followed the angry flush on the +athlete's forehead. He needed no omen to tell him something fearful was +about to ensue. + +"The seal is yours?" + +"The very same, two dancing maenads and over them a winged Eros. But how +came this letter here? I did not--" + +"As you love life or death, as you preserve any regard for our friendship, +I adjure you,--not to brave it longer, but to confess--" + +"Confess what? My head is reeling." + +"The treason in which you have dipped your hands, your dealings with the +Persian spy, your secret interviews, and last of all this letter,--I fear a +gross betrayal of all trust,--to some agent of Xerxes. I shudder when I +think of what may be its contents." + +"And--this--from--you! Oh,--Democrates,--" + +The accused man's hands snatched at the air. He sank upon a chest. + +"He does not deny it," threw out the orator, but Glaucon's voice rang +shrilly:-- + +"Ever! Ever will I deny! Though the Twelve Gods all cried out 'guilty!' +The charge is monstrous." + +"It is time, Democrates," said Themistocles, who had preserved a grim +silence, "that you showed us clearly whither your path is leading. This is +a fearful accusation you launch against your best-loved friend." + +"Themistocles is right," assented the orator, moving away from the +luckless Seuthes as from a pawn no longer important in the game of life +and death. "The whole of the wretched story I fear I must tell on the Bema +to all Athens. I must be brief, but believe me, I can make good all I say. +Since my return from the Isthmia, I have been observed to be sad. +Rightly--for knowing Glaucon as I did, I grew suspicious, and I loved him. +You have thought me not diligent in hunting down the Persian spy. You were +wrong. But how could I ruin my friend without full proof? I made use of +Agis,--no genteel confederate, to be sure, but honest, patriotic, +indefatigable. I soon had my eyes on the suspected Babylonish +carpet-seller. I observed Glaucon's movements closely, they gave just +ground for suspicion. The Babylonian, I came to feel, was none other than +an agent of Xerxes himself. I discovered that Glaucon had been making this +emissary nocturnal visits." + +"A lie!" groaned the accused, in agony. + +"I would to Athena I believed you," was the unflinching answer; "I have +direct evidence from eye-witnesses that you went to him. In a moment I can +produce it. Yet still I hesitated. Who would blast a friend without +damning proof? Then yesterday with your own lips you told me you sent a +messenger to disloyal Argos. I suspected two messages, not one, were +entrusted to Seuthes, and that you proclaimed the more innocent matter +thus boldly simply to blind my eyes. Before Seuthes started forth this +morning Agis informed me he had met him in a wine-shop--" + +"True," whimpered the unhappy prisoner. + +"And this fellow as much as admitted he carried a second and secret +message--" + +"Liar!" roared Seuthes. + +"Men hint strange things in wine-shops," observed Democrates, +sarcastically. "Enough that a second papyrus with Glaucon's seal has been +found hidden upon you." + +"Open it then, and know the worst," interjected Themistocles, his face +like a thunder-cloud; but Democrates forbade him. + +"A moment. Let me complete my story. This afternoon I received warning +that the Babylonish carpet-vender had taken sudden flight, presumably +toward Thebes. I have sent mounted constables after him. I trust they can +seize him at the pass of Phyle. In the meantime, I may assure you I have +irrefutable evidence--needless to present here--that the man was a Persian +agent, and to more purpose hear this affidavit, sworn to by very worthy +patriots. + +"Polus, son of Phodrus of the Commune of Diomea, and Lampaxo his sister +take oath by Zeus, Dike, and Athena, thus: We swear we saw and recognized +Glaucon, son of Conon, twice visiting by night in the past month of +Scirophorion a certain Babylonish carpet-seller, name unknown, who had +lodgings above Demas's shield factory in Alopece." + +"Details lack," spoke Themistocles, keenly. + +"To be supplied in full measure at the trial," rejoined the orator. "And +now to the second letter itself." + +"Ay, the letter, whatever the foul Cyclops that wrought it!" groaned +Glaucon through his teeth. + +Themistocles took the document from Hermippus's trembling hands. His own +trembled whilst he broke the seal. + +"The handwriting of Glaucon. There is no doubt," was his despairing +comment. His frown darkened. Then he attempted to read. + +"Glaucon of Athens to Cleophas of Argos wishes health:-- + +"Cleophas leads the Medizers of Argos, the greatest friend of Xerxes in +Greece. O Zeus, what is this next-- + +"Our dear friend, whom I dare not name, to-day departs for Thebes, and in +a month will be safe in Sardis. His visit to Athens has been most +fruitful. Since you at present have better opportunity than we for +forwarding packets to Susa, do not fail to despatch this at once. A happy +chance led Themistocles to explain to me his secret memorandum for the +arraying of the Greek fleet. You can apprize its worth, for the only +others to whom it is entrusted are Democrates and later Leonidas--" + +Themistocles flung the papyrus down. His voice was broken. Tears stood in +his eyes. + +"O Glaucon, Glaucon,--whom I have trusted? Was ever trust so betrayed! May +Apollo smite me blind, if so I could forget what I read here! It is all +written--the secret ordering of the fleet--" + +For a terrible moment there was silence in the little room, a silence +broken by a wild, shrill cry,--Hermione's, as she cast her arms about her +husband. + +"A lie! A snare! A wicked plot! Some jealous god has devised this guile, +seeing we were too happy!" + +She shook with sobs, and Glaucon, roused to manhood by her grief, uprose +and faced the stern face of Democrates, the blenching faces of the rest. + +"I am the victim of a conspiracy of all the fiends in Tartarus,"--he strove +hard to speak steadily; "I did not write that second letter. It is a +forgery." + +"But who, then," groaned Themistocles, hopelessly, "_can_ claim this +handiwork? Democrates or I?--for no other has seen the memorandum,--that I +swear. It has not yet gone to Leonidas. It has been guarded as the apple +of my eye. We three alone knew thereof. And it is in this narrow room the +betrayer of Hellas must stand." + +"I cannot explain." Glaucon staggered back to his seat. His wife's head +sank upon his lap. The two sat in misery. + +"Confess, by the remnants of our friendship I implore, confess," ordered +Democrates, "and then Themistocles and I will strive to lighten if +possible your inevitable doom." + +The accused man sat dumb, but Hermione struck back as some wild creature +driven to bay. She lifted her head. + +"Has Glaucon here no friend but me, his wife?" She sent beseeching eyes +about the room. "Do you all cry 'guilty, guilty'? Then is your friendship +false, for when is friendship proved, save in the hour of need?" + +The appeal brought an answer from her father, who had been standing +silent; and in infinite distress kindly, cautious, charitable Hermippus +began:-- + +"Dear Glaucon, Hermione is wrong; we were never more your friends. We are +willing to believe the best and not the worst. Therefore tell all frankly. +You have been a victim of great temptation. The Isthmian victory has +turned your head. The Persian was subtle, plausible. He promised I know +not what. You did not realize all you were doing. You had confederates +here in Athens who are more guilty. We can make allowances. Tell only the +truth, and the purse and influence of Hermippus of Eleusis shall never be +held back to save his son-in-law." + +"Nor mine, nor mine," cried Themistocles, snatching at every straw; "only +confess, the temptation was great, others were more guilty, everything +then may be done--" + +Glaucon drew himself together and looked up almost proudly. Slowly he was +recovering strength and wit. + +"I have nothing to confess," he spoke, "nothing. I know nothing of this +Persian spy. Can I swear the god's own oath--by Earth, by Sky, by the +Styx--" + +Themistocles shook his head wearily. + +"How can we say you are innocent? You never visited the Babylonian?" + +"Never. Never!" + +"Polus and Lampaxo swear otherwise. The letter?" + +"A forgery." + +"Impossible. Is the forger Democrates or I?" + +"Some god has done this thing in malice, jealous of my great joy." + +"I fear Hermes no longer strides so frequently about Athens. The hand and +seal are yours,--and still you do not confess?" + +"If I must die," Glaucon was terribly pale, but his voice was steady, "it +is not as a perjurer!" + +Themistocles turned his back with a groan. + +"I can do nothing for you. This is the saddest hour in my life." He was +silent, but Democrates sprang to the athlete's side. + +"Have I not prayed each god to spare me this task?" he spoke. "Can I +forget our friendship? Do not brave it to the end. Pity at least your +friends, your wife--" + +He threw back his cloak, pointing to a sword. + +"_Ai_," cried the accused, shrinking. "What would you have me do?" + +"Save the public disgrace, the hooting jury, the hemlock, the corpse flung +into the Barathrum. Strike this into your breast and end the shame." + +No further. Glaucon smote him so that he reeled. The athlete's tone was +terrible. + +"Villain! You shall not tempt me." Then he turned to the rest, and stood +in his white agony, yet beautiful as ever, holding out his arms. + +"O friends, do you all believe the worst? Do you, Themistocles, turn +silently against me?" No answer. "And you, Hermippus?" No answer again. +"And you, Cimon, who praised me as the fairest friend in all the world?" +The son of Miltiades simply tore his hair. Then the athlete turned to +Democrates. + +"And you I deemed more than comrade, for we were boys at school together, +were flogged with the same rod, and drank from the same cup, had like +friends, foes, loves, hates; and have lived since as more than +brothers,--do you too turn utterly away?" + +"I would it were otherwise," came the sullen answer. Again Democrates +pointed to the sword, but Glaucon stood up proudly. + +"No. I am neither traitor, nor perjurer, nor coward. If I must perish, it +shall be as becomes an Alcmaeonid. If you have resolved to undo me, I know +your power over Athenian juries. I must die. But I shall die with +unspotted heart, calling the curse of the innocent upon the god or man who +plotted to destroy me." + +"We have enough of this direful comedy," declared Democrates, pale +himself. "Only one thing is left. Call in the Scythians with their gyves, +and hale the traitor to prison." + +He approached the door; the others stood as icy statues, but not Hermione. +She had her back against the door before the orator could open. + +"Hold," she commanded, "for you are doing murder!" + +Democrates halted at the menacing light in her eyes. All the fear had gone +out of them. Athena Promachos, "Mistress of Battles," must have stood in +that awful beauty when aroused. Did the goddess teach her in that dread +moment of her power over the will of the orator? Glaucon was still +standing motionless, helpless, his last appeal having ended in mute +resignation to inevitable fate. She motioned to him desperately. + +"Glaucon! Glaucon!" she adjured, "do not throw your life away. They shall +not murder you. Up! Rouse yourself! There is yet time. Fly, or all is +lost." + +"Fly!" spoke the athlete, almost vacantly. "No, I will brave them to the +end." + +"For my sake, fly," she ordered, and conjured by that potent talisman, +Glaucon moved toward her. + +"How? Whither?" + +"To the ends of the earth, Scythia, Atlantis, India, and remain till all +Athens knows you are innocent." + +As men move who know not what they do, he approached the door. Held by the +magic of her eyes the others stood rigid. They saw Hermione raise the +latch. Her husband's face met hers in one kiss. The door opened, closed. +Glaucon was gone, and as the latch clicked Democrates shook off the charm +and leaped forward. + +"After the traitor! Not too late!--" + +For an instant he wrestled with Hermione hand to hand, but she was strong +through fear and love. He could not master her. Then a heavy grasp fell on +his shoulder--Cimon's. + +"You are beside yourself, Democrates. My memory is longer than yours. To +me Glaucon is still a friend. I'll not see him dragged to death before my +eyes. When we follow even a fox or a wolf, we give fair start and fair +play. You shall not pursue him yet." + +"Blessing on you!" cried the wife, falling on her knees and seizing +Cimon's cloak. "Oh, make Themistocles and my father merciful!" + +Hermippus--tender-hearted man--was in tears. Themistocles was pacing the +little chamber, his hand tugging his beard, clearly in grievous doubt. + +"The Scythians! The constables!" Democrates clamoured frantically; "every +instant gives the traitor better start." + +But Cimon held him fast, and Themistocles was not to be interrupted. Only +after a long time he spoke, and then with authority which brooked no +contradiction. + +"There is no hole in the net of Democrates's evidence that Glaucon is +guilty of foul disloyalty, disloyalty worthy of shameful death. Were he +any other there would be only one way with him and that a short one. But +Glaucon I know, if I know any man. The charges even if proved are nigh +incredible. For of all the thousands in Hellas his soul seemed the purest, +noblest, most ingenuous. Therefore I will not hasten on his death. I will +give the gods a chance to save him. Let Democrates arraign me for +'misprision of treason' if he will, and of failing in duty to Athens. +There shall be no pursuit of Glaucon until morning. Then let the Eleven(7) +issue their hue and cry. If they take him, let the law deal with him. Till +then give respite." + +Democrates attempted remonstrance. Themistocles bade him be silent +sharply, and the other bowed his head in cowed acquiescence. Hermione +staggered from the door, her father unbarred, and the whole wretched +company went forth. In the passage hung a burnished steel mirror; Hermione +gave a cry as she passed it. The light borne by Hermippus showed her in +her festival dress, the rippling white drapery, the crown of white +violets. + +"My father!" she cried, falling into his arms, "is it still the day of the +Panathenaea, when I marched in the great procession, when all Athens called +me happy? It was a thousand years ago! I can never be glad again--" + +He lifted her tenderly as she fainted. Old Cleopis, the Spartan nurse who +had kissed her almost before her mother, ran to her. They carried her to +bed, and Athena in mercy hid her from consciousness that night and all the +following day. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII + + + THE DISLOYALTY OF PHORMIO + + +On the evening of the Panathenaea, Bias, servant of Democrates, had supped +with Phormio,--for in democratic Athens a humble citizen would not disdain +to entertain even a slave. The Thracian had a merry wit and a +story-teller's gift that more than paid for the supper of barley-porridge +and salt mackerel, and after the viands had disappeared was ready even to +tell tales against his master. + +"I've turned my brain inside out, and shaken it like a meal sack. No +wisdom comes. The _kyrios_ has something on his mind. He prays to Hermes +Dolios as often as if he were a cut-purse. Then yesterday he sent me for +Agis--" + +"Agis?" Phormio pricked up his ears. "The gambling-house keeper? What does +Democrates with _him_?" + +"Answer yourself. My master has been to Agis's pretty place before to see +his cocks. However, this is different. To-day I met Theon." + +"Who's he?" + +"Agis's slave, the merriest scoundrel in Athens. Agis, he says, has been +prancing like an ass stuffed with barley. He gave Theon a letter from +Democrates to take to your Babylonian opposite; Theon must hunt up +Seuthes, a Corinthian, and worm out of him when and how he was leaving +Athens. Agis promised Theon a gold stater if all was right." + +Phormio whistled. "You mean the carpet-dealer here? By Athena's owls, +there is no light in his window to-night!" + +"None, indeed," crackled Lampaxo; "didn't I see that cursed Babylonian +with his servants gliding out just as Bias entered? Zeus knows whither! I +hope ere dawn Democrates has them by the heels." + +"Democrates does something to-night," asserted Bias, extending his cup for +wine. "At noon Agis flew up to him, chattered something in his ear, +whereupon Democrates bade me be off and not approach him till to-morrow, +otherwise a cane gets broken on my shoulders." + +"It's not painful to have a holiday," laughed Phormio. + +"It's most painful to be curious yet unsatisfied." + +"But why did not you take the letter to the Babylonian?" observed Phormio, +shrewdly. + +"I'm perplexed, indeed. Only one thing is possible." + +"And that is--" + +"Theon is not known in this street. I am. Perhaps the _kyrios_ didn't care +to have it rumoured he had dealings with that Babylonian." + +"Silence, undutiful scoundrel," ordered Lampaxo, from her corner; "what +has so noble a patriot as Democrates to conceal? Ugh! Be off with you! +Phormio, don't dare to fill up the tipsy fox's beaker again. I want to +pull on my nightcap and go to bed." + +Bias did not take the hint. Phormio was considering whether it was best to +join combat with his redoubtable spouse, or save his courage for a more +important battle, when a slight noise from the street made all listen. + +"Pest light on those bands of young roisterers!" fumed Lampaxo. "They go +around all night, beating on doors and vexing honest folk. Why don't the +constables trot them all to jail?" + +"This isn't a drunken band, good wife," remarked Phormio, rising; "some +one is sitting on the stones by the Hermes, near the door, groaning as if +in pain." + +"A drunkard? Let him lie then," commanded Lampaxo; "let the coat-thieves +come and filch his chiton." + +"He's hardly drunken," observed her husband, peering through the lattice +in the door, "but sick rather. Don't detain me, _philotata_,"--Lampaxo's +skinny hand had tried to restrain. "I'll not let even a dog suffer." + +"You'll be ruined by too much charity," bewailed the woman, but Bias +followed the fishmonger into the night. The moon shone down the narrow +street, falling over the stranger who half lay, half squatted by the +Hermes. When the two approached him, he tried to stagger to his feet, then +reeled, and Phormio's strong arms seized him. The man resisted feebly, and +seemed never to hear the fishmonger's friendly questions. + +"I am innocent. Do not arrest me. Help me to the temple of Hephaestos, +where there's asylum for fugitives. Ah! Hermione, that I should bring you +this!" + +Bias leaped back as the moonlight glanced over the face of the stranger. + +"Master Glaucon, half naked and mad! _Ai!_ woe!" + +"Glaucon the Alcmaeonid," echoed Phormio, in amazement, and the other still +struggled to escape. + +"Do you not hear? I am innocent. I never visited the Persian spy. I never +betrayed the fleet. By what god can I swear it, that you may believe?" + +Phormio was a man to recover from surprise quickly, and act swiftly and to +the purpose. He made haste to lead his unfortunate visitor inside and lay +him on his one hard couch. Scarcely was this done, however, when Lampaxo +ran up to Glaucon in mingled rage and exultation. + +"Phormio doesn't know what Polus and I told Democrates, or what he told +us! So you thought to escape, you white-skinned traitor? But we've watched +you. We know how you went to the Babylonian. We know your guilt. And now +the good gods have stricken you mad and delivered you to justice." She +waved her bony fists in the prostrate man's face. "Run, Phormio! don't +stand gaping like a magpie. Run, I say--" + +"Whither? For a physician?" + +"To Areopagus, fool! There's where the constables have their camp. Bring +ten men with fetters. He's strong and desperate. Bias and I will wait and +guard him. If you stir, traitor,--" she was holding a heavy meat-knife at +the fugitive's throat,--"I'll slit your weasand like a chicken." + +But for once in his life Phormio defied his tyrant effectively. With one +hand he tore the weapon from her clutch, the other closed her screaming +mouth. + +"Are you mad yourself? Will you rouse the neighbourhood? I don't know what +you and Polus tattled about to Democrates. I don't greatly care. As for +going for constables to seize Glaucon the Fortunate--" + +"Fortunate!" echoed the miserable youth, rising on one elbow, "say it +never again. The gods have blasted me with one great blow. And you--you are +Phormio, husband and brother-in-law of those who have sworn against +me,--you are the slave of Democrates my destroyer,--and you, woman,--Zeus +soften you!--already clamour for my worthless life, as all Athens does +to-morrow!" + +Lampaxo suddenly subsided. Resistance from her spouse was so unexpected +she lost at once arguments and breath. Phormio continued to act promptly; +taking a treasured bottle from a cupboard he filled a mug and pressed it +to the newcomer's lips. The fiery liquor sent the colour back into +Glaucon's face. He raised himself higher--strength and mind in a measure +returned. Bias had whispered to Phormio rapidly. Perhaps he had guessed +more of his master's doings than he had dared to hint before. + +"Hark you, Master Glaucon," began Phormio, not unkindly. "You are with +friends, and never heed my wife. She's not so steely hearted as she +seems." + +"Seize the traitor," interjected Lampaxo, with a gasp. + +"Tell your story. I'm a plain and simple man, who won't believe a +gentleman with your fair looks, fame, and fortune has pawned them all in a +night. Bias has sense. First tell how you came to wander down this way." + +Glaucon sat upright, his hands pressing against his forehead. + +"How can I tell? I have run to and fro, seeing yet not seeing whither I +went. I know I passed the Acharnican gate, and the watch stared at me. +Doubtless I ran hither because here they said the Babylonian lived, and he +has been ever in my head. I shudder to go over the scene at Colonus. I +wish I were dead. Then I could forget it!" + +"Constables--fetters!" howled Lampaxo, as a direful interlude, to be +silenced by an angry gesture from her helpmeet. + +"Nevertheless, try to tell what you can," spoke Phormio, mildly, and +Glaucon, with what power he had, complied. Broken, faltering, scarce +coherent often, his story came at last. He sat silent while Phormio +clutched his own head. Then Glaucon darted around wild and hopeless eyes. + +"_Ai!_ you believe me guilty. I almost believe so myself. All my best +friends have cast me off. Democrates, my friend from youth, has wrought my +ruin. My wife I shall never see again. I am resolved--" He rose. A +desperate purpose made his feet steady. + +"What will you do?" demanded Phormio, perplexed. + +"One thing is left. I am sure to be arrested at dawn if not before. I will +go to the 'City-House,' the public prison, and give myself up. The +ignominy will soon end. Then welcome the Styx, Hades, the never ending +night--better than this shame!" + +He started forth, but Phormio's hand restrained him. "Not so fast, lad! +Thank Olympus, I'm not Lampaxo. You're too young a turbot for Charon's +fish-net. Let me think a moment." + +The fishmonger stood scratching his thin hairs. Another howl from Lampaxo +decided him. + +"Are you a traitor, too? Away with the wretch to prison!" + +"I'm resolved," cried Phormio, striking his thigh. "Only an honest man +could get such hatred from my wife. If they've not tracked you yet, +they're not likely to find you before morning. My cousin Brasidas is +master of the _Solon_, and owes a good turn--" + +Quick strides took him to a chest. He dragged forth a sleeveless sailor's +cloak of hair-cloth. To fling this over Glaucon's rent chiton took an +instant, another instant to clap on the fugitive's head a brimless red +cap. + +"_Euge!_--you grow transformed. But that white face of yours is dangerous. +See!" he rubbed over the Alcmaeonid's face two handfuls of black ashes +snatched from the hearth and sprang back with a great laugh, "you're a +sailor unlading charcoal now. Zeus himself would believe it. All is +ready--" + +"For prison?" asked Glaucon, clearly understanding little. + +"For the sea, my lad. For Athens is no place for you to-morrow, and +Brasidas sails at dawn. Some more wine? It's a long, brisk walk." + +"To the havens? You trust me? You doubt the accusation which every friend +save Hermione believes? O pure Athena--and this is possible!" Again +Glaucon's head whirled. It took more of the fiery wine to stay him up. + +"Ay, boy," comforted Phormio, very gruff, "you shall walk again around +Athens with a bold, brave face, though not to-morrow, I fear. Polus trusts +his heart and not his head in voting 'guilty,' so I trust it voting +'innocent.' " + +"I warn you," Glaucon spoke rapidly, "I've no claim on your friendship. If +your part in this is discovered, you know our juries." + +"That I know," laughed Phormio, grimly, "for I know dear Polus. So now my +own cloak and we are off." + +But Lampaxo, who had watched everything with accumulating anger, now burst +loose. She bounded to the door. + +"Constables! Help! Athens is betrayed!" + +She bawled that much through the lattice before her husband and Bias +dragged her back. Fortunately the street was empty. + +"That I should see this! My own husband betraying the city! Aiding a +traitor!" Then she began whimpering through her nose. "_Mu! mu!_ leave the +villain to his fate. Think of me if not of your own safety. Woe! when was +a woman more misused?" + +But here her lament ended, for Phormio, with the firmness of a man +thoroughly determined, thrust a rag into her mouth and with Bias's help +bound her down upon the couch by means of a convenient fish-cord. + +"I am grieved to stop your singing, blessed dear," spoke the fishmonger, +indulging in a rare outburst of sarcasm against his formidable helpmeet, +"but we play a game with Fate to-night a little too even to allow unfair +chances. Bias will watch you until I return, and then I can discover, +_philotata_, whether your love for Athens is so great you must go to the +Archon to denounce your husband." + +The Thracian promised to do his part. His affection for Democrates was +clearly not the warmest. Lampaxo's farewell, as Phormio guided his +half-dazed companion into the street, was a futile struggle and a choking. +The ways were empty and silent. Glaucon allowed himself to be led by the +hand and did not speak. He hardly knew how or whither Phormio was taking +him. Their road lay along the southern side of the Acropolis, past the +tall columns of the unfinished Temple of Zeus, which reared to giant +height in the white moonlight. This, as well as the overshadowing Rock +itself, they left behind without incident. Phormio chose devious alleys, +and they met neither Scythian constables nor bands of roisterers. Only +once the two passed a house bright with lamps. Jovial guests celebrated a +late wedding feast. Clearly the two heard the marriage hymn of Sappho. + + "The bridegroom comes tall as Ares, + Ho, Hymenaeus! + Taller than a mighty man, + Ho, Hymenaeus!" + +Glaucon stopped like one struck with an arrow. + +"They sang that song the night I wedded Hermione. Oh, if I could drink the +Lethe water and forget!" + +"Come," commanded Phormio, pulling upon his arm. "The sun will shine again +to-morrow." + +Thus the twain went forward, Glaucon saying not a word. He hardly knew how +they passed the Itonian Gate and crossed the long stretch of open country +betwixt the city and its havens. No pursuit as yet--Glaucon was too +perplexed to reason why. At last he knew they entered Phaleron. He heard +the slapping waves, the creaking tackle, the shouting sailors. Torches +gleamed ruddily. A merchantman was loading her cargo of pottery crates and +oil jars,--to sail with the morning breeze. Swarthy shipmen ran up and down +the planks betwixt quay and ship, balancing their heavy jars on their +heads as women bear water-pots. From the tavern by the mooring came +harping and the clatter of cups, while two women--the worse for wine--ran +out to drag the newcomers in to their revel. Phormio slapped the slatterns +aside with his staff. In the same fearful waking dream Glaucon saw Phormio +demanding the shipmaster. He saw Brasidas--a short man with the face of a +hound and arms to hug like a bear--in converse with the fishmonger, saw the +master at first refusing, then gradually giving reluctant assent to some +demand. Next Phormio was half leading, half carrying the fugitive aboard +the ship, guiding him through a labyrinth of bales, jars, and cordage, and +pointing to a hatchway ladder, illumined by a swinging lantern. + +"Keep below till the ship sails; don't wipe the charcoal from your face +till clear of Attica. Officers will board the vessel before she puts off; +yet have no alarm, they'll only come to see she doesn't violate the law +against exporting grain." Phormio delivered his admonitions rapidly, at +the same time fumbling in his belt. "Here--here are ten drachmae, all I've +about me, but something for bread and figs till you make new friends,--in +which there'll be no trouble, I warrant. Have a brave heart. Remember that +Helios can shine lustily even if you are not in Athens, and pray the gods +to give a fair return." + +Glaucon felt the money pressed within his palm. He saw Phormio turning +away. He caught the fishmonger's hard hand and kissed it twice. + +"I can never reward you. Not though I live ten thousand years and have all +the gold of Gyges." + +"_Phui!_" answered Phormio, with a shrug; "don't detain me, it's time I +was home and was unlashing my loving wife." + +And with that he was gone. Glaucon descended the ladder. The cabin was +low, dark, unfurnished save with rude pallets of straw, but Glaucon heeded +none of these things. Deeper than the accusation by Democrates, than the +belief therein by Themistocles and the others, the friendship of the +fishmonger touched him. A man base-born, ignorant, uncivil, had believed +him, had risked his own life to save him, had given him money out of his +poverty, had spoken words of fair counsel and cheer. On the deck above the +sailors were tumbling the cargo, and singing at their toil, but Glaucon +never heard them. Flinging himself on a straw pallet, for the first time +came the comfort of hot tears. + + * * * * * * * + +Very early the _Solon's_ square mainsail caught the breeze from the warm +southwest. The hill of Munychia and the ports receded. The panorama of +Athens--plain, city, citadel, gray Hymettus, white Pentelicus--spread in a +vista of surpassing beauty--so at least to the eyes of the outlaw when he +clambered to the poop. As the ship ran down the low coast, land and sea +seemed clothed with a robe of rainbow-woven light. Far, near,--islands, +mountains, and deep were burning with saffron, violet, and rose, as the +Sun-God's car climbed higher above the burning path it marked across the +sea. Glaucon saw all in clear relief,--the Acropolis temple where he had +prayed, the Pnyx and Areopagus, the green band of the olive groves, even +the knoll of Colonus,--where he had left his all. Never had he loved Athens +more than now. Never had she seemed fairer to his eyes than now. He was a +Greek, and to a Greek death was only by one stage a greater ill than +exile. + +"O Athena Polias," he cried, stretching his hands to the fading beauty, +"goddess who determineth all aright,--bless thou this land, though it wakes +to call me traitor. Teach it to know I am innocent. Comfort Hermione, my +wife. And restore me to Athens, after doing deeds which wipe out all my +unearned shame!" + +The _Solon_ rounded the cape. The headland concealed the city. The +Saronian bay opened into the deeper blue of the AEgean and its sprinkling +of brown islands. Glaucon looked eastward and strove to forget Attica. + + * * * * * * * + +Two hours later all Athens seemed reading this placard in the Agora:-- + + + NOTICE + + + For the arrest of GLAUCON, SON OF CONON, charged with high + treason, I will pay one talent. + + + DEXILEUS, Chairman of the Eleven. + + +Other such placards were posted in Peiraeus, in Eleusis, in Marathon, in +every Attic village. Men could talk of nothing else. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV + + + MARDONIUS THE PERSIAN + + +Off Andros the northern gale smote them. The ship had driven helplessly. + +Off Tenos only the skill of Brasidas kept the _Solon_ clear of the rocky +shores. + +As they raced past holy Delos the frightened passengers had vowed twelve +oxen to Apollo if he saved them. + +Near Naxos, Brasidas, after vainly trying to make a friendly haven, bade +his sailors undergird the ship with heavy cables, for the timbers seemed +starting. Finally he suffered his craft to drive,--hoping at least to find +some islet with a sandy shore where he could beach her with safety. + +The _Solon_, however, was near her doom. She was built on the Samian +model, broad, flat, high in poop, low in prow,--excellent for cargo, but +none too seaworthy. The foresail blew in tatters. The closely brailed +mainsail shook the weakened mast. The sailors had dropped their quaint +oaths, and began to pray--sure proof of danger. The dozen passengers seemed +almost too panic-stricken to aid in flinging the cargo overboard. Several +were raving. + +"Hearken, Poseidon of Calauria," howled a Peiraeus merchant against the +screeching blasts, "save from this peril and I vow thee and thy temple two +mixing bowls of purest gold!" + +"A great vow," suggested a calmer comrade. "All your fortune can hardly +pay it." + +"Hush," spoke the other, in undertone, "don't let the god overhear me; let +me get safe to Mother Earth and Poseidon has not one obol. His power is +only over the sea." + +A creaking from the mainmast told that it might fall at any moment. +Passengers and crew redoubled their shouts to Poseidon and to Zeus of +AEgina. A fat passenger staggered from his cabin, a huge money-bag bound to +his belt,--as if gold were the safest spar to cling to in that boiling +deep. Others, less frantic, gave commissions one to another, in case one +perished and another escaped. + +"You alone have no messages, pray no prayers, show no fear!" spoke a +grave, elderly man to Glaucon, as both clutched the swaying bulwark. + +"And wherefore?" came the bitter answer; "what is left me to fear? I +desire no life hereafter. There can be no consciousness without sad +memory." + +"You are very young to speak thus." + +"But not too young to have suffered." + +A wave dashed one of the steering rudders out of the grip of the sailor +guiding it. The rush of water swept him overboard. The _Solon_ lurched. +The wind smote the straining mainsail, and the shivered mainmast tore from +its stays and socket. Above the bawling of wind and water sounded the +crash. The ship, with only a small sail upon the poop, blew about into the +trough of the sea. A mountain of green water thundered over the prow, +bearing away men and wreckage. The "governor," Brasidas's mate, flung away +the last steering tiller. + +"The _Solon_ is dying, men," he trumpeted through his hands. "To the boat! +Save who can!" + +The pinnace set in the waist was cleared away by frantic hands and axes. +Ominous rumblings from the hold told how the undergirding could not keep +back the water. The pinnace was dragged to the ship's lee and launched in +the comparative calm of the _Solon's_ broadside. Pitifully small was the +boat for five and twenty. The sailors, desperate and selfish, leaped in +first, and watched with jealous eyes the struggles of the passengers to +follow. The noisy merchant slipped in the leap, and they heard him scream +once as the wave swallowed him. Brasidas stood in the bow of the pinnace, +clutching a sword to cut the last rope. The boat filled to the gunwales. +The spray dashed into her. The sailors bailed with their caps. Another +passenger leaped across, whereat the men yelled and drew their dirks. + +"Three are left. Room for one more. The rest must swim!" + +Glaucon stood on the poop. Was life still such a precious thing to some +that they must clutch for it so desperately? He had even a painful +amusement in watching the others. Of himself he thought little save to +hope that under the boiling sea was rest and no return of memory. Then +Brasidas called him. + +"Quick! The others are Barbarians and you a Hellene. Your chance--leap!" + +He did not stir. The "others"--two strangers in Oriental dress--were +striving to enter the pinnace. The seamen thrust their dirks out to force +them back. + +"Full enough!" bawled the "governor." "That fellow on the poop is mad. Cut +the rope, or we are caught in the swirl." + +The elder Barbarian lifted his companion as if to fling him into the boat, +but Brasidas's sword cut the one cable. The wave flung the _Solon_ and the +pinnace asunder. With stolid resignation the Orientals retreated to the +poop. The people in the pinnace rowed desperately to keep her out of the +deadly trough of the billows, but Glaucon stood erect on the drifting +wreck and his voice rang through the tumult of the sea. + +"Tell them in Athens, and tell Hermione my wife, that Glaucon the +Alcmaeonid went down into the deep declaring his innocence and denouncing +the vengeance of Athena on whosoever foully destroyed him!--" + +Brasidas waved his sword in last farewell. Glaucon turned back to the +wreck. The _Solon_ had settled lower. Every wave washed across the waist. +Nothing seemed to meet his gaze save the leaden sky, the leaden green +water, the foam of the bounding storm-crests. He told himself the gods +were good. Drowning was more merciful death than hemlock. Pelagos, the +untainted sea, was a softer grave than the Barathrum. The memory of the +fearful hour at Colonus, the vision of the face of Hermione, of all things +else that he would fain forget--all these would pass. For what came after +he cared nothing. + +So for some moments he stood, clinging upon the poop, awaiting the end. +But the end came slowly. The _Solon_ was a stoutly timbered ship. Much of +her lading had been cast overboard, but more remained and gave buoyancy to +the wreckage. And as the Athenian awaited, almost impatiently, the final +disaster, something called his eye away from the heaving sky-line. Human +life was still about him. Wedged in a refuge, betwixt two capstans, the +Orientals were sitting, awaiting doom like himself. But wonder of +wonders,--he had not relaxed his hold on life too much to marvel,--the +younger Barbarian was beyond all doubt a woman. She sat in her companion's +lap, lifting her white face to his, and Glaucon knew she was of wondrous +beauty. They were talking together in some Eastern speech. Their arms were +closely twined. It was plain they were passing the last love messages +before entering the great mystery together. Of Glaucon they took no heed. +And he at first was almost angered that strangers should intrude upon this +last hour of life. But as he looked, as he saw the beauty of the woman, +the sheen of her golden hair, the interchange of love by touch and +word,--there came across his own spirit a most unlooked-for change. +Suddenly the white-capped billows seemed pitiless and chill. The warm joy +of life returned. Again memory surged back, but without its former pang. +He saw again the vision of Athens, of Colonus, of Eleusis-by-the-Sea. He +saw Hermione running through the throng to meet him the day he returned +from the Isthmia. He heard the sweet wind singing over the old olives +beside the cool Cephissus. Must these all pass forever? forever? Were +life, friends, love, the light of the sun, eternally lost, and nothing +left save the endless sleep in the unsunned caves of Oceanus? With one +surge the desire to live, to bear hard things, to conquer them, returned. +He dashed the water from his eyes. What he did next was more by instinct +than by reason. He staggered across the reeling deck, approached the +Barbarians, and seized the man by the arm. + +"Would you live and not die? Up, then,--there is still a chance." + +The man gazed up blankly. + +"We are in Mazda's hands," he answered in foreign accent. "It is +manifestly his will that we should pass now the Chinvat bridge. We are +helpless. Where is the pinnace?" + +Glaucon dragged him roughly to his feet. + +"I do not know your gods. Do not speak of their will to destroy us till +the destruction falls. Do you love this woman?" + +"Save her, let me twice perish." + +"Rouse yourself, then. One hope is left!" + +"What hope?" + +"A raft. We can cast a spar overboard. It will float us. You look +strong,--aid me." + +The man rose and, thoroughly aroused, seconded the Athenian intelligently +and promptly. The lurches of the merchantman told how close she was to her +end. One of the seamen's axes lay on the poop. Glaucon seized it. The +foremast was gone and the mainmast, but the small boat-mast still stood, +though its sail had blown to a thousand flapping streamers. Glaucon laid +his axe at the foot of the spar. Two fierce strokes weakened so that the +next lurch sent it crashing overboard. It swung in the maelstrom by its +stays and the halyards of the sail. Tossing to and fro like a bubble, it +was a fearful hope, but a louder rumbling from the hold warned how other +hope had fled. The Barbarian recoiled as he looked on it. + +"It can never float through this storm," Glaucon heard him crying between +the blasts, but the Athenian beckoned him onward. + +"Leap!" commanded Glaucon; "spring as the mast rises on the next wave." + +"I cannot forsake her," called back the man, pointing to the woman, who +lay with flying hair between the capstans, helpless and piteous now that +her lover was no longer near. + +"I will provide for her. Leap!" + +Glaucon lifted the woman in his arms. He took a manner of pride in showing +the Barbarian his skill. The man looked at him once, saw he could be +trusted, and took the leap. He landed in the water, but caught the +sail-cloth drifting from the mast, climbed beside it, and sat astride. The +Athenian sprang at the next favoring wave. His burden made the task hard, +but his stadium training never stood in better stead. The cold water +closed around him. The wave dragged down in its black abyss, but he struck +boldly upward, was beside the friendly spar, and the Barbarian aided him +to mount beside him, then cut the lashings to the _Solon_ with the dagger +that still dangled at his belt. The billows swept them away just as the +wreck reared wildly, and bow foremost plunged into the deep. They bound +the woman--she was hardly conscious now--into the little shelter formed by +the junction of the broken sail-yard and the mast. The two men sat beside +her, shielding her with their bodies from the beat of the spray. Speech +was all but impossible. They were fain to close their eyes and pray to be +delivered from the unceasing screaming of the wind, the howling of the +waters. And so for hours.... + +Glaucon never knew how long they thus drifted. The _Solon_ had been +smitten very early in the morning. She had foundered perhaps at noon. It +may have been shortly before sunset--though Helios never pierced the clouds +that storm-racked day--when Glaucon knew that the Barbarian was speaking to +him. + +"Look!" The wind had lulled a little; the man could make himself heard. +"What is it?" + +Through the masses of gray spray and driving mist Glaucon gazed when the +next long wave tossed them. A glimpse,--but the joys of Olympus seemed +given with that sight; wind-swept, wave-beaten, rock-bound, that half-seen +ridge of brown was land,--and land meant life, the life he had longed to +fling away in the morning, the life he longed to keep that night. He +shouted the discovery to his companion, who bowed his head, manifestly in +prayer. + +The wind bore them rapidly. Glaucon, who knew the isles of the AEgean as +became a Hellene, was certain they drove on Astypalaea, an isle subject to +Persia, though one of the outermost Cyclades. The woman was in no state to +realize their crisis. Only a hand laid on her bosom told that her heart +still fluttered. She could not endure the surge and the suffocating spray +much longer. The two men sat in silence, but their eyes went out hungrily +toward the stretch of brown as it lifted above the wave crests. The last +moments of the desperate voyage crept by like the pangs of Tantalus. +Slowly they saw unfolding the fog-clothed mountains, a forest, scattered +bits of white they knew were stuccoed houses; but while their eyes brought +joy, their ears brought sadness. The booming of the surf upon an outlying +ledge grew ever clearer. Almost ere they knew it the drifting mast was +stayed with a shock. They saw two rocks swathed in dripping weed that +crusted with knife-like barnacles, thrust their black heads out of the +boiling water. And beyond--fifty paces away--the breakers raced up the sandy +shore where waited refuge. + +The spar wedged fast in the rocks. The waves beat over it pitilessly. He +who stayed by it long had better have sunk with the _Solon_,--his would +have been an easier death. Glaucon laid his mouth to the man's ear. + +"Swim through the surf. I will bear the woman safely." + +"Save her, and be you blessed forever. I die happy. I cannot swim." + +The moment was too terrible for Glaucon to feel amazed at this confession. +To a Hellene swimming was second nature. He thought and spoke quickly. + +"Climb on the higher rock. The wave does not cover it entirely. Dig your +toes in the crevices. Cling to the seaweed. I will return for you." + +He never heard what the other cried back to him. He tore the woman clear +of her lashings, threw his left arm about her, and fought his way through +the surf. He could swim like a Delian, the best swimmers in Hellas; but +the task was mighty even for the athlete. Twice the deadly undertow almost +dragged him downward. Then the soft sand was oozing round his feet. He +knew a knot of fisher folk were running to the beach, a dozen hands took +his fainting burden from him. One instant he stood with the water rushing +about his ankles, gasped and drew long breaths, then turned his face +toward the sea. + +"Are you crazed?" he heard voices clamouring--they seemed a great way +off,--"a miracle that you lived through the surf once! Leave the other to +fate. Phorcys has doomed him already." + +But Glaucon was past acting by reason now. His head seemed a ball of fire. +Only his hands and feet responded mechanically to the dim impulse of his +bewildered brain. Once more the battling through the surf, this time +against it and threefold harder. Only the man whose strength had borne the +giant Spartan down could have breasted the billows that came leaping to +destroy him. He felt his powers were strained to the last notch. A little +more and he knew he might roll helpless, but even so he struggled onward. +Once again the two black rocks were springing out of the swollen water. He +saw the Barbarian clinging desperately to the higher. Why was he risking +his life for a man who was not a Hellene, who might be even a servant of +the dreaded Xerxes? A strange moment for such questionings, and no time to +answer! He clung to the seaweed beside the Barbarian for an instant, then +through the gale cried to the other to place his hands upon his shoulders. +The Oriental complied intelligently. For a third time Glaucon struggled +across the raging flood. The passage seemed endless, and every receding +breaker dragging down to the graves of Oceanus. The Athenian knew his +power was failing, and doled it out as a miser, counting his strokes, +taking deep gulps of air between each wave. Then, even while consciousness +and strength seemed passing together, again beneath his feet were the +shifting sands, again the voices encouraging, the hands outstretched, +strange forms running down into the surf, strange faces all around him. +They were bearing him and the Barbarian high upon the beach. They laid him +on the hard, wet sand--never a bed more welcome. He was naked. His feet and +hands bled from the tearing of stones and barnacles. His head was in fever +glow. Dimly he knew the Barbarian was approaching him. + +"Hellene, you have saved us. What is your name?" + +The other barely raised his head. "In Athens, Glaucon the Alcmaeonid, but +now I am without name, without country." + +The Oriental answered by kneeling on the sands and touching his head upon +them close to Glaucon's feet. + +"Henceforth, O Deliverer, you shall be neither nameless nor outcast. For +you have saved me and her I love more than self. You have saved +Artazostra, sister of Xerxes, and Mardonius, son of Gobryas, who is not +the least of the Princes of Persia and Eran." + +"Mardonius--arch foe of Hellas!" Glaucon spoke the words in horror. Then +reaction from all he had undergone robbed him of sense. They carried him +to the fisher-village. That night he burned with fever and raved wildly. +It was many days before he knew anything again. + + * * * * * * * + +Six days later a Byzantine corn-ship brought from Amorgos to Peiraeus two +survivors of the _Solon_,--the only ones to escape the swamping of the +pinnace. Their story cleared up the mystery of the fate of "Glaucon the +Traitor." "The gods," said every Agora wiseacre, "had rewarded the villain +with their own hands." The Babylonish carpet-seller and Hiram had +vanished, despite all search, but everybody praised Democrates for saving +the state from a fearful peril. As for Hermione, her father took her to +Eleusis that she might be free from the hoots of the people. Themistocles +went about his business very sorrowful. Cimon lost half his gayety. +Democrates, too, appeared terribly worn. "How he loved his friend!" said +every admirer. Beyond doubt for long Democrates was exceeding thoughtful. +Perhaps a reason for this was that about a month after the going of +Glaucon he learned from Sicinnus that Prince Mardonius was at length in +Sardis,--and possibly Democrates knew on what vessel the carpet-seller had +taken flight. + + + + + + BOOK II + + + THE COMING OF THE PERSIAN + + + + + CHAPTER XV + + + THE LOTUS-EATING AT SARDIS + + +When Glaucon awoke to consciousness, it was with a sense of absolute +weakness, at the same moment with a sense of absolute rest. He knew that +he was lying on pillows "softer than sleep," that the air he breathed was +laden with perfume, that the golden light which came through his +half-closed eyelids was deliciously tempered, that his ears caught a +musical murmur, as of a plashing fountain. So he lay for long, too +impotent, too contented to ask where he lay, or whence he had departed. +Athens, Hermione, all the thousand and one things of his old life, flitted +through his brain, but only as vague, far shapes. He was too weak even to +long for them. Still the fountain plashed on, and mingling with the +tinkling he thought he heard low flutes breathing. Perhaps it was only a +phantasy of his flagging brain. Then his eyes opened wider. He lifted his +hand. It was a task even to do that little thing,--he was so weak. He +looked at the hand! Surely his own, yet how white it was, how thin; the +bones were there, the blue veins, but all the strength gone out of them. +Was this the hand that had flung great Lycon down? It would be mere sport +for a child to master him now. He touched his face. It was covered with a +thick beard, as of a long month's growth. The discovery startled him. He +strove to rise on one elbow. Too weak! He sank back upon the cushions and +let his eyes rove inquiringly. Never had he seen tapestries the like of +those that canopied his bed. Scarlet and purple and embroidered in gold +thread with elaborate hunting scenes,--the dogs, the chariots, the slaying +of the deer, the bearing home of the game. He knew the choicest looms of +Sidon must have wrought them. And the linen, so cool, so grateful, +underneath his head--was it not the almost priceless fabric of Borsippa? He +stirred a little, his eyes rested on the floor. It was covered with a rug +worth an Athenian patrician's ransom,--a lustrous, variegated sheen, +showing a new tint at each change of the light. So much he saw from the +bed, and curiosity was wakened. Again he put forth his hand, and touched +the hanging curtains. The movement set a score of little silver bells that +dangled over the canopy to jingling. As at a signal the flutes grew +louder, mingling with them was the clearer note of lyres. Now the strains +swelled sweetly, now faded away into dreamy sighing, as if bidding the +listener to sink again into the arms of sleep. Another vain effort to rise +on his elbow. Again he was helpless. Giving way to the charm of the music, +he closed his eyes. + +"Either I am awaking in Elysium, or the gods send to me pleasant dreams +before I die." + +He was feebly wondering which was the alternative when a new sound roused +him, the sweep and rustle of the dresses of two women as they approached +the bed. He gazed forth listlessly, when lo! above his couch stood two +strangers,--strangers, but either as fair as Aphrodite arising from the +sea. Both were tall, and full of queenly grace, both were dressed in gauzy +white, but the hair of the one was of such gold that Glaucon hardly saw +the circlet which pressed over it. Her eyes were blue, the lustre of her +face was like a white rose. The other's hair shone like the wing of a +raven. A wreath of red poppies covered it, but over the softly tinted +forehead there peered forth a golden snake with emerald eyes--the Egyptian +uraeus, the crown of a princess from the Nile. Her eyes were as black as +the other's were blue, her lips as red as the dye of Tyre, her hands--But +before Glaucon looked and wondered more, the first, she of the golden +head, laid her hand upon his face,--a warm, comforting hand that seemed to +speed back strength and gladness with the touch. Then she spoke. Her Greek +was very broken, yet he understood her. + +"Are you quite awakened, dear Glaucon?" + +He looked up marvelling, not knowing how to answer; but the golden goddess +seemed to expect none from him. + +"It is now a month since we brought you from Astypalaea. You have wandered +close to the Portals of the Dead. We feared you were beloved by Mazda too +well, that you would never wake that we might bless you. Night and day +have my husband and I prayed to Mithra the Merciful and Hauratat the +Health-Giver in your behalf; each sunrise, at our command, the Magians +have poured out for you the Haoma, the sacred juice dear to the Beautiful +Immortals, and Amenhat, wisest of the physicians of Memphis, has stood by +your bedside without rest. Now at last our prayers and his skill have +conquered; you awake to life and gladness." + +Glaucon lay wondering, not knowing how to reply, and only understanding in +half, when the dark-haired goddess spoke, in purer Greek than her +companion. + +"And I, O Glaucon of Athens, would have you suffer me to kiss your feet. +For you have given my brother and my sister back to life." Then drawing +near she took his hand in hers, while the two smiling looked down on him. + +Then at last he found tongue to speak. "O gracious Queens, for such you +are, forgive my roving wits. You speak of great service done. But wise +Zeus knoweth we are strangers--" + +The golden goddess tossed her shining head and smiled,--still stroking with +her hand. + +"Dear Glaucon, do you remember the Eastern lad you saved from the Spartans +at the Isthmus? Behold him! Recall the bracelet of turquoise,--my first +gratitude. Then again you saved me with my husband. For I am the woman you +bore through the surf at the island. I am Artazostra, wife of Mardonius, +and this is Roxana, his half-sister, whose mother was a princess in +Egypt." + +Glaucon passed his fingers before his face, beckoning back the past. + +"It is all far away and strange: the flight, the storm, the wreck, the +tossing spar, the battling through the surges. My head is weak. I cannot +picture it all." + +"Do not try. Lie still. Grow strong and glad, and suffer us to teach you," +commanded Artazostra. + +"Where do I lie? We are not upon the rocky islet still?" + +The ladies laughed, not mockingly but so sweetly he wished that they would +never cease. + +"This is Sardis," spoke Roxana, bending over him; "you lie in the palace +of the satrap." + +"And Athens--" he said, wandering. + +"Is far away," said Artazostra, "with all its griefs and false friends and +foul remembrances. The friends about you here will never fail. Therefore +lie still and have peace." + +"You know my story," cried he, now truly in amaze. + +"Mardonius knows all that passes in Athens, in Sparta, in every city of +Hellas. Do not try to tell more. We weary you already. See--Amenhat comes +to bid us begone." + +The curtains parted again. A dark man in a pure white robe, his face and +head smooth-shaven, approached the bed. He held out a broad gold cup, the +rim whereof glinted with agate and sardonyx. He had no Greek, but Roxana +took the cup from him and held it to Glaucon's lips. + +"Drink," she commanded, and he was fain to obey. The Athenian felt the +heavily spiced liquor laying hold of him. His eyes closed, despite his +wish to gaze longer on the two beautiful women. He felt their hands +caressing his cheeks. The music grew ever softer. He thought he was +sinking into a kind of euthanasy, that his life was drifting out amid +delightful dreams. But not cold Thanatos, but health-bearing Hypnos was +the god who visited him now. When next he woke, it was with a clearer +vision, a sounder mind. + + * * * * * * * + +Sardis the Golden, once capital of the Lydian kings and now of the Persian +satraps, had recovered from the devastation by the Ionians in their +ill-starred revolt seventeen years preceding. The city spread in the +fertile Sardiene, one of the garden plains of Asia Minor. To the south the +cloud-crowned heights of Tmolus ever were visible. To the north flowed the +noble stream of Hebrus, whilst high above the wealthy town, the busy +agora, the giant temple of Lydian Cybele, rose the citadel of Meles, the +palace fortress of the kings and the satraps. A frowning castle it was +without, within not the golden-tiled palaces of Ecbatana and Susa boasted +greater magnificence and luxury than this one-time dwelling of Croesus. The +ceilings of the wide banqueting halls rose on pillars of emerald Egyptian +malachite. The walls were cased with onyx. Winged bulls that might have +graced Nineveh guarded the portals. The lions upbearing the throne in the +hall of audience were of gold. The mirrors in the "House of the Women" +were not steel but silver. The gorgeous carpets were sprinkled with rose +water. An army of dark Syrian eunuchs and yellow-faced Tartar girls ran at +the beck of the palace guests. Only the stealthy entrance of Sickness and +Death told the dwellers here they were not yet gods. + +Artaphernes, satrap of Lydia, had his divan, his viziers, and his +audiences,--a court worthy of a king,--but the real lord of Western Asia was +the prince who was nominally his guest. Mardonius had his own retinue and +wing of the palace. On him fell the enormous task of organizing the masses +of troops already pouring into Sardis, and he discharged his duty +unwearyingly. The completion of the bridges of boats across the +Hellespont, the assembling of the fleet, the collecting of provisions, +fell to his province. Daily a courier pricked into Sardis with despatches +from the Great King to his trusted general. Mardonius left the great +levees and public spectacles to Artaphernes, but his hand was everywhere. +His decisions were prompt. He was in constant communication with the +Medizing party in Hellas. He had no time for the long dicing and drinking +bouts the Persians loved, but he never failed to find each day an hour to +spend with Artazostra his wife, with Roxana his half-sister, and with +Glaucon his preserver. + +Slowly through the winter health had returned to the Athenian. For days he +had lain dreaming away the hours to the tune of the flutes and the +fountains. When the warm spring came, the eunuchs carried him in a +sedan-chair through the palace garden, whence he could look forth on the +plain, the city, the snow-clad hills, and think he was on Zeus's Olympian +throne, surveying all the earth. Then it was he learned the Persian +speech, and easily, for were not his teachers Artazostra and Roxana? He +found it no difficult tongue, simple and much akin to Greek, and unlike +most of the uncouth tongues the Oriental traders chattered in Sardis. The +two women were constantly with him. Few men were admitted to a Persian +harem, but Mardonius never grudged the Greek the company of these twain. + +"Noble Athenian," said the Prince, the first time he visited Glaucon's +bed, "you are my brother. My house is yours. My friends are yours. Command +us all." + + * * * * * * * + +Every day Glaucon was stronger. He tested himself with dumb-bells. Always +he could lift a heavier weight. When the summer was at hand, he could ride +out with Mardonius to the "Paradise," the satrap's hunting park, and be in +at the death of the deer. Yet he was no more the "Fortunate Youth" of +Athens. Only imperfectly he himself knew how complete was the severance +from his old life. The terrible hour at Colonus had made a mark on his +spirit which not all Zeus's power could take away. No doubt all the +one-time friends believed him dead. Had Hermione's confidence in him +remained true? Would she not say "guilty" at last with all the rest? +Mardonius might have answered, he had constant letters from Greece, but +the Prince was dumb when Glaucon strove to ask of things beyond the AEgean. + +Day by day the subtle influence of the Orient--the lotus-eating,--"tasting +the honey-sweet fruit which makes men choose to abide forever, forgetful +of the homeward way"--spread its unseen power over the Alcmaeonid. Athens, +the old pain, even the face of Hermione, would rise before him only dimly. +He fought against this enchantment. But it was easier to renew his vow to +return to Athens, after wiping out his shame, than to break these bands +daily tightening. + +He heard little Greek, now that he was learning Persian. Even he himself +was changed. His hair and beard grew long, after the Persian manner. He +wore the loose Median cloak, the tall felt cap of a Persian noble. The +elaborate genuflexions of the Asiatics no longer astonished him. He +learned to admire the valiant, magnanimous lords of the Persians. And +Xerxes, the distant king, the wielder of all this power, was he not truly +a god on earth, vicegerent of Lord Zeus himself? + +"Forget you are a Hellene. We will talk of the Nile, not of the +Cephissus," Artazostra said, whenever he spoke of home. Then she would +tell of Babylon and Persepolis, and Mardonius of forays beside the wide +Caspian, and Roxana of her girlhood, while Gobryas was satrap of Egypt, +spent beside the magic river, of the Pharaohs, the great pyramid, of Isis +and Osiris and the world beyond the dead. Before the Athenian was opened +the golden East, its glitter, its wonderment, its fascination. He even was +silent when his hosts talked boldly of the coming war, how soon the +Persian power would rule from the Pillars of Heracles to Ind. + +Yet once he stood at bay, showing that he was a Hellene still. They were +in the garden. Mardonius had come to them where under the pomegranate tree +the women spread their green tapestry which their nimble needles covered +with a battle scene in scarlet. The Prince told of the capture and +crucifixion of the chiefs of a futile revolt in Armenia. Then Artazostra +clapped her hands to cry. + +"Fools! Fools whom Angra-Mainyu the Evil smites blind that he may destroy +them!" + +Glaucon, sitting at her feet, looked up quickly. "Valiant fools, lady; +every man must strike for his own country." + +Artazostra shook her shining head. + +"Mazda gives victory to the king of Eran alone. Resisting Xerxes is not +rebellion against man, it is rebellion against Heaven." + +"Are you sure?" asked the Athenian, his eye lighting ominously. "Are yours +the greatest gods?" + +But Roxana in turn cast down the tapestry and opened her arms with a +charming gesture. + +"Be not angry, Glaucon, for will you not become one with us? I dare to +prophesy like a seer from old Chaldea. Assur of Nineveh, Marduk of +Babylon, Baal of Tyre, Ammon of Memphis--all have bent the knee to Mazda +the Glorious, to Mithra the Fiend-Smiting, and shall the weak _daevas_, the +puny gods of Greece, save their land, when greater than they bow down in +sore defeat?" + +Yet Glaucon still looked on her boldly. + +"You have your mighty gods, but we have ours. Pray to your Mazda and +Mithra, but we will still trust Zeus of the Thunders and Athena of the +Gray Eyes, the bulwarks of our fathers. And Fate must answer which can +help the best." + +The Persians shook their heads. It was time to return to the palace. All +that Glaucon had seen of the Barbarian's might, since awakening in Sardis, +told him Xerxes was indeed destined to go forth conquering and to conquer. +Then the vision of the Acropolis, the temples, the Guardian Goddess, +returned. He banished all disloyal thoughts for the instant. The Prince +walked with his wife, Glaucon with Roxana. He had always thought her +beautiful; she had never seemed so beautiful as now. Did he imagine +whither Mardonius perhaps was leading him? + + + + + CHAPTER XVI + + + THE COMING OF XERXES THE GOD-KING + + +At last the lotus-eating ended. Repeated messengers told how Xerxes was +quitting Babylon, was holding a muster in Cappadocia, and now was crossing +Asia Minor toward Sardis. Mardonius and his companions had returned to +that capital. Daily the soldiery poured into Sardis by tens of thousands. +Glaucon knew now it was not a vain boast that for ten years the East had +been arming against Hellas, that the whole power of the twenty satrapies +would be flung as one thunderbolt upon devoted Greece. + +In the plain about Sardis a second city was rising, of wicker booths and +gay pavilions. The host grew hourly. Now a band of ebony archers in +leopard skins entered from far Ethiopia, now Bactrian battle-axemen, now +yellow-faced Tartars from the northeast, now bright-turbaned Arabs upon +their swaying camels,--Syrians, Cilicians, black-bearded Assyrians and +Babylonians, thick-lipped Egyptians, came, and many a strange race more. + +But the core of the army were the serried files of Aryan horse and +foot,--blond-headed, blue-eyed men, Persians and Medes, veterans of twenty +victories. Their muscles were tempered steel. Their unwearying feet had +tramped many a long parasang. Some were light infantry with wicker shields +and powerful bows, but as many more horsemen in gold-scaled armour and +with desert steeds that flew like Pegasus. + +"The finest cavalry in the world!" Mardonius vaunted, and his guest durst +not answer nay. + +Satrap after satrap came. When at last a foaming Arab galloping to the +castle proclaimed, "Next morn the Lord of the World will enter Sardis," +Glaucon could scarce have looked for a greater, though he had expected +Cronian Zeus himself. + +Mardonius, as "bow-bearer to the king," a semi-regal office, rode forth a +stage to meet the sovran. The streets of Sardis were festooned with +flowers. Thousands of spearmen held back the crowds. The Athenian stood +beside Roxana and Artazostra at the upper window of a Lydian merchant +prince, and his eyes missed nothing. + +Never had the two women seemed lovelier than when their hearts ran out to +their approaching king. He felt now the power of personal sovranty, how +these children of the East awaited not Xerxes the Master, but Xerxes the +Omnipotent, God-Manifest, whose decrees were as the decrees of Heaven. And +their awe could not fail to awe the Athenian. + +At noon the multitude caught the first token of the king. Down the road, +through the gate, walked a man, bare-headed, bare-footed, +alone,--Artaphernes, despot of all Lydia, going to pay his abject homage. +Presently the eunuch priests of Cybele, perched above the gate, clashed +their cymbals and raised their hymn of welcome. To the boom of drums the +thousand chosen cavalry and as many picked footmen of the Life Guard +entered, tall, magnificent soldiers,--caps and spear butts shining with +gold. After these a gilded car drawn by the eight sacred horses, each +milk-white, and on the car an altar bearing the eternal fire of Mazda. +Then, each in his flashing chariot, moved the "Six Princes," the heads of +the great clans of the Achaemenians, then two hundred led desert horses, in +splendid trappings, and then--after a long interval, that the host might +cast no dust upon its lord, rode a single horseman on a jet-black steed, +Artabanus--the king's uncle and vizier. He beckoned to the people. + +"Have fear, Lydians, the giver of breath to all the world comes now +beneath your gates!" + +The lines of soldiers flung down their spears and dropped upon their +knees. The multitude imitated. A chariot came running behind four of the +sacred steeds of Nisaea,--their coats were like new snow, their manes +braided with gold thread, bridle, bits, pole, baseboard, shone with gems +and the royal metal. The wheel was like the sun. A girl-like youth guided +the crimson reins, a second held the tall green parasol. Its shadow did +not hide the commanding figure upon the car. Glaucon looked hard. No +mistaking--Xerxes was here, the being who could say to millions "Die!" and +they perished like worms; in verity "God-Manifest." + +For in looks Xerxes, son of Darius, was surely the Great King. A figure of +august height was set off nobly by the flowing purple caftan and the +purple cap which crowned the curling black hair. The riches of satrapies +were in the rubies and topazes on sword sheath and baldric. The head was +raised. The face was not regular, but of a proud, aquiline beauty. The +skin was olive, the eyes dark, a little pensive. If there were weak lines +about the mouth, the curling beard covered them. The king looked straight +on, unmoved by the kneeling thousands, but as he came abreast of the +balcony, chance made him look upward. Perhaps the sight of the beautiful +Greek caused Xerxes to smile winsomely. The smile of a god can intoxicate. +Caught away from himself, Glaucon the Alcmaeonid joined in the great salvo +of cheering. + +"Victory to Xerxes! Let the king of kings reign forever!" + +The chariot was gone almost instantly, a vast retinue--cooks, eunuchs, +grooms, hunters, and many closed litters bearing the royal +concubines--followed, but all these passed before Glaucon shook off the +spell the sight of royalty cast on him. + + * * * * * * * + +That night in the palace Xerxes gave a feast in honour of the new +campaign. The splendours of a royal banquet in the East need no retelling. +Silver lamps, carpets of Kerman rugs or of the petals of fresh roses, a +thousand lutes and dulcimers, precious Helbon wine flowing like water, +cups of Phoenician crystal, tables groaning with wild boars roasted whole, +dancing women none too modest,--these were but the incidentals of a +gorgeous confusion. To Glaucon, with the chaste loveliness of the +Panathenaea before his mind, the scene was one of vast wonderment but +scarcely of pleasure. The Persian did nothing by halves. In battle a hero, +at his cups he became a satyr. Many of the scenes before the guests +emptied the last of the tall silver tankards were indescribable. + + * * * * * * * + +On the high dais above the roaring hall sat Xerxes the king,--adored, +envied, pitiable. + +When Spitames, the seneschal, brought him the cup, the bearer bowed his +face, not daring to look on his dread lord's eyes. + +When Artabanus, the vizier, approached with a message, he first kissed the +carpet below the dais. + +When Hydarnes, commander of the Life Guard, drew near to receive the +watchword for the night, he held his mantle before his mouth, lest his +breath pollute the world monarch. + +Yet of all forms of seeming prosperity wherewith Fate can curse a man, the +worst was the curse of Xerxes. To be called "god" when one is finite and +mortal; to have no friends, but only a hundred million slaves; to be +denied the joys of honest wish and desire because there were none left +unsatisfied; to have one's hastiest word proclaimed as an edict of deity; +never to be suffered to confess a mistake, cost what the blunder might, +that the "king of kings" might seem lifted above all human error; in +short, to be the bondsman of one's own deification,--this was the hard +captivity of the lord of the twenty satrapies. + +For Xerxes the king was a man,--of average instincts, capacities, goodness, +wickedness. A god or a genius could have risen above his fearful +isolation. Xerxes was neither. The iron ceremonial of the Persian court +left him of genuine pleasures almost none. Something novel, a rare +sensation, an opportunity to vary the dreary monotony of splendour by an +astounding act of generosity or an act of frightful cruelty,--it mattered +little which,--was snatched at by the king with childlike eagerness. And +this night Xerxes was in an unwontedly gracious mood. At his elbow, as he +sat on the throne cased with lapis lazuli and onyx, waited the one man who +came nearest to being a friend and not a slave,--Mardonius, son of Gobryas, +the bow-bearer,--and therefore more entitled than any other prince of the +Persians to stand on terms of intimacy with his lord. + +While Spitames passed the wine, the king hearkened with condescending and +approving nod to the report of the Prince as to his mad adventure in +Hellas. Xerxes even reproved his brother-in-law mildly for hazarding his +own life and that of his wife among those stiff-necked tribesmen who were +so soon to taste the Aryan might. + +"It was in your service, Omnipotence," the Prince was rejoining blandly; +"what if not I alone, but a thousand others of the noblest of the Persians +and the Medes may perish, if only the glory of their king is advanced?" + +"Nobly said; you are a faithful slave, Mardonius. I will remember you when +I have burned Athens." + +He even reached forth and stroked the bow-bearer's hand, a condescension +which made the footstool-bearer, parasol-bearer, quiver-bearer, and a +dozen great lords more gnaw their lips with envy. Hydarnes, the commander +who had waited an auspicious moment, now thought it safe to kneel on the +lowest step of the throne. + +"Omnipotence, I am constrained to tell you that certain miserable Hellenes +have been seized in the camp to-night--spies sent to pry out your power. Do +you deign to have them impaled, crucified, or cast into the adders' cage?" + +The king smiled magnanimously. + +"They shall not die. Show them the host, and all my power. Then send them +home to their fellow-rebels to tell the madness of dreaming to withstand +my might." + +The smile of Xerxes had spread, like the ripple from a pebble splashing in +a pool, over the face of every nobleman in hearing. Now their praises came +as a chant. + +"O Ocean of Clemency and Wisdom! Happy Eran in thy sagacious yet merciful +king!" + +Xerxes, not heeding, turned to Mardonius. + +"Ah! yes,--you were telling how you corrupted one of the chief Athenians, +then had to flee. On the voyage you were shipwrecked?" + +"So I wrote to Babylon, to your Eternity." + +"And a certain Athenian fugitive saved your lives? And you brought him to +Sardis?" + +"I did so, Omnipotence." + +"Of course he is at the banquet." + +"The king speaks by the promptings of Mazda. I placed him with certain +friends and bade them see he did not lack good cheer." + +"Send,--I would talk with him." + +"Suffer me to warn your Majesty," ventured Mardonius, "he is an Athenian +and glories in being of a stubborn, Persian-hating stock. I fear he will +not perform due obeisance to the Great King." + +"I can endure his rudeness," spoke Xerxes, for once in excellent humour; +"let the 'supreme usher' bring him with full speed." + +The functionary thus commanded bowed himself to the ground and hastened on +his errand. + +But well that Mardonius had deprecated the wrath of the monarch. Glaucon +came with his head high, his manner almost arrogant. The mere fact that +his boldness might cost him his life made him less bending than ever. He +trod firmly upon the particular square of golden carpet at the foot of the +dais which none, saving the king, the vizier, and the "Six Princes," could +lawfully tread. He held his hands at his sides, firmly refusing to conceal +them in his cloak, as court etiquette demanded. As he stood on the steps +of the throne, he gave the glittering monarch the same familiar bow he +might have awarded a friend he met in the Agora. Mardonius was troubled. +The supreme usher was horrified. The master-of-punishments, ever near his +chief, gazed eagerly to see if Xerxes would not touch the audacious +Hellene's girdle--a sign for prompt decapitation. Only the good nature of +the king prevented a catastrophe, and Xerxes was moved by two motives, +pleasure at meeting a fellow-mortal who could look him in the eye without +servility or fear, delight at the beautiful features and figure of the +Athenian. For an instant monarch and fugitive looked face to face, then +Xerxes stretched out, not his hand, but the gold tip of his ivory baton. +Glaucon had wisdom enough to touch it,--a token that he was admitted to +audience with the king. + +"You are from Athens, beautiful Hellene," spoke Xerxes, still admiring the +stranger. "I will question you. Let Mardonius interpret." + +"I have learned Persian, great sir," interposed Glaucon, never waiting for +the bow-bearer. + +"You have done well," rejoined the smiling monarch; "yet better had you +learned our Aryan manners of courtliness. No matter--you will learn them +likewise in good time. Now tell me your name and parentage." + +"I am Glaucon, son of Conon, of the house of the Alcmaeonidae." + +"Great nobles, Omnipotence," interposed Mardonius, "so far as nobility can +be reckoned among the Greeks." + +"I have yet to learn their genealogies," remarked Xerxes, dryly; then he +turned back to Glaucon. "And do your parents yet live, and have you any +brethren?" The question was a natural one for an Oriental. Glaucon's +answer came with increased pride. + +"I am a child of my parent's old age. My mother is dead. My father is +feeble. I have no brethren. Two older brothers I had. One fell here at +Sardis, when we Athenians sacked the city. One fell victorious at +Marathon, while he burned a Persian ship. Therefore I am not ashamed of +their fates." + +"Your tongue is bold, Hellene," said the good-natured king; "you are but a +lame courtier. No matter. Tell me, nevertheless, why you churlishly refuse +to do me reverence. Do you set yourself above all these princes of the +Persians who bow before me?" + +"Not so, great sir. But I was born at Athens, not at Susa. We Hellenes +pray standing even to Zeus, stretching forth our hands and looking upward. +Can I honour the lord of all the satrapies above the highest god?" + +"A nimble tongue you have, Athenian, though an unbending neck." Xerxes sat +and stroked his beard, pleased at the frank reply. "Mardonius has told how +you saved his and my sister's lives, and that you are an outlaw from +Athens." + +"The last is all too true, great sir." + +"Which means you will not pray your gods too hard for my defeat? ha?" + +Glaucon blushed, then looked up boldly. + +"A Persian king, I know, loves truth-telling. I still love and pray for +Athens, even if unknown enemies conspired against me." + +"Humph! You can learn our other virtues later. Are you blind to my power? +If so, I pity more than I blame you." + +"The king is kind," returned Glaucon, putting by a part of his hauteur. "I +would not anger him. I only know he would rather have men say, 'Xerxes +conquered a proud nation, hard to subdue,' than, 'He conquered a feeble +race of whining slaves.' " + +"Excellent! In all save your vain confidence of victory, you seem wise +beyond your youth. You are handsome. You are noble--" + +"Very noble," interposed Mardonius. + +"And you saved the lives of Mardonius and Artazostra. Did you know their +nobility when you rescued them?" + +"Not so. I would not let them drown like sheep." + +"The better, then. You acted without low motive of reward. Yet let the day +never come when Xerxes is called 'ungrateful' for benefits done his +servants. You shall come to love me by beholding my magnanimity. I will +make you a Persian, despite your will. Have you seen battle?" + +"I was too young to bear a spear at Marathon," was the unflinching answer. + +"Learn then to wield it in another army. Where is the archsecretary?" + +That functionary was present instantly. Mardonius, taking the whispers of +the king, dictated an order which the scribe stamped on his tablet of wet +clay with a rapid stylus. + +"Now the chief proclaimer," was the king's order, which brought a tall man +in a bright scarlet caftan salaaming to the dais. + +He took the tablet from the secretary and gave a resounding blow upon the +brass gong dangling from his elbow. The clatter of wine cups ceased. The +drinkers were silent on pain of death. The herald sent his proclamation in +stentorian voice down the hall:-- + +"_In the name of Xerxes the Achaemenian, king of kings, king of Persia, +Media, Babylon, and Lydia; smiter of the Scythians, dominator of the +Indians, terror of the Hellenes; to all peoples of the world his +slaves,--hear ye!_ + +"Says Xerxes the king, whose word changes not. Forasmuch as Glaucon the +Athenian did save from death my servant and my sister, Mardonius and +Artazostra, I do enroll him among the 'Benefactors of the King,' a sharer +of my bounty forever. Let his name henceforth be not Glaucon, but +Prexaspes. Let my purple cap be touched upon his head. Let him be given +the robe of honour and the girdle of honour. Let the treasurer pay him a +talent of gold. Let my servants honour him. Let those who mock at him be +impaled. And this I proclaim as my decree." + +What followed Glaucon was too bewildered to recall clearly. He knew that +the archchamberlain lifted the great jewel-crusted hat from the king's +head and set it on his own for an instant, that they brought him a flowing +purple robe, and clasped about his waist a golden belt, every link set +with a stone of price. The hall arose _en masse_ to drink to the man whom +the sovran delighted to honour. + +"Hail! Thrice hail to the Lord Prexaspes! Justly rewarded by our gracious +king!" + +No man refused his plaudit, and Glaucon never knew how many envious +courtiers cheered with their lips and in their hearts muttered dark things +against "the manner in which his Majesty loved to play the god and promote +this unknown Hellene above the heads of so many faithful subjects." + +Glaucon had made shift to speak some words of deprecation and gratitude to +royalty; his bow was deeper when the supreme usher led him away from the +throne than when he approached it. As he made his way out of the +banqueting hall, a score of noblemen, captains of thousands, over-eunuchs, +and more trailed at his heels, salaaming, fawning, congratulating, +offering all manner of service. Not on the days following his victory at +the Isthmia had his head been in such a whirl. He hardly heard the +well-meant warning which Artabanus, the shrewd old vizier, gave as he +passed the door of the great hall. + +"Play the game well, my new Lord Prexaspes. The king can make you satrap +or he can crucify you. Play the game well, the stakes are high." + +Neither did he hear the conversation betwixt Xerxes and the bow-bearer +whilst he was being conducted away. + +"Have I done well to honour this man, Mardonius?" + +"Your Eternity was never more wise. Bear with his uncourtliness now, for +he is truthful, upright, and noble in soul--qualities rare in a Hellene. +Give me but time. I will make him a worthy Persian indeed." + +"Do not fail therein," ordered the monarch, "for the youth has such +beauty, both of body and mind, I am grieved he was born in Athens. Yet +there is one short way to wean him from his doomed and miserable country." + +"Will Omnipotence but name it?" + +"Search out for him a Persian wife, no, three or four wives--although I +have heard the custom of these witless Greeks is to be content with only +one. There is no surer way to turn his heart than that." + +"I thank your Eternity for your commandment. It shall not be forgotten." + +Mardonius bowed himself. Xerxes called for more wine. The feast lasted +late and ended in an orgy. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII + + + THE CHARMING BY ROXANA + + +Glaucon's longing for the old life ebbed and flowed. Sometimes the return +of memory maddened him. Who had done it?--had forged that damning letter +and then hid it with Seuthes? Themistocles? Impossible. Democrates?--"the +friend with the understanding heart no less than a brother dear," as Homer +said? More impossible. An unknown enemy, then, had stolen the fleet order +from Themistocles? But what man had hated Glaucon? One answer +remained,--unwittingly the athlete had offended some god, forgotten some +vow, or by sheer good fortune had awakened divine jealousy. Poseidon had +been implacable toward Odysseus, Athena toward Hector, Artemis toward +Niobe,--Glaucon could only pray that his present welcome amongst the +Persians might not draw down another outburst of Heaven's anger. + +More than all else was the keen longing for Hermione. He saw her in the +night. Vainly, amidst the storms of the gathering war, he had sought a +messenger to Athens. In this he dared ask no help from Mardonius. Then +almost from the blue a bolt fell that made him wish to tear Hermione from +his heart. + +A Carian slave, a trusted steward at the Athenian silver mines of Laurium, +had loved his liberty and escaped to Sardis. The Persians questioned him +eagerly, for he knew all the gossip of Athens. Glaucon met the runaway, +who did not know then who he was, so many Greek refugees were always +fluttering around the king's court. The Carian told of a new honour for +Democrates. + +"He is elected strategus for next year because of his proud patriotism. +There is talk, too, of a more private bit of good fortune." + +"What is it?" + +"That he has made successful suit to Hermippus of Eleusis for his +daughter,--the widow of Glaucon, the dead outlaw. They say the marriage +follows at the end of the year of mourning--Sir, you are not well!" + +"I was never better." But the other had turned ashen. He quitted the +Carian abruptly and shut himself in his chamber. It was good that he wore +no sword. He might have slain himself. + +Yet, he communed in his heart, was it not best? Was he not dead to Athens? +Must Hermione mourn him down to old age? And whom better could she take +than Democrates, the man who had sacrificed even friendship for love of +country? + +Artabanus, the vizier, gave a great feast that night. They drank the +pledge, "Victory to the king, destruction to his enemies." The lords all +looked on Glaucon to see if he would touch the cup. He drank deeply. They +applauded him. He remained long at the wine, the slaves bore him home +drunken. In the morning Mardonius said Xerxes ordered him to serve in the +cavalry guards, a post full of honour and chance for promotion. Glaucon +did not resist. Mardonius sent him a silvered cuirass and a black horse +from the steppes of Bactria,--fleet as the north wind. In his new armour he +went to the chambers of Artazostra and Roxana. They had never seen him in +panoply before. The brilliant mail became him rarely. The ladies were +delighted. + +"You grow Persian apace, my Lord Prexaspes,"--Roxana always called him by +his new name now,--"soon we shall hail you as 'your Magnificence' the +satrap of Parthia or Asia or some other kingly province in the East." + +"I do well to become Persian," he answered bitterly, unmoved by the +admiration, "for yesterday I heard that which makes it more than ever +manifest that Glaucon the Athenian is dead. And whether he shall ever rise +to live again, Zeus knoweth; but from me it is hid." + +Artazostra did not approach, but Roxana came near, as if to draw the +buckle of the golden girdle--the gift of Xerxes. He saw the turquoise +shining on the tiara that bound her jet-black hair, the fine dark profile +of her face, her delicate nostrils, the sweep of drapery that half +revealed the form so full of grace. Was there more than passing friendship +in the tone with which she spoke to him? + +"You have heard from Athens?" + +"Yes." + +"And the tidings were evil." + +"Why call them evil, princess? My friends all believe me dead. Can they +mourn for me forever? They can forget me, alas! more easily than I in my +lonesomeness can forget them." + +"You are very lonely?"--the hand that drew the buckle worked slowly. How +soft it was, how delicately the Nile sun had tinted it! + +"Do you say you have no friends? None? Not in Sardis? Not among the +Persians?" + +"I said not that, dear lady,--but when can a man have more than one native +country?--and mine is Attica, and Attica is far away." + +"And you can never have another? Can new friendships never take the place +of those that lie forever dead?" + +"I do not know." + +"Ah, believe, new home, new friends, new love, are more than possible, +will you but open your heart to suffer them." + +The voice both thrilled and trembled now, then suddenly ceased. The colour +sprang into Roxana's forehead. Glaucon bowed and kissed her hand. It +seemed to rise to his lips very willingly. + +"I thank you for your fair hopes. Farewell." That was all he said, but as +he went forth from Roxana's presence, the pang of the tidings brought by +the Carian seemed less keen. + + * * * * * * * + +The hosts gathered daily. Xerxes spent his time in dicing, hunting, +drinking, or amusing himself with his favourite by-play, wood-carving. He +held a few solemn state councils, at which he appeared to determine all +things and was actually guided by Artabanus and Mardonius. Now, at last, +all the colossal machinery which was to crush down Hellas was being set in +motion. Glaucon learned how futile was Themistocles's hope of succour to +Athens from the Sicilian Greeks, for,--thanks to Mardonius's indefatigable +diplomacy,--it was arranged that the Phoenicians of Carthage should launch a +powerful armament against the Sicilians, the same moment Xerxes descended +on Sparta and Athens. With calm satisfaction Mardonius watched the +completion of his efforts. All was ready,--the army of hundreds of +thousands, the twelve hundred war-ships, the bridges across the +Hellespont, the canal at Mt. Athos. Glaucon's admiration for the son of +Gobryas grew apace. Xerxes was the outward head of the attack on Hellas. +Mardonius was the soul. He was the idol of the army--its best archer and +rider. Unlike his peers, he maintained no huge harem of jealous concubines +and conspiring eunuchs. Artazostra he worshipped. Roxana he loved. He had +no time for other women. No servant of Xerxes seemed outwardly more +obedient than he. Night and day he wrought for the glory of Persia. +Therefore, Glaucon looked on him with dread. In him Themistocles and +Leonidas would find a worthy foeman. + +Daily Glaucon felt the Persian influence stealing upon him. He grew even +accustomed to think of himself under his new name. Greeks were about him: +Demaratus, the outlawed "half-king" of Sparta, and the sons of Hippias, +late tyrant of Athens. He scorned the company of these renegades. Yet +sometimes he would ask himself wherein was he better than they,--had +Democrates's accusation been true, could he have asked a greater reward +from the Barbarian? And what he would do on the day of battle he did not +dare to ask of his own soul. + + * * * * * * * + +Xerxes left Sardis with the host amidst the same splendour with which he +had entered. Glaucon rode in the Life Guard, and saw royalty frequently, +for the king loved to meet handsome men. Once he held the stirrup as +Xerxes dismounted--an honour which provoked much envious grumbling. +Artazostra and Roxana travelled in their closed litters with the train of +women and eunuchs which followed every Persian army. Thus the myriads +rolled onward through Lydia and Mysia, drinking the rivers dry by their +numbers; and across the immortal plains of Troy passed that army which was +destined to do and suffer greater things than were wrought beside the +poet-sung Simois and Scamander, till at last they came to the Hellespont, +the green river seven furlongs wide, that sundered conquered Asia from the +Europe yet to be conquered. + +Here were the two bridges of ships, more than three hundred in each, held +by giant cables, and which upbore a firm earthen road, protected by a high +bulwark, that the horses and camels might take no fright at the water. +Here, also, the fleet met them,--the armaments of the East, Phoenicians, +Cilicians, Egyptians, Cyprians,--more triremes and transports than had ever +before ridden upon the seas. And as he saw all this power, all directed by +one will, Glaucon grew even more despondent. How could puny, faction-rent +Hellas bear up against this might? Only when he looked on the myriads +passing, and saw how the captains swung long whips and cracked the lash +across the backs of their spearmen, as over driven cattle, did a little +comfort come. For he knew there was still a fire in Athens and Sparta, a +fire not in Susa nor in Babylon, which kindled free souls and free hands +to dare and do great things. "Whom will the high Zeus prosper when the +_slaves_ of Xerxes stand face to face with _men_?" + +A proud thought,--but it ceased to comfort him, as all that afternoon he +stood near the marble throne of the "Lord of the World," whence Xerxes +overlooked his myriads while they filed by, watched the races of swift +triremes, and heard the proud assurances of his officers that "no king +since the beginning of time, not Thothmes of Egypt, not Sennacherib of +Assyria, not Cyrus nor Darius, had arrayed such hosts as his that day." + +Then evening came. Glaucon was, after his wont, in the private pavilion of +Mardonius,--itself a palace walled with crimson tapestry in lieu of marble. +He sat silent and moody for long, the bright fence of the ladies or of the +bow-bearer seldom moving him to answer. And at last Artazostra could +endure it no more. + +"What has tied your tongue, Prexaspes? Surely my brother in one of his +pleasantries has not ordered that it be cut out? Your skin is too fair to +let you be enrolled amongst his Libyan mutes." + +The Hellene answered with a pitiful attempt at laughter. + +"Silent, am I? Then silent because I am admiring your noble ladyship's +play of wit." + +Artazostra shook her head. + +"Impossible. Your eyes were glazed like the blue of Egyptian beads. You +were not listening to me. You were seeing sights and hearkening to voices +far away." + +"You press me hard, lady," he confessed; "how can I answer? No man is +master of his roving thoughts,--at least, not I." + +"You were seeing Athens. Are you so enamoured of your stony country that +you believe no other land can be so fair?" + +"Stony it is, lady,--you have seen it,--but there is no sun like the sun +that gilds the Acropolis; no birds sing like the nightingales from the +grove by the Cephissus; no trees speak with the murmur of the olives at +Colonus, or on the hill slope at Eleusis-by-the-Sea. I can answer you in +the words of Homer, the singer of Hellas, the words he sets on the tongue +of a wanderer and outcast, even as I. 'A rugged land, yet nurse of noble +men, and for myself I can see naught sweeter than a man's own country.' " + +The praise of his native land had brought the colour into the cheeks of +the Athenian, his voice rose to enthusiasm. He knew that Roxana was +watching him intently. + +"Beautiful it must be, dear Hellene," she spoke, as she sat upon the +footstool below the couch of her brother, "yet you have not seen all the +world. You have not seen the mystic Nile, Memphis, Thebes, and Sais, our +wondrous cities; have not seen how the sun rises over the desert, how it +turns the sand hills to red gold, how at sunset the cliffs glow like walls +of beryl and sard and golden jasper." + +"Tell then of Egypt," said Glaucon, clearly taking pleasure in the music +of her voice. + +"Not to-night. I have praised it before. Rather I will praise also the +rose valleys of Persia and Bactria, whither Mardonius took me after my +dear father died." + +"Are they very beautiful also?" + +"Beautiful as the Egyptian's House of the Blessed, for those who have +passed the dread bar of Osiris; beautiful as Airyana-Vaeya, the home land +of the Aryans, whence Ahura-Mazda sent them forth. The winters are short, +the summers bright and long. Neither too much rain nor burning heat. The +Paradise by Sardis is nothing beside them. One breathes in the roses, and +hearkens to the bulbuls--our Aryan nightingales--all day and all night long. +The streams bubble with cool water. At Susa the palace is fairer than word +may tell. Hither the court comes each summer from the tedious glories of +Babylon. The columns of the palace reach up to heaven, but no walls +engirdle them, only curtains green, white, and blue,--whilst the warm sweet +breeze blows always thither from green prairies." + +"You draw a picture fair as the plains of Elysium, dear lady," spoke +Glaucon, his own gaze following the light that burned in hers, "and yet I +would not seek refuge even in the king's court with all its beauty. There +are times when I long to pray the god, 'Give to me wings, eagle wings from +Zeus's own bird, and let me go to the ends of the earth, and there in some +charmed valley I may find at last the spring of Lethe water, the water of +forgetfulness that gives peace.' " + +Roxana looked on him; pity was in her eyes, and he knew he was taking +pleasure in her pitying. + +"The magic water you ask is not to be drunk from goblets," she answered +him, "but the charmed valley lies in the vales of Bactria, the 'Roof of +the World,' high amid mountains crowned with immortal snows. Every good +tree and flower are here, and here winds the mystic Oxus, the great river +sweeping northward. And here, if anywhere, on Mazda's wide, green earth, +can the trouble-tossed have peace." + +"Then it is so beautiful?" said the Athenian. + +"Beautiful," answered Mardonius and Artazostra together. And Roxana, with +an approving nod from her brother, arose and crossed the tent where hung a +simple harp. + +"Will my Lord Prexaspes listen," she asked, "if I sing him one of the +homely songs of the Aryans in praise of the vales by the Oxus? My skill is +small." + +"It should suffice to turn the heart of Persephone, even as did Orpheus," +answered the Athenian, never taking his gaze from her. + +The soft light of the swinging lamps, the heavy fragrance of the +frankincense which smouldered on the brazier, the dark lustre of the +singer's eyes--all held Glaucon as by a spell. Roxana struck the harp. Her +voice was sweet, and more than desire to please throbbed through the +strings and song. + + "O far away is gliding + The pleasant Oxus's stream, + I see the green glades darkling, + I see the clear pools gleam. + I hear the bulbuls calling + From blooming tree to tree. + Wave, bird, and tree are singing, + 'Away! ah, come with me!' + + "By Oxus's stream is rising + Great Cyrus's marble halls; + Like rain of purest silver, + His tinkling fountain falls; + To his cool verdant arbours + What joy with thee to flee. + I'll join with bird and river, + 'Away! rest there with me!' + + "Forget, forget old sorrows, + Forget the dear things lost! + There comes new peace, new brightness, + When darksome waves are crossed; + By Oxus's streams abiding, + From pang and strife set free, + I'll teach thee love and gladness,-- + Rest there, for aye, with me!" + +The light, the fragrance, the song so pregnant with meaning, all wrought +upon Glaucon of Athens. He felt the warm glow in his cheeks; he felt +subtle hands outstretching as if drawing forth his spirit. Roxana's eyes +were upon him as she ended. Their gaze met. She was very fair, high-born, +sensitive. She was inviting him to put away Glaucon the outcast from +Hellas, to become body and soul Prexaspes the Persian, "Benefactor of the +King," and sharer in all the glories of the conquering race. All the past +seemed slipping away from him as unreal. Roxana stood before him in her +dark Oriental beauty; Hermione was in Athens--and they were giving her in +marriage to Democrates. What wonder he felt no mastery of himself, though +all that day he had kept from wine? + +"A simple song," spoke Mardonius, who seemed marvellously pleased at all +his sister did, "yet not lacking its sweetness. We Aryans are without the +elaborate music the Greeks and Babylonians affect." + +"Simplicity is the highest beauty," answered the Greek, as if still in his +trance, "and when I hear Euphrosyne, fairest of the Graces, sing with the +voice of Erato, the Song-Queen, I grow afraid. For a mortal may not hear +things too divine and live." + +Roxana replaced the harp and made one of her inimitable Oriental +courtesies,--a token at once of gratitude and farewell for the evening. +Glaucon never took his gaze from her, until with a rustle and sweep of her +blue gauze she had glided out of the tent. He did not see the meaning +glances exchanged by Mardonius and Artazostra before the latter left them. + +When the two men were alone, the bow-bearer asked a question. + +"Dear Prexaspes, do you not think I should bless the twelve archangels I +possess so beautiful a sister?" + +"She is so fair, I wonder that Zeus does not haste from Olympus to +enthrone her in place of Hera." + +The bow-bearer laughed. + +"No, I crave for her only a mortal husband. Though there are few in +Persia, in Media, in the wide East, to whom I dare entrust her. +Perhaps,"--his laugh grew lighter,--"I would do well to turn my eyes +westward." + +Glaucon did not see Roxana again the next day nor for several following, +but in those days he thought much less on Hermione and on Athens. + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII + + + DEMOCRATES'S TROUBLES RETURN + + +All through that year to its close and again to the verge of springtime +the sun made violet haze upon the hills and pure fire of the bay at +Eleusis-by-the-Sea. Night by night the bird song would be stilled in the +old olives along the dark waters. There Hermione would sit looking off +into the void, as many another in like plight has sat and wearily waited, +asking of the night and the sea the questions that are never answered. As +the bay shimmered under the light of morning, she could gaze toward the +brown crags of Salamis and the open AEgean beyond. The waves kept their +abiding secret. The tall triremes, the red-sailed fishers' boats, came and +went from the havens of Athens, but Hermione never saw the ship that had +borne away her all. + +The roar and scandal following the unmasking of Glaucon had long since +abated. Hermippus--himself full five years grayer on account of the +calamity--had taken his daughter again to quiet Eleusis, where there was +less to remind her of that terrible night at Colonus. She spent the autumn +and winter in an unbroken shadow life, with only her mother and old +Cleopis for companions. Reasons not yet told to the world gave her a +little hope and comfort. But in mere desire to make her dark cloud break, +her parents were continually giving Hermione pain. She guessed it long +before her father's wishes passed beyond vaguest hints. She heard him +praising Democrates, his zeal for Athens and Hellas, his fair worldly +prospects, and there needed no diviner to reveal Hermippus's hidden +meaning. Once she overheard Cleopis talking with another maid. + +"Her Ladyship has taken on terribly, to be sure, but I told her mother +'when a fire blazes too hot, it burns out simply the faster.' Democrates +is just the man to console in another year." + +"Yes," answered the other wiseacre, "she's far too young and pretty to +stay unwedded very long. Aphrodite didn't make her to sit as an old maid +carding wool and munching beans. One can see Hermippus's and Lysistra's +purpose with half an eye." + +"Cleopis, Nania, what is this vile tattling that I hear?" + +The young mistress's eyes blazed fury. Nania turned pale. Hermione was +quite capable of giving her a sound whipping, but Cleopis mustered a bold +front and a ready lie: + +"_Ei!_ dear little lady, don't flash up so! I was only talking with Nania +about how Phryne the scullion maid was making eyes at Scylax the groom." + +"I heard you quite otherwise," was the nigh tremulous answer. But Hermione +was not anxious to push matters to an issue. From the moment of Glaucon's +downfall she had believed--what even her own mother had mildly derided--that +Democrates had been the author of her husband's ruin. And now that the +intent of her parents ever more clearly dawned on her, she was close upon +despair. Hermippus, however,--whatever his purpose,--was considerate, nay +kindly. He regarded Hermione's feelings as pardonable, if not laudable. He +would wait for time to soothe her. But the consciousness that her father +purposed such a fate for her, however far postponed, was enough to double +all the unanswered longing, the unstilled pain. + +Glaucon was gone. And with him gone, could Hermione's sun ever rise again? +Could she hope, across the end of the aeons, to clasp hands even in the dim +House of Hades with her glorious husband? If there was chance thereof, +dark Hades would grow bright as Olympus. How gladly she would fare out to +the shade land, when Hermes led down his troops of helpless dead. + + "Downward, down the long dark pathway, + Past Oceanus's great streams, + Past the White Rock, past the Sun's gates + Downward to the land of Dreams: + There they reach the wide dim borders + Of the fields of asphodel, + Where the spectres and the spirits + Of wan, outworn mortals dwell." + +But was this the home of Glaucon the Fair; should the young, the strong, +the pure in heart, share one condemnation with the mean and the guilty? +Homer the Wise left all hid. Yet he told of some not doomed to the common +lot. Thus ran the promise to Menelaus, espoused to Helen. + + "Far away the gods shall bear you: + To the fair Elysian plains, + Where the time fleets gladly, swiftly, + Where bright Rhadamanthus reigns: + Snow is not, nor rain, nor winter, + But clear zephyrs from the west, + Singing round the streams of Ocean + Round the islands of the Blest." + +Was the pledge for Menelaus only? + +The boats came, the boats went, on the blue bay. But as the spring grew +warm, Hermione thought less of them, less almost of the last dread vision +of Glaucon. + + * * * * * * * + +The cloud of the Persian hung ever darkening over Athens. Continual +rumours made Xerxes's power terrible even beyond fact. It was hard to go +on eating, drinking, frequenting the jury or the gymnasium, when men knew +to a certainty the coming summer would bring Athens face to face with +slavery or destruction. Wise men grew silent. Fools took to carousing to +banish care. But one word not the frailest uttered--"submission." Worldly +prudence forbade that. The women would have stabbed the craven to death +with their bodkins. For the women were braver than the men. They knew the +fate of conquered Ionia: for the men only merciful death, for the women +the living death of the Persian harems and indignities words may not +utter. Whether Hellas forsook her or aided, Athens had chosen her fate. +Xerxes might annihilate her. Conquer her he could not. + +Yet the early spring came back sweetly as ever. The warm breeze blew from +Egypt. Philomela sang in the olive groves. The snows on Pentelicus faded. +Around the city ran bands of children singing the "swallow's song," and +beseeching the spring donation of honey cakes:-- + + "She is here, she is here, the swallow; + Fair seasons bringing,--fair seasons to follow." + +And many a housewife, as she rewarded the singers, dropped a silent tear, +wondering whether another spring would see the innocents anywhere save in +a Persian slave-pen, or, better fate, in Orchus. + +Yet to one woman that spring there came consolation. On Hermippus's door +hung a glad olive wreath. Hermione had borne a son. "The fairest babe she +had ever seen," cried the midwife. "Phoenix," the mother called him, "for +in him shall Glaucon the Beautiful live again." Democrates sent a runner +every day to Eleusis to inquire for Hermione until all danger was passed. +On the "name-day," ten days after the birth, he was absent from the +gathering of friends and kinsmen, but sent a valuable statuette to +Hermione, who left it, however, to her father to thank him. + +The day after Phoenix was born old Conon, Glaucon's father, died. The old +man had never recovered from the blow given by the dishonourable death of +the son with whom he had so lately quarrelled. He left a great landed +estate at Marathon to his new-born grandson. The exact value thereof +Democrates inquired into sharply, and when a distant cousin talked of +contesting the will, the orator announced he would defend the infant's +rights. The would-be plaintiff withdrew at once, not anxious to cross +swords with this favourite of the juries, and everybody said that +Democrates was showing a most scrupulous regard for his unfortunate +friend's memory. + +Indeed, seemingly, Democrates ought to have been the happiest man in +Athens. He had been elected "strategus," to serve on the board of generals +along with Themistocles. He had plenty of money, and gave great banquets +to this or that group of prominent citizens. During the winter he had +asked Hermippus for his daughter in marriage. The Eumolpid told him that +since Glaucon's fearful end, he was welcome as a son-in-law. Still he +could not conceal that Hermione never spoke of him save in hate, and in +view of her then delicate condition it was well not to press the matter. +The orator had seemed well content. "Woman's fantasies would wear away in +time." But the rumour of this negotiation, outrunning truth, grew into the +lying report of an absolute betrothal,--the report which was to drift to +Asia and turn Glaucon's heart to stone, gossip having always wrought more +harm than malignant lying. + +Yet flies were in Democrates's sweet ointment. He knew Themistocles hardly +trusted him as frankly as of yore. Little Simonides, a man of wide +influence and keen insight, treated him very coldly. Cimon had cooled +also. But worse than all was a haunting dread. Democrates knew, if hardly +another in Hellas, that the Cyprian--in other words Mardonius--was safe in +Asia, and likewise that he had fled on the _Solon_. Mardonius, then, had +escaped the storm. What if the same miracle had saved the outlaw? What if +the dead should awake? The chimera haunted Democrates night and day. + +Still he was beginning to shake off his terrors. He believed he had washed +his hands fairly clean of his treason, even if the water had cost his +soul. He joined with all his energies in seconding Themistocles. His voice +was loudest at the Pnyx, counselling resistance. He went on successful +embassies to Sicyon and AEgina to get pledges of alliance. In the summer he +did his uttermost to prepare the army which Themistocles and Evaenetus the +Spartan led to defend the pass of Tempe. The expedition sailed amid high +hopes for a noble defence of Hellas. Democrates was proud and sanguine. +Then, like a thunderbolt, there came one night a knock at his door. Bias +led to his master no less a visitor than the sleek and smiling +Phoenician--Hiram. + +The orator tried to cover his terrors by windy bluster. He broke in before +the Oriental could finish his elaborate salaam. + +"Of all the harpies and gorgons you are the least welcome. Were you not +warned when you fled Athens for Argos never to show your face in Attica +again?" + +"Your Excellency said so," was the bland reply. + +"Admirably you obey it. It remains for me to reward the obedience. Bias, +go to the street; summon two Scythian watchmen." + +The Thracian darted out. Hiram simply stood with hands folded. + +"It is well, Excellency, the lad is gone. I have many things to say in +confidence to your Nobility. At Lacedaemon my Lord Lycon was gracious +enough to give certain commands for me to transmit to you." + +"Commands? To me? Earth and gods! am I to be commanded by an adder like +you? You shall pay for this on the rack." + +"Your slave thinks otherwise," observed Hiram, humbly. "If your Lordship +will deign to read this letter, it will save your slave many words and +your Lordship many cursings." + +He knelt again before he offered a papyrus. Democrates would rather have +taken fire, but he could not refuse. And thus he read:-- + +"Lycon of Lacedaemon to Democrates of Athens, greeting:--Can he who Medizes +in the summer Hellenize in the spring? I know your zeal for Themistocles. +Was it for this we plucked you back from exposure and ruin? Do then as +Hiram bids you, or repay the money you clutched so eagerly. Fail not, or +rest confident all the documents you betrayed shall go to Hypsichides the +First Archon, your enemy. Use then your eloquence on Attic juries! But you +will grow wise; what need of me to threaten? You will hearken to Hiram. + +"From Sparta, on the festival of Bellerophon, in the ephorship of +Theudas.--_Chaire!_" + +Democrates folded the papyrus and stood long, biting his whitened lips in +silence. Perhaps he had surmised the intent of the letter the instant +Hiram extended it. + +"What do you desire?" he said thickly, at last. + +"Let my Lord then hearken--" began the Phoenician, to be interrupted by the +sudden advent of Bias. + +"The Scythians are at the door, _kyrie_," he was shouting; "shall I order +them in and drag this lizard out by the tail?" + +"No, in Zeus's name, no! Bid them keep without. And do you go also. This +honest fellow is on private business which only I must hear." + +Bias slammed the door. Perhaps he stood listening. Hiram, at least, glided +nearer to his victim and spoke in a smooth whisper, taking no chances of +an eavesdropper. + +"Excellency, the desire of Lycon is this. The army has been sent to Tempe. +At Lacedaemon Lycon used all his power to prevent its despatch, but +Leonidas is omnipotent to-day in Sparta, and besides, since Lycon's +calamity at the Isthmia, his prestige, and therefore his influence, is not +a little abated. Nevertheless, the army must be recalled from Tempe." + +"And the means?" + +"Yourself, Excellency. It is within your power to find a thousand good +reasons why Themistocles and Evaenetus should retreat. And you will do so +at once, Excellency." + +"Do not think you and your accursed masters can drive me from infamy to +infamy. I can be terrible if pushed to bay." + +"Your Nobility has read Lycon's letter," observed the Phoenician, with +folded arms. + +There was a sword lying on the tripod by which Democrates stood; he +regretted for all the rest of his life that he had not seized it and ended +the snakelike Oriental then and there. The impulse came, and went. The +opportunity never returned. The orator's head dropped down upon his +breast. + +"Go back to Sparta, go back instantly," he spoke in a hoarse whisper. +"Tell that Polyphemus you call your master there that I will do his will. +And tell him, too, that if ever the day comes for vengeance on him, on the +Cyprian, on you,--my vengeance will be terrible." + +"Your slave's ears hear the first part of your message with joy,"--Hiram's +smile never grew broader,--"the second part, which my Lord speaks in +anger,--I will forget." + +"Go! go!" ordered the orator, furiously. He clapped his hands. Bias +reentered. + +"Tell the constables I don't need them. Here is an obol apiece for their +trouble. Conduct this man out. If he comes hither again, do you and the +other slaves beat him till there is not a whole spot left on his body." + +Hiram's genuflexion was worthy of Xerxes's court. + +"My Lord, as always," was his parting compliment, "has shown himself +exceeding wise." + +Thus the Oriental went. In what a mood Democrates passed the remaining day +needs only scant wits to guess. Clearer, clearer in his ears was ringing +AEschylus's song of the Furies. He could not silence it. + + "With scourge and with ban + We prostrate the man + Who with smooth-woven wile + And a fair-faced smile + Hath planted a snare for his friend! + Though fleet, we shall find him; + Though strong, we shall bind him, + Who planted a snare for his friend!" + +He had intended to be loyal to Hellas,--to strive valiantly for her +freedom,--and now! Was the Nemesis coming upon him, not in one great clap, +but stealthily, finger by finger, cubit by cubit, until his soul's price +was to be utterly paid? Was this the beginning of the recompense for the +night scene at Colonus? + +The next morning he made a formal visit to the shrine of the Furies in the +hill of Areopagus. "An old vow, too long deferred in payment, taken when +he joined in his first contest on the Bema," he explained to friends, when +he visited this uncanny spot. + +Few were the Athenians who would pass that cleft in the Areopagus where +the "Avengers" had their grim sanctuary without a quick motion of the +hands to avert the evil eye. Thieves and others of evil conscience would +make a wide circuit rather than pass this abode of Alecto, Megaera, and +Tisiphone, pitiless pursuers of the guilty. The terrible sisters hounded a +man through life, and after death to the judgment bar of Minos. With +reason, therefore, the guilty dreaded them. + +Democrates had brought the proper sacrifices--two black rams, which were +duly slaughtered upon the little altar before the shrine and sprinkled +with sweetened water. The priestess, a gray hag herself, asked her visitor +if he would enter the cavern and proffer his petition to the mighty +goddesses. Leaving his friends outside, the orator passed through the door +which the priestess seemed to open in the side of the cave. He saw only a +jagged, unhewn cranny, barely tall enough for a man to stand upright and +reaching far into the sculptured rock. No image: only a few rough votive +tablets set up by a grateful suppliant for some mercy from the awful +goddesses. + +"If you would pray here, _kyrie_," said the hag, "it is needful that I go +forth and close the door. The holy Furies love the dark, for is not their +home in Tartarus?" + +She went forth. As the light vanished, Democrates seemed buried in the +rock. Out of the blackness spectres were springing against him. From a +cleft he heard a flapping, a bat, an imprisoned bird, or Alecto's direful +wings. He held his hands downward, for he had to address infernal +goddesses, and prayed in haste. + +"O ye sisters, terrible yet gracious, give ear. If by my offerings I have +found favour, lift from my heart this crushing load. Deliver me from the +fear of the blood guilty. Are ye not divine? Do not the immortals know all +things? Ye know, then, how I was tempted, how sore was the compulsion, and +how life and love were sweet. Then spare me. Give me back unhaunted +slumber. Deliver me from Lycon. Give my soul peace,--and in reward, I swear +it by the Styx, by Zeus's own oath, I will build in your honour a temple +by your sacred field at Colonus, where men shall gather to reverence you +forever." + +But here he ceased. In the darkness moved something white. Again a +flapping. He was sure the white thing was Glaucon's face. Glaucon had +perished at sea. He had never been buried, so his ghost was wandering over +the world, seeking vainly for rest. It all came to Democrates in an +instant. His knees smote together; his teeth chattered. He sprang back +upon the door and forced it open, but never saw the dove that fluttered +forth with him. + +"A hideous place!" he cried to his waiting friends. "A man must have a +stronger heart than mine to love to tarry after his prayer is finished." + +Only a few days later Hellas was startled to hear that Tempe had been +evacuated without a blow, and the pass left open to Xerxes. It was said +Democrates, in his ever commendable activity, had discovered at the last +moment the mountain wall was not as defensible as hoped, and any +resistance would have been disastrous. Therefore, whilst the retreat was +bewailed, everybody praised the foresight of the orator. Everybody--one +should say, except two, Bias and Phormio. They had many conferences +together, especially after the coming and going of Hiram. + +"There is a larger tunny in the sea than yet has entered the meshes," +confessed the fishmonger, sorely puzzled, after much vain talk. + +But Hermione was caring for none of these things. Her hands were busy with +the swaddling clothes. Her thoughts only for that wicker cradle which +swung betwixt the pillars, where Hermippus's house looked toward Salamis. + + + + + CHAPTER XIX + + + THE COMMANDMENT OF XERXES + + +It is easy to praise the blessings of peace. Still easier to paint the +horrors of war,--and yet war will remain for all time the greatest game at +which human wits can play. For in it every form of courage, physical and +moral, and every talent are called into being. If war at once develops the +bestial, it also develops as promptly the heroic. Alone of human +activities it demands a brute's strength, an iron will, a serpent's +intellect, a lion's courage--all in one. And of him who has these things in +justest measure, history writes, "He conquered." It was because Mardonius +seemed to possess all these, to foresee everything, to surmount +everything, that Glaucon despaired for the fate of Hellas, even more than +when he beheld the crushing armaments of the Persian. + +Yet for long it seemed as if the host would march even to Athens without +battle, without invoking Mardonius's skill. The king crossed Thrace and +Macedonia, meeting only trembling hospitality from the cities along his +route. At Doriscus he had held a review of his army, and smiled when the +fawning scribes told how one million seven hundred thousand foot and +eighty thousand horse followed his banners.(8) Every fugitive and spy from +southern Hellas told how the hearts of the stanchest patriots were +sinking, how everywhere save in Athens and Sparta loud voices urged the +sending of "earth and water,"--tokens of submission to the irresistible +king. At the pass of Tempe covering Thessaly, Glaucon, who knew the hopes +of Themistocles, had been certain the Hellenes would make a stand. Rumour +had it that ten thousand Greek infantry were indeed there, and ready for +battle. But the outlaw's expectations were utterly shattered. To the +disgust of the Persian lords, who dearly loved brisk fighting, it was soon +told how the cowardly Hellenes had fled by ship, leaving the rich plains +of Thessaly bare to the invader. + +Thus was blasted Glaucon's last hope. Hellas was doomed. He almost looked +to see Themistocles coming as ambassador to bring the homage of Athens. +Since his old life seemed closed to the outlaw, he allowed Mardonius to +have his will with him,--to teach him to act, speak, think, as an Oriental. +He even bowed himself low before the king, an act rewarded by being +commanded one evening to play at dice with majesty itself. Xerxes was +actually gracious enough to let his new subject win from him three +handsome Syrian slave-boys. + +"You Hellenes are becoming wise," announced the monarch one day, when the +Locrian envoys came with their earth and water. "If you can learn to speak +the truth, you will equal even the virtues of the Aryans." + +"Your Majesty has not found me a liar," rejoined the Athenian, warmly. + +"You gather our virtues apace. I must consider how I can reward you by +promotion." + +"The king is overwhelmingly generous. Already I fear many of his servants +mutter that I am promoted beyond all desert." + +"Mutter? mutter against you?" The king's eyes flashed ominously. "By +Mazda, it is against me, then, who advanced you! Hearken, Otanes,"--he +addressed the general of the Persian footmen, who stood near by,--"who are +the disobedient slaves who question my advancement of Prexaspes?" + +The general--he had been the loudest grumbler--bowed and kissed the carpet. + +"None, your Eternity; on the contrary, there is not one Aryan in the host +who does not rejoice the king has found so noble an object for his godlike +bounty." + +"You hear, Prexaspes," said Xerxes, mollified. "I am glad, for the man who +questions my wisdom touching your advancement must be impaled. To-morrow +is my birthday, you will not fail to sit with the other great lords at the +banquet." + +"The king overpowers me with his goodness." + +"Do not fail to deserve it. Mardonius is always praising you. Consider +also how much better it is to depend on a gracious king than on the +clamour of the fickle mob that rules in your helpless cities!" + + * * * * * * * + +The next morning was the royal birthday. The army, pitched in the fertile +plain by Thessalian Larissa, feasted on the abundance at hand. The king +distributed huge largesses of money. All day long he sat in his +palace-like tent, receiving congratulations from even the lowest of his +followers, and bound in turn not to reject any reasonable petition. The +Magi sacrificed blooded stallions and rare spices to Mithra the "Lord of +Wide Pastures," to Vohu-Manu the "Holy Councillor," and all their other +angels, desiring them to bless the arms of the king. + +The "Perfect Banquet" of the birthday came in the evening. It hardly +differed from the feast at Sardis. The royal pavilion had its poles plated +with silver, the tapestries were green and purple, the couches were spread +with gorgeous coverlets. Only the drinking was more moderate, the +ceremonial less rigid. The fortunate guests devoured dainties reserved for +the special use of royalty: the flour of the bread was from Assos, the +wine from Helbon, the water to dilute the wine had come in silver flasks +from the Choaspes by Susa. The king even distributed the special unguent +of lion's fat and palm wine which no subject, unpermitted, could use and +shun the death penalty. + +Then at the end certain of the fairest of the women came and danced +unveiled before the king--this one night when they might show forth their +beauty. And last of all danced Roxana. She danced alone; a diaphanous +drapery of pink Egyptian cotton blew around her as an evening cloud. From +her black hair shone the diamond coronet. To the sensuous swing of the +music she wound in and out before the king and his admiring lords, +advancing, retreating, rising, swaying, a paragon of agility and grace, +feet, body, hands, weaving their charm together. When at the end she fell +on her knees before the king, demanding whether she had done well, the +applause shook the pavilion. The king looked down on her, smiling. + +"Rise, sister of Mardonius. All Eran rejoices in you to-night. And on this +evening whose request can I fail to grant? Whose can I grant more gladly +than yours? Speak; you shall have it, though it be for half my kingdoms." + +The dancer arose, but hung down her flashing coronal. Her blush was +enchanting. She stood silent, while the good-humoured king smiled down on +her, till Artazostra came from her seat by Mardonius and whispered in her +ear. Every neck in the crowded pavilion was craned as Artazostra spoke to +Xerxes. + +"May it please my royal brother, this is the word of Roxana. 'I love my +brother Mardonius; nevertheless, contrary to the Persian custom, he keeps +me now to my nineteenth year unwedded. If now I have found favour in the +sight of the king, let him command Mardonius to give me to some noble +youth who shall do me honour by the valiant deeds and the true service he +shall render unto my Lord.' " + +"A fair petition! Let the king grant it!" shouted twenty; while others +more wise whispered, "This was not done without foreknowledge by +Mardonius." + +Xerxes smiled benignantly and rubbed his nose with the lion's fat while +deliberating. + +"An evil precedent, lady, an evil precedent when women demand husbands and +do not wait for their fathers' or brothers' good pleasure. But I have +promised. The word of the king is not to be broken. Daughter of Gobryas, +your petition is granted. Come hither, Mardonius,"--the bow-bearer +approached the throne,--"you have heard the bold desire of your sister, and +my answer. I must command you to bestow on her a husband." + +The bow-bearer bowed obediently. + +"I hear the word of the king, and all his mandates are good. This is no +meet time for marriage festivities, when the Lord of the World and all the +Aryan power goes forth to war. Yet as soon as the impious rebels amongst +the Hellenes shall be subdued, I will rejoice to bestow my sister upon +whatsoever fortunate servant the king may deign to honour." + +"You hear him, lady,"--the royal features assumed a grin, which was +reflected throughout the pavilion. "A husband you shall have, but +Mardonius shall be revenged. Your fate is in my hands. And shall not +I,--guardian of the households of my empire,--give a warning to all bold +maidens against lifting their wills too proudly, or presuming upon an +overindulgent king? What then shall be just punishment?" The king bent his +head, still rubbing his nose, and trying to persuade all about that he was +meditating. + +"Bardas, satrap of Sogandia, is old; he has but one eye; they say he beats +his eleven wives daily with a whip of rhinoceros hide. It would be just if +I gave him this woman also in marriage. What think you, Hydarnes?" + +"If your Eternity bestows this woman on Bardas, every husband and father +in all your kingdoms will applaud your act," smiled the commander. + +The threatened lady fell again on her knees, outstretching her hands and +beseeching mercy,--never a more charming picture of misery and contrition. + +"You tremble, lady," went on the sovran, "and justly. It were better for +my empire if my heart were less hard. After all, you danced so elegantly +that I must be mollified. There is the young Prince Zophyrus, son of Datis +the general,--he has only five wives already. True, he is usually the worse +for wine, is not handsome, and killed one of his women not long since +because she did not sing to please him. Yes--you shall have Zophyrus--he +will surely rule you--" + +"Mercy, not Zophyrus, gracious Lord," pleaded the abject Egyptian. + +The king looked down on her, with a broader grin than ever. + +"You are very hard to please. I ought to punish your wilfulness by some +dreadful doom. Do not cry out again. I will not hear you. My decision is +fixed. Mardonius shall bestow you in marriage to a man who is not even a +Persian by birth, who one year since was a disobedient rebel against my +power, who even now contemns and despises many of the good customs of the +Aryans. Hark, then, to his name. When Hellas is conquered, I command that +Mardonius wed you to the Lord Prexaspes." + +The king broke into an uproarious laugh, a signal for the thousand loyal +subjects within the great pavilion to roar with laughter also. In the +confusion following Artazostra and Roxana disappeared. Fifty hands dragged +the appointed bridegroom to the king, showering on him all manner of +congratulations. Xerxes's act was a plain proof that he was adopting the +beautiful Hellene as one of his personal favourites,--a post of influence +and honour not to be despised by a vizier. What "Prexaspes" said when he +thanked the king was drowned in the tumult of laughing and cheering. The +monarch, delighted to play the gracious god, roared his injunctions to the +Athenian so loud that above the din they heard him. + +"You will bridle her well, Prexaspes. I know them--those Egyptian fillies! +They need a hard curb and the lash at times. Beware the tyranny of your +own harem. I would not have the satrapies know how certain bright eyes in +the seraglio can make the son of Darius play the fool. There is nothing +more dangerous than women. It will take all your courage to master them. A +hard task lies before you. I have given you one wife, but you know our +good Persian custom--five, ten, or twenty. Take the score, I order you. +Then in twelve years you'll be receiving the prize a Persian king bestows +every summer on the father of the most children!" + +And following this broad hint, the king held his sides with laughter +again, a mirth which it is needless to say was echoed and reechoed till it +seemed it could not cease. Only a few ventured to mutter under breath: +"The Hellene will have a subsatrapy in the East before the season is over +and a treasure of five thousand talents! Mithra wither the upstart!" + + * * * * * * * + +The summer was waning when the host moved southward from Larissa, for mere +numbers had made progress slow, and despite Mardonius's providence the +question of commissariat sometimes became difficult. Now at last, leaving +behind Thrace and Macedonia, the army began to enter Greece itself. As it +fared across the teeming plains of Thessaly, it met only welcome from the +inhabitants and submissions from fresh embassies. Report came from the +fleet--keeping pace with the land army along the coasts--that nowhere had +the weak squadrons of the Greeks adventured a stand. Daily the smile of +the Lord of the World grew more complacent, as his "table-companions" told +him: "The rumour of your Eternity's advent stupefies the miserable +Hellenes. Like Atar, the Angel of Fire, your splendour glitters afar. You +will enter Athens and Sparta, and no sword leave its sheath, no bow its +wrapper." + +Every day Mardonius asked of Glaucon, "Will your Hellenes fight?" and the +answer was ever more doubting, "I do not know." + +Long since Glaucon had given up hope of the defeat of the Persian. Now he +prayed devoutly there might be no useless shedding of blood. If only he +could turn back and not behold the humiliation of Athens! Of the fate of +the old-time friends--Democrates, Cimon, Hermione--he tried not to think. No +doubt Hermione was the wife of Democrates. More than a year had sped since +the flight from Colonus. Hermione had put off her mourning for the yellow +veil of a bride. Glaucon prayed the war might bring her no new sorrow, +though Democrates, of course, would resist Persia to the end. As for +himself he would never darken their eyes again. He was betrothed to +Roxana. With her he would seek one of those valleys in Bactria which she +had praised, the remoter the better, and there perhaps was peace. + +Thus the host wound through Thessaly, till before them rose, peak on peak, +the jagged mountain wall of Othrys and OEta, fading away in violet +distance, the bulwark of central Hellas. Then the king's smile became a +frown, for the Hellenes, undismayed despite his might, were assembling +their fleet at northern Euboea, and at the same time a tempest had +shattered a large part of the royal navy. The Magi offered sacrifice to +appease Tishtrya, the Prince of the Wind-ruling Stars, but the king's +frown grew blacker at each message. Glaucon was near him when at last the +monarch's thunders broke forth. + +A hot, sultry day. The king's chariot had just crossed the mountain stream +of the Sphercus, when a captain of a hundred came galloping, dismounted, +and prostrated himself in the dust. + +"Your tidings?" demanded Xerxes, sharply. + +"Be gracious, Fountain of Mercy,"--the captain evidently disliked his +mission,--"I am sent from the van. We came to a place where the mountains +thrust down upon the sea and leave but a narrow road by the ocean. Your +slaves found certain Hellenes, rebels against your benignant government, +holding a wall and barring all passage to your army." + +"And did you not forthwith seize these impudent wretches and drag them +hither to be judged by me?" + +"Compassion, Omnipotence,"--the messenger trembled,--"they seemed sturdy, +well-armed rogues, and the way was narrow and steep where a score can face +a thousand. Therefore, your slave came straight with his tidings to the +ever gracious king." + +"Dog! Coward!" Xerxes plucked the whip from the charioteer's hand and +lashed it over the wretch's shoulders. "By the _fravashi_, the soul of +Darius my father, no man shall bring so foul a word to me and live!" + +"Compassion, Omnipotence, compassion!" groaned the man, writhing like a +worm. Already the master-of-punishments was approaching to cover his face +with a towel, preparatory to the bow-string, but the royal anger spent +itself just enough to avert a tragedy. + +"Your life is forfeit, but I am all too merciful! Take then three hundred +stripes on the soles of your feet and live to be braver in the future." + +"A thousand blessings on your benignity," cried the captain, as they led +him away, "I congratulate myself that insignificant as I am the king yet +deigns to notice my existence even to recompense my shortcomings." + +"Off," ordered the bristling monarch, "or you die the death yet. And do +you, Mardonius, take Prexaspes, who somewhat knows this country, spur +forward, and discover who are the madmen thus earning their destruction." + +The command was obeyed. Glaucon galloped beside the Prince, overtaking the +marching army, until as they cantered into the little mud-walled city of +Heraclea a second messenger from the van met them with further details. + +"The pass is held by seven thousand Grecian men-at-arms. There are no +Athenians. There are three hundred come from Sparta." + +"And their chief?" asked Glaucon, leaning eagerly. + +"Is Leonidas of Lacedaemon." + +"Then, O Mardonius," spoke the Athenian, with a throb in his voice not +there an hour ago. "There will be battle." + +So, whether wise men or mad, the Hellenes were not to lay down their arms +without one struggle, and Glaucon knew not whether to be sorry or to be +proud. + + + + + CHAPTER XX + + + THERMOPYLAE + + +A rugged mountain, an inaccessible morass, and beyond that morass the sea: +the mountain thrusting so close upon the morass as barely to leave space +for a narrow wagon road. This was the western gate of Thermopylae. Behind +the narrow defile the mountain and swamp-land drew asunder; in the still +scanty opening hot springs gushed forth, sacred to Heracles, then again on +the eastern side Mt. OEta and the impenetrable swamp drew together, forming +the second of the "Hot Gates,"--the gates which Xerxes must unlock if he +would continue his march to Athens. + +The Great King's couriers reported that the stubborn Hellenes had cast a +wall across the entrance, and that so far from showing terror at the +advent of majesty, were carelessly diverting themselves by athletic games, +and by combing and adorning their hair, a fact which the "Lord Prexaspes" +at least comprehended to mean that Leonidas and his Spartans were +preparing for desperate battle. Nevertheless, it was hard to persuade the +king that at last he confronted men who would resist him to his face. +Glaucon said it. Demaratus, the outlawed Spartan, said it. Xerxes, +however, remained angry and incredulous. Four long days he and his army +sat before the pass, "because," announced his couriers, "he wishes in his +benignity to give these madmen a chance to flee away and shun +destruction;" "because," spoke those nearest to Mardonius, the brain of +the army, "there is hot fighting ahead, and the general is resolved to +bring up the picked troops in the rear before risking a battle." + +Then on the fifth day either Xerxes's patience was exhausted or Mardonius +felt ready. Strong regiments of Median infantry were ordered to charge +Leonidas's position, Xerxes not failing to command that they slay as few +of the wretches as possible, but drag them prisoners before his outraged +presence. + +A noble charge. A terrible repulse. For the first time those Asiatics who +had forgotten Marathon discovered the overwhelming superiority that the +sheathing of heavy armour gave the Greek hoplites over the lighter armed +Median spearmen. The short lances and wooden targets of the attackers were +pitifully futile against the long spears and brazen shields of the +Hellenes. In the narrow pass the vast numbers of Barbarians went for +nothing. They could not use their archers, they could not charge with +their magnificent cavalry. The dead lay in heaps. The Medes attacked again +and again. At last an end came to their courage. The captains laid the +lash over their mutinous troops. The men bore the whips in sullen silence. +They would not charge again upon those devouring spears. + +White with anger, Xerxes turned to Hydarnes and his "Immortals," the +infantry of the Life Guard. The general needed no second bidding. The +charge was driven home with magnificent spirit. But what the vassal Medes +could not accomplish, neither could the lordly Persians. The repulse was +bloody. If once Leonidas's line broke and the Persians rushed on with +howls of triumph, it was only to see the Hellenes' files close in a +twinkling and return to the onset with their foes in confusion. Hydarnes +led back his men at last. The king sat on the ivory throne just out of +arrow shot, watching the ebb and flow of the battle. Hydarnes approached +and prostrated himself. + +"Omnipotence, I the least of your slaves put my life at your bidding. +Command that I forfeit my head, but my men can do no more. I have lost +hundreds. The pass is not to be stormed." + +Only the murmur of assent from all the well-tried generals about the +throne saved Hydarnes from paying the last penalty. The king's rage was +fearful; men trembled to look on him. His words came so thick, the rest +could never follow all his curses and commands. Only Mardonius was bold +enough to stand up before his face. + +"Your Eternity, this is an unlucky day. Is it not sacred to Angra-Mainyu +the Evil? The arch-Magian says the holy fire gives forth sparks of +ill-omen. Wait, then, till to-morrow. Verethraghna, the Angel of Victory, +will then return to your servants." + +The bow-bearer led his trembling master to the royal tent, and naught more +of Xerxes was seen till the morning. All that night Mardonius never slept, +but went unceasingly the round of the host preparing for battle. Glaucon +saw little of him. The Athenian himself had been posted among the guard of +nobles directly about the person of the king, and he was glad he was set +nowhere else, otherwise he might have been ordered to join in the attack. +Like every other in the host, he slept under arms, and never returned to +Mardonius's pavilion. His heart had been in his eyes all that day. He had +believed Leonidas would be swept from the pass at the first onset. Even he +had underrated the Spartan prowess. The repulse of the Medes had +astonished him. When Hydarnes reeled back, he could hardly conceal his +joy. The Hellenes were fighting! The Hellenes were conquering! He forgot +he stood almost at Xerxes's side when the last charge failed; and barely +in time did he save himself from joining in the shout of triumph raised by +the defenders when the decimated Immortals slunk away. He had grown +intensely proud of his countrymen, and when he heard the startled Persian +lords muttering dark forbodings of the morrow, he all but laughed his +gladness in their faces. + +So the night passed for him: the hard earth for a bed, a water cruse +wrapped in a cloak for a pillow. And just as the first red blush stole +over the green Malian bay and the mist-hung hills of Euboea beyond, he woke +with all the army. Mardonius had used the night well. Chosen contingents +from every corps were ready. Cavalrymen had been dismounted. Heavy masses +of Assyrian archers and Arabian slingers were advanced to prepare for the +attack by overwhelming volleys. The Persian noblemen, stung to madness by +their king's reproaches and their own sense of shame, bound themselves by +fearful oaths never to draw from the onset until victorious or dead. The +attack itself was led by princes of the blood, royal half-brothers of the +king. Xerxes sat again on the ivory throne, assured by every obsequious +tongue that the sacred fire gave fair omens, that to-day was the day of +victory. + +The attack was magnificent. For an instant its fury seemed to carry the +Hellenes back. Where a Persian fell two stepped over him. The defenders +were swept against their wall. The Barbarians appeared to be storming it. +Then like the tide the battle turned. The hoplites, locking shields, +presented an impenetrable spear hedge. The charge spent itself in empty +promise. Mardonius, who had been in the thickest, nevertheless drew off +his men skilfully and prepared to renew the combat. + +In the interval Glaucon, standing by the king, could see a short, firm +figure in black armour going in and out among the Hellenes, ordering their +array--Leonidas--he needed no bird to tell him. And as the Athenian stood +and watched, saw the Persians mass their files for another battering +charge, saw the Great King twist his beard whilst his gleaming eyes +followed the fate of his army, an impulse nigh irresistible came over him +to run one short bow-shot to that opposite array, and cry in his own Greek +tongue:-- + +"I am a Hellene, too! Look on me come to join you, to live and die with +you, with my face against the Barbarian!" + +Cruel the fate that set him here, impotent, when on that band of +countrymen Queen Nike was shedding bright glory! + +But he was "Glaucon the Traitor" still, to be awarded the traitor's doom +by Leonidas. Therefore the "Lord Prexaspes" must stand at his post, +guarding the king of the Aryans. + +The second charge was as the first, the third was as the second. Mardonius +was full of recourses. By repeated attacks he strove to wear the stubborn +Hellenes down. The Persians proved their courage seven times. Ten of them +died gladly, if their deaths bought that of a single foe. But few as were +Leonidas's numbers, they were not so few as to fail to relieve one another +at the front of the press,--which front was fearfully narrow. And three +times, as his men drifted back in defeat, Xerxes the king "leaped from the +throne whereon he sat, in anguish for his army." + +At noon new contingents from the rear took the place of the exhausted +attackers. The sun beat down with unpitying heat. The wounded lay +sweltering in their agony whilst the battle roared over them. Mardonius +never stopped to count his dead. Then at last came nightfall. Man could do +no more. As the shadows from OEta grew long over the close scene of combat, +even the proudest Persians turned away. They had lost thousands. Their +defeat was absolute. Before them and to westward and far away ranged the +jagged mountains, report had it, unthreaded by a single pass. To the +eastward was only the sea,--the sea closed to them by the Greek fleet at +the unseen haven of Artemisium. Was the triumph march of the Lord of the +World to end in this? + +Xerxes spoke no word when they took him to his tent that night, a sign of +indescribable anger. Fear, humiliation, rage--all these seemed driving him +mad. His chamberlains and eunuchs feared to approach to take off his +golden armour. Mardonius came to the royal tent; the king, with curses he +had never hurled against the bow-bearer before, refused to see him. The +battle was ended. No one was hardy enough to talk of a fresh attack on the +morrow. Every captain had to report the loss of scores of his best. As +Glaucon rode back to Mardonius's tents, he overheard two infantry +officers:-- + +"A fearful day--the bow-bearer is likely to pay for it. I hope his Majesty +confines his anger only to him." + +"Yes--Mardonius will walk the Chinvat bridge to-morrow. The king is turning +against him. Megabyzus is the bow-bearer's enemy, and already is gone to +his Majesty to say that it is Mardonius's blunders that have brought the +army to such a plight. The king will catch at that readily." + +At the tents Glaucon found Artazostra and Roxana. They were both pale. The +news of the great defeat had been brought by a dozen messengers. Mardonius +had not arrived. He was not slain, that was certain, but Artazostra feared +the worst. The proud daughter of Darius found it hard to bear up. + +"My husband has many enemies. Hitherto the king's favour has allowed him +to mock them. But if my brother deserts him, his ruin is speedy. Ah! +Ahura-Mazda, why hast Thou suffered us to see this day?" + +Glaucon said what he could of comfort, which was little. Roxana wept +piteously; he was fain to soothe her by his caress,--something he had never +ventured before. Artazostra was on the point of calling her eunuchs and +setting forth for Xerxes's tent to plead for the life of her husband, when +suddenly Pharnuches, Mardonius's body-servant, came with news that +dispelled at least the fears of the women. + +"I am bidden to tell your Ladyships that my master has silenced the +tongues of his enemies and is restored to the king's good favor. And I am +bidden also to command the Lord Prexaspes to come to the royal tent. His +Majesty has need of him." + +Glaucon went, questioning much as to the service to be required. He did +not soon forget the scene that followed. The great pavilion was lit by a +score of resinous flambeaux. The red light shook over the green and purple +hangings, the silver plating of the tent-poles. At one end rose the golden +throne of the king; before it in a semicircle the stools of a dozen or +more princes and commanders. In the centre stood Mardonius questioning a +coarse-featured, ill-favoured fellow, who by his sheepskin dress and +leggings Glaucon instantly recognized as a peasant of this Malian country. +The king beckoned the Athenian into the midst and was clearly too eager to +stand on ceremony. + +"Your Greek is better than Mardonius's, good Prexaspes. In a matter like +this we dare not trust too many interpreters. This man speaks the rough +dialect of his country, and few can understand him. Can you interpret?" + +"I am passing familiar with the Locrian and Malian dialect, your Majesty." + +"Question this man further as to what he will do for us. We have +understood him but lamely." + +Glaucon proceeded to comply. The man, who was exceeding awkward and ill at +ease in such august company, spoke an outrageous shepherd's jargon which +even the Athenian understood with effort. But his business came out +speedily. He was Ephialtes, the son of one Eurydemus, a Malian, a +dull-witted grazier of the country, brought to Mardonius by hope of +reward. The general, partly understanding his purpose, had brought him to +the king. In brief, he was prepared, for due compensation, to lead the +Persians by an almost unknown mountain path over the ridge of OEta and to +the rear of Leonidas's position at Thermopylae, where the Hellenes, +assailed front and rear, would inevitably be destroyed. + +As Glaucon interpreted, the shout of relieved gladness from the Persian +grandees made the tent-cloths shake. Xerxes's eyes kindled. He clapped his +hands. + +"Reward? He shall have ten talents! But where? How?" + +The man asserted that the path was easy and practicable for a large body +of troops. He had often been over it with his sheep and goats. If the +Persians would start a force at once--it was already quite dark--they could +fall upon Leonidas at dawn. The Spartan would be completely trapped, or +forced to open the defile without another spear thrust. + +"A care, fellow," warned Mardonius, regarding the man sharply; "you speak +glibly, but if this is a trick to lead a band of the king's servants to +destruction, understand you play with deadly dice. If the troops march, +you shall have your hands knotted together and a soldier walking behind to +cut your throat at the first sign of treachery." + +Glaucon interpreted the threat. The man did not wince. + +"There is no trap. I will guide you." + +That was all they could get him to say. + +"And do not the Hellenes know of this mountain path and guard it?" +persisted the bow-bearer. + +Ephialtes thought not; at least if they had, they had not told off any +efficient detachment to guard it. Hydarnes cut the matter short by rising +from his stool and casting himself before the king. + +"A boon, your Eternity, a boon!" + +"What is it?" asked the monarch. + +"The Immortals have been disgraced. Twice they have been repulsed with +ignominy. The shame burns hot in their breasts. Suffer them to redeem +their honour. Suffer me to take this man and all the infantry of the Life +Guard, and at dawn the Lord of the World shall see his desire over his +miserable enemies." + +"The words of Hydarnes are good," added Mardonius, incisively, and Xerxes +beamed and nodded assent. + +"Go, scale the mountain with the Immortals and tell this Ephialtes there +await him ten talents and a girdle of honour if the thing goes well; if +ill, let him be flayed alive and his skin be made the head of a +kettledrum." + +The stolid peasant did not blench even at this. Glaucon remained in the +tent, translating and hearing all the details: how Hydarnes was to press +the attack from the rear at early dawn, how Mardonius was to conduct +another onset from the front. At last the general of the guard knelt +before the king for the last time. + +"Thus I go forth, Omnipotence, and to-morrow, behold your will upon your +enemies, or behold me never more." + +"I have faithful slaves," said Xerxes, rising and smiling benignantly upon +the general and the bow-bearer. "Let us disperse, but first let command be +given the Magians to cry all night to Mithra and Tishtrya, and to +sacrifice to them a white horse." + +"Your Majesty always enlists the blessings of heaven for your servants," +bowed Mardonius, as the company broke up and the king went away to his +inner tent and his concubines. Glaucon lingered until most of the grandees +had gone forth, then the bow-bearer went to him. + +"Go back to my tents," ordered Mardonius; "tell Artazostra and Roxana that +all is well, that Ahura has delivered me from a great strait and restored +me to the king's favour, and that to-morrow the gate of Hellas will be +opened." + +"You are still bloody and dusty. You have watched all last night and been +in the thick all day," expostulated the Athenian; "come to the tents with +me and rest." + +The bow-bearer shook his head. + +"No rest until to-morrow, and then the rest of victory or a longer one. +Now go; the women are consuming with their care." + +Glaucon wandered back through the long avenues of pavilions. The lights of +innumerable camp-fires, the hum of thousands of voices, the snorting of +horses, the grumbling of camels, the groans of men wounded--all these and +all other sights and sounds from the countless host were lost to him. He +walked on by a kind of animal instinct that took him to Mardonius's +encampment through the mazes of the canvas city. It was dawning on him +with a terrible clearness that he was become a traitor to Hellas in very +deed. It was one thing to be a passive onlooker of a battle, another to be +a participant in a plot for the ruin of Leonidas. Unless warned betimes +the Spartan king and all who followed him infallibly would be captured or +slaughtered to a man. And he had heard all--the traitor, the discussion, +the design--had even, if without his choice, been partner and helper in the +same. The blood of Leonidas and his men would be on his head. Every curse +the Athenians had heaped on him once unjustly, he would deserve. Now truly +he would be, even in his own mind's eyes, "Glaucon the Traitor, partner to +the betrayal of Thermopylae." The doltish peasant, lured by the great +reward, he might forgive,--himself, the high-born Alcmaeonid, never. + +From this revery he was shaken by finding himself at the entrance to the +tents of Mardonius. Artazostra and Roxana came to meet him. When he told +of the deliverance of the bow-bearer, he had joy by the light in their +eyes. Roxana had never shone in greater beauty. He spoke of the heat of +the sun, of his throbbing head. The women bathed his forehead with +lavender-water, touching him with their own soft hands. Roxana sang again +to him, a low, crooning song of the fragrant Nile, the lotus bells, the +nodding palms, the perfumed breeze from the desert. Whilst he watched her +through half-closed eyes, the visions of that day of battles left him. He +sat wrapped in a dream world, far from stern realities of men and arms. So +for a while, as he lounged on the divans, following the play of the +torch-light on the face of Roxana as her long fingers plied the strings. +What was it to him if Leonidas fought a losing battle? Was not his +happiness secure--be it in Hellas, or Egypt, or Bactria? He tried to +persuade himself thus. At the end, when he and Roxana stood face to face +for the parting, he violated all Oriental custom, yet he knew her brother +would not be angry. He took her in his arms and gave her kiss for kiss. + +Then he went to his own tent to seek rest. But Hypnos did not come for a +long time with his poppies. Once out of the Egyptian's presence the +haunting terror had returned, "Glaucon the Traitor!" Those three words +were always uppermost. At last, indeed, sleep came and as he slept he +dreamed. + + + + + CHAPTER XXI + + + THE THREE HUNDRED--AND ONE + + +As Glaucon slept he found himself again in Athens. He was on the familiar +way from the cool wrestling ground of the Academy and walking toward the +city through the suburb of Ceramicus. Just as he came to the three tall +pine trees before the gate, after he had passed the tomb of Solon, behold! +a fair woman stood in the path and looked on him. She was beyond mortal +height and of divine beauty, yet a beauty grave and stern. Her gray eyes +cut to his heart like swords. On her right hand hovered a winged Victory, +on her shoulder rested an owl, at her feet twined a wise serpent, in her +left hand she bore the aegis, the shaggy goat-skin engirt with +snakes--emblem of Zeus's lightnings. Glaucon knew that she was Athena +Polias, the Warder of Athens, and lifted his hands to adore her. But she +only looked on him in silent anger. Fire seemed leaping from her eyes. The +more Glaucon besought, the more she turned away. Fear possessed him. "Woe +is me," he trembled, "I have enraged a terrible immortal." Then suddenly +the woman's countenance was changed. The aegis, the serpent, the Victory, +all vanished; he saw Hermione before him, beautiful as on the day she ran +to greet him at Eleusis, yet sad as was his last sight of her the moment +he fled from Colonus. Seized with infinite longing, he sprang to her. But +lo! she drifted back as into the air. It was even as when Odysseus +followed the shade of his mother in the shadowy Land of the Dead. + + "Yearned he sorely then to clasp her, + Thrice his arms were opened wide: + From his hands so strong, so loving, + Like a dream she seemed to glide, + And away, away she flitted, + Whilst he grasped the empty space, + And a pain shot through him, maddening, + As he strove for her embrace." + +He pursued, she drifted farther, farther. Her face was inexpressibly +sorrowful. And Glaucon knew that she spoke to him. + +"I have believed you innocent, though all Athens calls you 'traitor.' I +have been true to you, though all men rise up against me. In what manner +have you kept your innocence? Have you had love for another, caresses for +another, kisses for another? How will you prove your loyalty to Athens and +return?" + +"Hermione!" Glaucon cried, not in his dream, but quite aloud. He awoke +with a start. Outside the tent sentry was calling to sentry, changing the +watch just before the dawning. It was perfectly plain to him what he must +do. His dream had only given shape to the ferment in his brain, a ferment +never ceasing while his body slept. He must go instantly to the Greek camp +and warn Leonidas. If the Spartan did not trust him, no matter, he had +done his duty. If Leonidas slew him on the spot, again no matter, life +with an eternally gnawing conscience could be bought on too hard terms. He +knew, as though Zeus's messenger Iris had spoken it, that Hermione had +never believed him guilty, that she had been in all things true to him. He +could never betray her trust. + +His head now was clear and calm. He arose, threw on his cloak, and buckled +about his waist a short sword. The Nubian boy that Mardonius had given him +for a body-servant awoke on his mat, and asked wonderingly "whither his +Lordship was going?" Glaucon informed him he must be at the front before +daybreak, and bade him remain behind and disturb no one. But the Athenian +was not to execute his design unhindered. As he passed out of the tent and +into the night, where the morning stars were burning, and where the first +red was creeping upward from the sea, two figures glided forth from the +next pavilion. He knew them and shrank from them. They were Artazostra and +Roxana. + +"You go forth early, dearest Prexaspes," spoke the Egyptian, throwing back +her veil, and even in the starlight he saw the anxious flash of her eyes, +"does the battle join so soon that you take so little sleep?" + +"It joins early, lady," spoke Glaucon, his wits wandering. In the +intensity of his purpose he had not thought of the partings with the +people he must henceforth reckon foes. He was sorely beset, when Roxana +drew near and laid her hand upon his shoulder. + +"Your Greeks will resist terribly," she spoke. "We women dread the battle +more than you. Yours is the fierce gladness of the combat, ours only the +waiting, the heavy tidings, the sorrow. Therefore Artazostra and I could +not sleep, but have been watching together. You will of course be near +Mardonius my brother. You will guard him from all danger. Leonidas will +resist fearfully when at bay. Ah! what is this?" + +In pressing closer she had discovered the Athenian wore no cuirass. + +"You will not risk the battle without armour?" was her cry. + +"I shall not need it, lady," answered he, and only half conscious what he +did, stretched forth as if to put her away. Roxana shrank back, grieved +and wondering, but Artazostra seized his arm quickly. + +"What is this, Prexaspes? All is not well. Your manner is strange!" + +He shook her off, almost savagely. + +"Call me not Prexaspes," he cried, not in Persian, but in Greek. "I am +Glaucon of Athens; as Glaucon I must live, as Glaucon die. No man--not +though he desire it--can disown the land that bore him. And if I dreamed I +was a Persian, I wake to find myself a Greek. Therefore forget me forever. +I go to my own!" + +"Prexaspes, my lover,"--Roxana, strong in fear and passion, clung about his +girdle, while again Artazostra seized him,--"last night I was in your arms. +Last night you kissed me. Are we not to be happy together? What is this +you say?" + +He stood one instant silent, then shook himself and put them both aside +with a marvellous ease. + +"Forget my name," he commanded. "If I have given you sorrow, I repent it. +I go to my own. Go you to yours. My place is with Leonidas--to save him, or +more like to die with him! Farewell!" + +He sprang away from them. He saw Roxana sink upon the ground. He heard +Artazostra calling to the horse-boys and the eunuchs,--perhaps she bade +them to pursue. Once he looked back, but never twice. He knew the +watchwords, and all the sentries let him pass by freely. With a feverish +stride he traced the avenues of sleeping tents. Soon he was at the +outposts, where strong divisions of Cissian and Babylonian infantrymen +were slumbering under arms, ready for the attack the instant the uproar +from the rear of the pass told how Hydarnes had completed his circuit. +Eos--"Rosy-Fingered Dawn"--was just shimmering above the mist-hung peak of +Mt. Telethrius in Euboea across the bay when Glaucon came to the last +Persian outpost. The pickets saluted with their lances, as he went by +them, taking him for a high officer on a reconnoissance before the onset. +Next he was on the scene of the former battles. He stumbled over riven +shields, shattered spear butts, and many times over ghastlier +objects--objects yielding and still warm--dead men, awaiting the crows of +the morrow. He walked straight on, while the dawn strengthened and the +narrow pass sprang into view, betwixt mountain and morass. Then at last a +challenge, not in Persian, but in round clear Doric. + +"Halt! Who passes?" + +Glaucon held up his right hand, and advanced cautiously. Two men in heavy +armour approached, and threatened his breast with their lance points. + +"Who are you?" + +"A friend, a Hellene--my speech tells that. Take me to Leonidas. I've a +story worth telling." + +"_Euge!_ Master 'Friend,' our general can't be waked for every deserter. +We'll call our decarch." + +A shout brought the subaltern commanding the Greek outposts. He was a +Spartan of less sluggish wits than many of his breed, and presently +believed Glaucon when he declared he had reason in asking for Leonidas. + +"But your accent is Athenian?" asked the decarch, with wonderment. + +"Ay, Athenian," assented Glaucon. + +"Curses on you! I thought no Athenian ever Medized. What business had +_you_ in the Persian camp? Who of your countrymen are there save the sons +of Hippias?" + +"Not many," rejoined the fugitive, not anxious to have the questions +pushed home. + +"Well, to Leonidas you shall go, sir Athenian, and state your business. +But you are like to get a bearish welcome. Since your pretty Glaucon's +treason, our king has not wasted much love even on repentant traitors." + +With a soldier on either side, the deserter was marched within the barrier +wall. Another encampment, vastly smaller and less luxurious than the +Persian, but of martial orderliness, spread out along the pass. The +Hellenes were just waking. Some were breakfasting from helmets full of +cold boiled peas, others buckled on the well-dinted bronze cuirasses and +greaves. Men stared at Glaucon as he was led by them. + +"A deserter they take to the chief," ran the whisper, and a little knot of +idle Spartans trailed behind, when at last Glaucon's guides halted him +before a brown tent barely larger than the others. + +A man sat on a camp chest by the entrance, and was busy with an iron spoon +eating "black broth"(9) from a huge kettle. In the dim light Glaucon could +just see that he wore a purple cloak flung over his black armour, and that +the helmet resting beside him was girt by a wreath of gold foil. + +The two guards dropped their spears in salute. The man looked upward. + +"A deserter," reported one of Glaucon's mentors; "he says he has important +news." + +"Wait!" ordered the general, making the iron spoon clack steadily. + +"The weal of Hellas rests thereon. Listen!" pleaded the nervous Athenian. + +"Wait!" was the unruffled answer, and still the iron spoon went on plying. +The Spartan lifted a huge morsel from the pot, chewed it deliberately, +then put the vessel by. Next he inspected the newcomer from head to toe, +then at last gave his permission. + +"Well?" + +Glaucon's words were like a bursting torrent. + +"Fly, your Excellency! I'm from Xerxes's camp. I was at the Persian +council. The mountain path is betrayed. Hydarnes and the guard are almost +over it. They will fall upon your rear. Fly, or you and all your men are +trapped!" + +"Well," observed the Spartan, slowly, motioning for the deserter to cease, +but Glaucon's fears made that impossible. + +"I say I was in Xerxes's own tent. I was interpreter betwixt the king and +the traitor. I know all whereof I say. If you do not flee instantly, the +blood of these men is on your head." + +Leonidas again scanned the deserter with piercing scrutiny, then flung a +question. + +"Who are you?" + +The blood leaped into the Athenian's cheeks. The tongue that had wagged so +nimbly clove in his mouth. He grew silent. + +"Who are you?" + +As the question was repeated, the scrutiny grew yet closer. The soldiers +were pressing around, one comrade leaning over another's shoulder. Twenty +saw the fugitive's form straighten as he stood in the morning twilight. + +"I am Glaucon of Athens, Isthmionices!" + +"Ah!" Leonidas's jaw dropped for an instant. He showed no other +astonishment, but the listening Spartans raised a yell. + +"Death! Stone the traitor!" + +Leonidas, without a word, smote the man nearest to him with a spear butt. +The soldiers were silent instantly. Then the chief turned back to the +deserter. + +"Why here?" + +Glaucon had never prayed for the gifts of Peitho, "Our Lady Persuasion," +more than at that crucial moment. Arguments, supplications, protestations +of innocence, curses upon his unknown enemies, rushed to his lips +together. He hardly realized what he himself said. Only he knew that at +the end the soldiers did not tug at their hilts as before and scowl so +threateningly, and Leonidas at last lifted his hand as if to bid him +cease. + +"_Euge!_" grunted the chief. "So you wish me to believe you a victim of +fate, and trust your story? The pass is turned, you say? Masistes the seer +said the libation sputtered on the flame with ill-omen when he sacrificed +this morning. Then you come. The thing shall be looked into. Call the +captains." + + * * * * * * * + +The locharchs and taxiarchs of the Greeks assembled. It was a brief and +gloomy council of war. While Euboulus, commanding the Corinthian +contingent, was still questioning whether the deserter was worthy of +credence, a scout came running down Mt. OEta confirming the worst. The +cowardly Phocians watching the mountain trail had fled at the first arrows +of Hydarnes. It was merely a question of time before the Immortals would +be at Alpeni, the village in Leonidas's rear. There was only one thing to +say, and the Spartan chief said it. + +"You must retreat." + +The taxiarchs of the allied Hellenes under him were already rushing forth +to their men to bid them fly for dear life. Only one or two stayed by the +tent, marvelling much to observe that Leonidas gave no orders to his +Lacedaemonians to join in the flight. On the contrary, Glaucon, as he stood +near, saw the general lift the discarded pot of broth and explore it again +with the iron spoon. + +"O Father Zeus," cried the incredulous Corinthian leader. "Are you turned +mad, Leonidas?" + +"Time enough for all things," returned the unmoved Spartan, continuing his +breakfast. + +"Time!" shouted Euboulus. "Have we not to flee on wings, or be cut off?" + +"Fly, then." + +"But you and your Spartans?" + +"We will stay." + +"Stay? A handful against a million? Do I hear aright? What can you do?" + +"Die." + +"The gods forbid! Suicide is a fearful end. No man should rush on +destruction. What requires you to perish?" + +"Honour." + +"Honour! Have you not won glory enough by holding Xerxes's whole power at +bay two days? Is not your life precious to Hellas? What is the gain?" + +"Glory to Sparta." + +Then in the red morning half-light, folding his big hands across his +mailed chest, Leonidas looked from one to another of the little circle. +His voice was still in unemotional gutturals when he delivered the longest +speech of his life. + +"We of Sparta were ordered to defend this pass. The order shall be obeyed. +The rest of you must go away--all save the Thebans, whose loyalty I +distrust. Tell Leotychides, my colleague at Sparta, to care for Gorgo my +wife and Pleistarchus my young son, and to remember that Themistocles the +Athenian loves Hellas and gives sage counsel. Pay Strophius of Epidaurus +the three hundred drachmae I owe him for my horse. Likewise--" + +A second breathless scout interrupted with the tidings that Hydarnes was +on the last stretches of his road. The chief arose, drew the helmet down +across his face, and motioned with his spear. + +"Go!" he ordered. + +The Corinthian would have seized his hand. He shook him off. At Leonidas's +elbow was standing the trumpeter for his three hundred from Lacedaemon. + +"Blow!" commanded the chief. + +The keen blast cut the air. The chief deliberately wrapped the purple +mantle around himself and adjusted the gold circlet over his helmet, for +on the day of battle a Lacedaemonian was wont to wear his best. And even as +he waited there came to him out of the midst of the panic-stricken, +dissolving camp, one by one, tall men in armour, who took station beside +him--the men of Sparta who had abided steadfast while all others prepared +to flee, waiting for the word of the chief. + +Presently they stood, a long black line, motionless, silent, whilst the +other divisions filed in swift fear past. Only the Thespians--let their +names not be forgotten--chose to share the Laconians' glory and their doom +and took their stand behind the line of Leonidas. With them stood also the +Thebans, but compulsion held them, and they tarried merely to desert and +pawn their honour for their lives. + +More couriers. Hydarnes's van was in sight of Alpeni now. The retreat of +the Corinthians, Tegeans, and other Hellenes became a run; only once +Euboulus and his fellow-captains turned to the silent warrior that stood +leaning on his spear. + +"Are you resolved on madness, Leonidas?" + +"_Chaire!_ Farewell!" was the only answer he gave them. Euboulus sought no +more, but faced another figure, hitherto almost forgotten in the confusion +of the retreat. + +"Haste, Master Deserter, the Barbarians will give you an overwarm welcome, +and you are no Spartan; save yourself!" + +Glaucon did not stir. + +"Do you not see that it is impossible?" he answered, then strode across to +Leonidas. "I must stay." + +"Are you also mad? You are young--" The good-hearted Corinthian strove to +drag him into the retreating mob. + +Glaucon sprang away from him and addressed the silent general. + +"Shall not Athens remain by Sparta, if Sparta will accept?" + +He could see Leonidas's cold eyes gleam out through the slits in his +helmet. The general reached forth his hand. + +"Sparta accepts," called he; "they have lied concerning your Medizing! And +you, Euboulus, do not filch from him his glory." + +"Zeus pity you!" cried Euboulus, running at last. One of the Spartans +brought to Glaucon the heavy hoplite's armour and the ponderous spear and +shield. He took his place in the line with the others. Leonidas stalked to +the right wing of his scant array, the post of honour and of danger. The +Thespians closed up behind. Shield was set to shield. Helmets were drawn +low. The lance points projected in a bristling hedge in front. All was +ready. + +The general made no speech to fire his men. There was no wailing, no +crying to the gods, no curses upon the tardy ephors at Lacedaemon who had +deferred sending their whole strong levy instead of the pitiful three +hundred. Sparta had sent this band to hold the pass. They had gone, +knowing she might require the supreme sacrifice. Leonidas had spoken for +all his men. "Sparta demanded it." What more was to be said? + +As for Glaucon he could think of nothing save--in the language of his +people--"this was a beautiful manner and place in which to die." "Count no +man happy until he meets a happy end," so had said Solon, and of all ends +what could be more fortunate than this? Euboulus would tell in Athens, in +all Hellas, how he had remained with Leonidas and maintained Athenian +honour when Corinthian and Tegean turned away. From "Glaucon the Traitor" +he would be raised to "Glaucon the Hero." Hermione, Democrates, and all +others he loved would flush with pride and no more with shame when men +spoke of him. Could a life of a hundred years add to his glory more than +he could win this day? + +"Blow!" commanded Leonidas again, and again pealed the trumpet. The line +moved beyond the wall toward Xerxes's camp in the open beside the Asopus. +Why wait for Hydarnes's coming? They would meet the king of the Aryans +face to face and show him the terrible manner in which the men of +Lacedaemon knew how to die. + +As they passed from the shadow of the mountain, the sun sprang over the +hills of Euboea, making fire of the bay and bathing earth and heavens with +glory. In their rear was already shouting. Hydarnes had reached his goal +at Alpeni. All retreat was ended. The thin line swept onward. Before them +spread the whole host of the Barbarian as far as the eye could reach,--a +tossing sea of golden shields, scarlet surcoats, silver +lance-heads,--awaiting with its human billows to engulf them. The Laconians +halted just beyond bow shot. The line locked tighter. Instinctively every +man pressed closer to his comrade. Then before the eyes of Xerxes's host, +which kept silence, marvelling, the handful broke forth with their paean. +They threw their well-loved charging song of Tyrtaeus in the very face of +the king. + + "Press the charge, O sons of Sparta! + Ye are sons of men born free: + Press the charge; 'tis where the shields lock, + That your sires would have you be! + Honour's cheaply sold for life, + Press the charge, and join the strife: + Let the coward cling to breath, + Let the base shrink back from death, + _Press the charge, let cravens flee!_" + +Leonidas's spear pointed to the ivory throne, around which and him that +sat thereon in blue and scarlet glittered the Persian grandees. + +"Onward!" + +Immortal ichor seemed in the veins of every Greek. They burst into one +shout. + +"The king! The king!" + +A roar from countless drums, horns, and atabals answered from the +Barbarians, as across the narrow plain-land charged the three hundred--and +one. + + + + + CHAPTER XXII + + + MARDONIUS GIVES A PROMISE + + +"Ugh--the dogs died hard, but they are dead," grunted Xerxes, still +shivering on the ivory throne. The battle had raged disagreeably close to +him. + +"They are dead; even so perish all of your Eternity's enemies," rejoined +Mardonius, close by. The bow-bearer himself was covered with blood and +dust. A Spartan sword had grazed his forehead. He had exposed himself +recklessly, as well he might, for it had taken all the efforts of the +Persian captains, as well as the ruthless laying of whips over the backs +of their men, to make the king's battalions face the frenzied Hellenes, +until the closing in of Hydarnes from the rear gave the battle its +inevitable ending. + +Xerxes was victorious. The gate of Hellas was unlocked. The mountain wall +of OEta would hinder him no more. But the triumph had been bought with a +price which made Mardonius and every other general in the king's host +shake his head. + +"Lord," reported Hystaspes, commander of the Scythians, "one man in every +seven of my band is slain, and those the bravest." + +"Lord," spoke Artabazus, who led the Parthians, "my men swear the Hellenes +were possessed by _daevas_. They dare not approach even their dead bodies." + +"Lord," asked Hydarnes, "will it please your Eternity to appoint five +other officers in the Life Guard, for of my ten lieutenants over the +Immortals five are slain?" + +But the heaviest news no man save Mardonius dared to bring to the king. + +"May it please your Omnipotence," spoke the bow-bearer, "to order the +funeral pyres of cedar and precious oils to be prepared for your brothers +Abrocomes and Hyperanthes, and command the Magians to offer prayers for +the repose of their _fravashis_ in Garonmana the Blessed, for it pleased +Mazda the Great they should fall before the Hellenes." + +Xerxes waved his hand in assent. It was hard to be the "Lord of the +World," and be troubled by such little things as the deaths of a few +thousand servants, or even of two of his numerous half-brethren, hard at +least on a day like this when he had seen his desire over his enemies. + +"They shall be well avenged," he announced with kingly dignity, then +smiled with satisfaction when they brought him the shield and helmet of +Leonidas, the madman, who had dared to contemn his power. But all the +generals who stood by were grim and sad. One more such victory would bring +the army close to destruction. + +Xerxes's happiness, however, was not to be clouded. From childish fears he +had passed to childish exultation. + +"Have you found the body also of this crazed Spartan?" he inquired of the +cavalry officer who had brought the trophies. + +"As you say, Omnipotence," rejoined the captain, bowing in the saddle. + +"Good, then. Let the head be struck off and the trunk fastened on a cross +that all may see it. And you, Mardonius," addressing the bow-bearer, "ride +back to the hillock where these madmen made their last stand. If you +discover among the corpses any who yet breathe, bring them hither to me, +that they may learn the futility of resisting my might." + +The bow-bearer shrugged his shoulders. He loved a fair battle and fair +treatment of valiant foes. The dishonouring of the corpse of Leonidas was +displeasing to more than one high-minded Aryan nobleman. But the king had +spoken, and was to be obeyed. Mardonius rode back to the hillock at the +mouth of the pass, where the Hellenes had retired--after their spears were +broken and they could resist only with swords, stones, or naked hands--for +the final death grip. + +The slain Barbarians lay in heaps. The Greeks had been crushed at the end, +not in close strife, but by showers of arrows. Mardonius dismounted and +went with a few followers among the dead. Plunderers were already at their +harpy work of stripping the slain. The bow-bearer chased them angrily +away. He oversaw the task which his attendants performed as quickly as +possible. Their toil was not quite fruitless. Three or four Thespians were +still breathing, a few more of the helots who had attended Leonidas's +Spartans, but not one of the three hundred but seemed dead, and that too +with many wounds. + +Snofru, Mardonius's Egyptian body-servant, rose from the ghastly work and +grinned with his ivories at his master. + +"All the rest are slain, Excellency." + +"You have not searched that pile yonder." + +Snofru and his helpers resumed their toil. Presently the Egyptian dragged +from a bloody heap a body, and raised a yell. "Another one--he breathes!" + +"There's life in him. He shall not be left to the crows. Take him forth +and lay him with the others that are living." + +It was not easy to roll the three corpses from their feebly stirring +comrade. When this was done, the stricken man was still encased in his +cuirass and helmet. They saw only that his hands were slim and white. + +"With care," ordered the humane bow-bearer, "he is a young man. I heard +Leonidas took only older men on his desperate venture. Here, rascals, do +you not see he is smothered in that helmet? Lift him up, unbuckle the +cuirass. By Mithra, he has a strong and noble form! Now the helmet--uncover +the face." + +But as the Egyptian did so, his master uttered a shout of mingled +wonderment and terror. + +"Glaucon--Prexaspes, and in Spartan armour!" + +What had befallen Glaucon was in no wise miraculous. He had borne his part +in the battle until the Hellenes fell back to the fatal hillock. Then in +one of the fierce onsets which the Barbarians attempted before they had +recourse to the simpler and less glorious method of crushing their foes by +arrow fire, a Babylonian's war club had dashed upon his helmet. The stout +bronze had saved him from wound, but under the stroke strength and +consciousness had left him in a flash. The moment after he fell, the +soldier beside him had perished by a javelin, and falling above the +Athenian made his body a ghastly shield against the surge and trampling of +the battle. Glaucon lay scathless but senseless through the final +catastrophe. Now consciousness was returning, but he would have died of +suffocation save for Snofru's timely aid. + +It was well for the Athenian that Mardonius was a man of ready devices. He +had not seen Glaucon at his familiar post beside the king, but had +presumed the Hellene had remained at the tents with the women, unwilling +to watch the destruction of his people. In the rush and roar of the battle +the messenger Artazostra had sent her husband telling of "Prexaspes's" +flight had never reached him. But Mardonius could divine what had +happened. The swallow must fly south in the autumn. The Athenian had +returned to his own. The bow-bearer's wrath at his protege's desertion was +overmastered by the consuming fear that tidings of Prexaspes's disloyalty +would get to the king. Xerxes's wrath would be boundless. Had he not +proffered his new subject all the good things of his empire? And to be +rewarded thus! Glaucon's recompense would be to be sawn asunder or flung +into a serpent's cage. + +Fortunately Mardonius had only his own personal followers around him. He +could count on their discreet loyalty. Vouchsafing no explanations, but +bidding them say not a word of their discovery on their heads, he ordered +Snofru and his companions to make a litter of cloaks and lances, to throw +away Glaucon's tell-tale Spartan armour, and bear him speedily to +Artazostra's tents. The stricken man was groaning feebly, moving his +limbs, muttering incoherently. The sight of Xerxes driving in person to +inspect the battle-field made Mardonius hasten the litter away, while he +remained to parley with the king. + +"So only a few are alive?" asked Xerxes, leaning over the silver rail of +the chariot, and peering on the upturned faces of the dead which were +nearly trampled by his horses. "Are any sound enough to set before me?" + +"None, your Eternity; even the handful that live are desperately wounded. +We have laid them yonder." + +"Let them wait, then; all around here seem dead. Ugly hounds!" muttered +the monarch, still peering down; "even in death they seem to grit their +teeth and defy me. Faugh! The stench is already terrible. It is just as +well they are dead. Angra-Mainyu surely possessed them to fight so! It +cannot be there are many more who can fight like this left in Hellas, +though Demaratus, the Spartan outlaw, says there are. Drive away, +Pitiramphes--and you, Mardonius, ride beside me. I cannot abide those +corpses. Where is my handkerchief? The one with the Sabaean nard on it. I +will hold it to my nose. Most refreshing! And I had a question to ask--I +have forgotten what." + +"Whether news has come from the fleets before Artemisium?" spoke +Mardonius, galloping close to the wheel. + +"Not that. Ah! I remember. Where was Prexaspes? I did not see him near me. +Did he stay in the tents while these mad men were destroyed? It was not +loyal, yet I forgive him. After all, he was once a Hellene." + +"May it please your Eternity,"--Mardonius chose his words carefully,--a +Persian always loved the truth, and lies to the king were doubly +impious,--"Prexaspes was not in the tents but in the thick of the battle." + +"Ah!" Xerxes smiled pleasantly, "it was right loyal of him to show his +devotion to me thus. And he acquitted himself valiantly?" + +"Most valiantly, Omnipotence." + +"Doubly good. Yet he ought to have stayed near me. If he had been a true +Persian, he would not have withdrawn from the person of the king, even to +display his prowess in combat. Still he did well. Where is he?" + +"I regret to tell your Eternity he was desperately wounded, though your +servant hopes not unto death. He is even now being taken to my tents." + +"Where that pretty dancer, your sister, will play the surgeon--ha!" cried +the king. "Well, tell him his Lord is grateful. He shall not be forgotten. +If his wounds do not mend, call in my body-physicians. And I will send him +something in gratitude--a golden cimeter, perhaps, or it may be another +cream Nisaean charger." + +A general rode up to the chariot with his report, and Mardonius was +suffered to gallop to his own tents, blessing Mazda; he had saved the +Athenian, yet had not told a lie. + + * * * * * * * + +The ever ready eunuchs of Artazostra ran to tell Mardonius of the +Hellene's strange desertion, even before their lord dismounted. Mardonius +was not astonished now, however much the tidings pained him. The Greek had +escaped more than trifling wounds; ten days would see him sound and hale, +but the stunning blow had left his wits still wandering. He had believed +himself dead at first, and demanded why Charon took so long with his +ferry-boat. He had not recognized Roxana, but spoke one name many +times--"Hermione!" And the Egyptian, understanding too well, went to her +own tent weeping bitterly. + +"He has forsaken us," spoke Artazostra, harshly, to her husband. "He has +paid kindness with disloyalty. He has chosen the lot of his desperate race +rather than princely state amongst the Aryans. Your sister is in agony." + +"And I with her," returned the bow-bearer, gravely, "but let us not forget +one thing--this man has saved our lives. And all else weighs small in the +balance." + +When Mardonius went to him, Glaucon was again himself. He lay on bright +pillows, his forehead swathed in linen. His eyes were unnaturally bright. + +"You know what has befallen?" asked Mardonius. + +"They have told me. I almost alone of all the Hellenes have not been +called to the heroes' Elysium, to the glory of Theseus and Achilles, the +glory that shall not die. Yet I am content. For plainly the Olympians have +destined that I should see and do great things in Hellas, otherwise they +would not have kept me back from Leonidas's glory." + +The Athenian's voice rang confidently. None of the halting weakness +remained that had made it falter once when Mardonius asked him, "Will your +Hellenes fight?" He spoke as might one returned crowned with the victor's +laurel. + +"And wherefore are you grown so bold?" The bow-bearer was troubled as he +looked on him. "Nobly you and your handful fought. We Persians honour the +brave, and full honour we give to you. But was it not graven upon the +stars what should befall? Were not Leonidas, his men, and you all mad--" + +"Ah, yes! divinely mad." Brighter still grew the Athenian's eyes. "For +that moment of exultation when we charged to meet the king I would again +pay a lifetime." + +"Yet the gateway of Hellas is unlocked. Your bravest are fallen. Your land +is defenceless. What else can be written hereafter save, 'The Hellenes +strove with fierce courage to fling back Xerxes. Their valour was +foolishness. The god turned against them. The king prevailed.' " + +But Glaucon met the Persian's glance with one more bold. + +"No, Mardonius, good friend, for do not think that we must be foes one to +another because our people are at war,--I can answer you with ease. +Leonidas you have slain, and his handful, and you have pierced the +mountain wall of OEta, and no doubt your king's host will march even to +Athens. But do not dream Hellas is conquered by striding over her land. +Before you shall possess the land you must first possess the men. And I +say to you, Athens is still left, and Sparta left, free and strong, with +men whose hearts and hands can never fail. I doubted once. But now I doubt +no more. And our gods will fight for us. Your Ahura-Mazda has still to +prevail over Zeus the Thunderer and Athena of the Pure Heart." + +"And you?" asked the Persian. + +"And as for me, I know I have cast away by my own act all the good things +you and your king would fain bestow upon me. Perhaps I deserve death at +your hands. I will never plead for respite, but this I know, whether I +live or die, it shall be as Glaucon of Athens who owns no king but Zeus, +no loyalty save to the land that bore him." + +There was stillness in the tent. The wounded man sank back on the pillows, +breathing deep, closing his eyes, expectant almost of a burst of wrath +from the Persian. But Mardonius answered without trace of anger. + +"Friend, your words cut keenly, and your boasts are high. Only the Most +High knoweth whether you boast aright. Yet this I say, that much as I +desire your friendship, would see you my brother, even,--you know that,--I +dare not tell you you do wholly wrong. A man is given one country and one +manner of faith in God. He does not choose them. I was born to serve the +lord of the Aryans, and to spread the triumphs of Mithra the Glorious, and +you were born in Athens. I would it were otherwise. Artazostra and I would +fain have made you Persian like ourselves. My sister loves you. Yet we +cannot strive against fate. Will you go back to your own people and share +their lot, however direful?" + +"Since life is given me, I will." + +Mardonius stepped to the bedside and gave the Athenian his right hand. + +"At the island you saved my life and that of my best beloved. Let it never +be said that Mardonius, son of Gobryas, is ungrateful. To-day, in some +measure, I have repaid the debt I owe. If you will have it so, as speedily +as your strength returns and opportunity offers I will return you to your +people. And amongst them may your own gods show you favour, for you will +have none from ours!" + +Glaucon took the proffered hand in silent gratitude. He was still very +weak and rested on the pillows, breathing hard. The bow-bearer went out to +his wife and his sister and told his promise. There was little to be said. +The Athenian must go his path, and they go theirs, unless he were to be +handed over to Xerxes to die a death of torments. And not even Roxana, +keenly as pierced her sorrow, would think of that. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII + + + THE DARKEST HOUR + + +A city of two hundred thousand awaiting a common sentence of death,--such +seemed the doom of Athens. + +Every morning the golden majesty of the sun rose above the wall of +Hymettus, but few could lift their hands to Lord Helios and give praise +for another day of light. "Each sunrise brings Xerxes nearer." The bravest +forgot not that. + +Yet Athens was never more truly the "Violet-Crowned City" than on these +last days before the fearful advent. The sun at morn on Hymettus, the sun +at night on Daphni, the nightingales and cicadas in the olives by +Cephissus, the hum of bees on the sweet thyme of the mountain, the purple +of the hills, the blue and the fire of the bay, the merry tinkle of the +goat bells upon the rocks, the laugh of little children in the streets--all +these made Athens fair, but could not take the cloud from the hearts of +the people. + +Trade was at standstill in the Agora. The most careless frequented the +temples. Old foes composed their cases before the arbitrator. The courts +were closed, but there was meeting after meeting in the Pnyx, with +incessant speeches on one theme--how Athens must resist to the bitter end. + +And why should not the end be bitter? Argos and Crete had Medized. Corcyra +promised and did nothing. Thebes was weakening. Thessaly had sent earth +and water. Corinth, AEgina, and a few lesser states were moderately loyal, +but great Sparta only procrastinated and despatched no help to her +Athenian ally. So every day the Persian thunder-cloud was darkening. + +But one man never faltered, nor suffered others about him to +falter,--Themistocles. The people heard him gladly--he would never talk of +defeat. He had a thousand reasons why the invader should be baffled, from +a convenient hexameter in old Bacis's oracle book, up to the fact that the +Greeks used the longest spears. If he found it weary work looking the +crowding peril in the face and smiling still, he never confessed it. His +friends would marvel at his serenity. Only when they saw him sit silent, +saw his brows knit, his hand comb at his beard, they knew his +inexhaustible brain was weaving the web which should ensnare the lord of +the Aryans. + +Thus day after day--while men thought dark things in their hearts. + + * * * * * * * + +Hermippus had come down to his city house from Eleusis, and with him his +wife and daughter. The Eleusinian was very busy. He was a member of the +Areopagus, the old council of ex-archons, an experienced body that found +much to do. Hermippus had strained his own resources to provide shields +for the hoplites. He was constantly with Themistocles, which implied being +much with Democrates. The more he saw of the young orator, the better the +Eleusinian liked him. True, not every story ran to Democrates's credit, +but Hermippus knew the world, and could forgive a young man if he had +occasionally spent a jolly night. Democrates seemed to have forsworn +Ionian harp-girls now. His patriotism was self-evident. The Eleusinian saw +in him a most desirable protector in the perils of war for Hermione and +her child. Hermione's dislike for her husband's destroyer was +natural,--nay, in bounds, laudable,--but one must not give way too much to +women's phantasies. The lady was making a Cyclops of Democrates by sheer +imagination; an interview would dispel her prejudices. Therefore Hermippus +planned, and his plan was not hard to execute. + +On the day the fleet sailed to Artemisium, Hermione went with her mother +to the havens, as all the city went, to wish godspeed to the "wooden wall" +of Hellas. + +One hundred and twenty-seven triremes were to go forth, and three and +fifty to follow, bearing the best and bravest of Athens with them. +Themistocles was in absolute command, and perhaps in his heart of hearts +Democrates was not mournful if it lay out of his power to do a second +ill-turn to his country. + +It was again summer, and again such a day as when Glaucon with glad +friends had rowed toward Salamis. The Saronian bay flashed fairest azure. +The scattered isles and the headlands of Argolis rose in clear beauty. The +city had emptied itself. Mothers hung on the necks of sons as the latter +strode toward Peiraeus; friends clasped hands for the last time as he who +remained promised him who went that the wife and little ones should never +be forgotten. Only Hermione, as she stood on the hill of Munychia above +the triple havens, shed no tear. The ship bearing her all was gone long +since. Themistocles would never lead it back. Hermippus was at the quay in +Peiraeus, taking leave of the admiral. Old Cleopis held the babe as +Hermione stood by her mother. The younger woman had suffered her gaze to +wander to far AEgina, where a featherlike cloud hung above the topmost +summit of the isle, when her mother's voice called her back. + +"They go." + +A line of streamers blew from the foremast of the _Nausicaae_ as the piper +on the flag-ship gave the time to the oars. The triple line of blades, +pumiced white, splashed with a steady rhythm. The long black hull glided +away. The trailing line of consorts swiftly followed. From the hill and +the quays a shout uprose from the thousands, to be answered by the +fleet,--a cheer or a prayer to sea-ruling Poseidon those who gave it hardly +knew. The people stood silent till the last dark hull crept around the +southern headland; then, still in silence, the multitudes dissolved. The +young and the strong had gone from them. For Athens this was the beginning +of the war. + +Hermione and Lysistra awaited Hermippus before setting homeward, but the +Eleusinian was delayed. The fleet had vanished. The havens were empty. In +Cleopis's arms little Phoenix wept. His mother was anxious to be gone, when +she was surprised to see a figure climbing the almost deserted slope. A +moment more and she was face to face with Democrates, who advanced +outstretching his hand and smiling. + +The orator wore the dress of his new office of strategus. The purple-edged +cloak, the light helmet wreathed with myrtle, the short sword at his side, +all became him well. If there were deeper lines about his face than on the +day Hermione last saw him, even an enemy would confess a leader of the +Athenians had cause to be thoughtful. He was cordially greeted by Lysistra +and seemed not at all abashed that Hermione gave only a sullen nod. From +the ladies he turned with laughter to Cleopis and her burden. + +"A new Athenian!" spoke he, lightly, "and I fear Xerxes will have been +chased away before he has a chance to prove his valour. But fear not, +there will be more brave days in store." + +Hermione shook her head, ill-pleased. + +"Blessed be Hera, my babe is too young to know aught of wars. And if we +survive this one, will not just Zeus spare us from further bloodshed?" + +Democrates, without answering, approached the nurse, and Phoenix--for +reasons best known to himself--ceased lamenting and smiled up in the +orator's face. + +"His mother's features and eyes," cried Democrates. "I swear it--ay, by all +Athena's owls--that young Hermes when he lay in Maia's cave on Mt. Cylene +was not finer or lustier than he. His mother's face and eyes, I say." + +"His father's," corrected Hermione. "Is not his name Phoenix? In him will +not Glaucon the Beautiful live again? Will he not grow to man's estate to +avenge his murdered father?" The lady spoke without passion, but with a +cold bitterness that made Democrates cease from smiling. He turned away +from the babe. + +"Forgive me, dear lady," he answered her, "I am wiser at ruling the +Athenians than at ruling children, but I see nothing of Glaucon about the +babe, though much of his beautiful mother." + +"You had once a better memory, Democrates," said Hermione, reproachfully. + +"I do not understand your Ladyship." + +"I mean that Glaucon has been dead one brief year. Can you forget _his_ +face in so short a while?" + +But here Lysistra interposed with all good intent. + +"You are fond and foolish, Hermione, and like all young mothers are +enraged if all the world does not see his father's image in their +first-born." + +"Democrates knows what I would say," said the younger woman, soberly. + +"Since your Ladyship is pleased to speak in riddles and I am no seer nor +oracle-monger, I must confess I cannot follow. But we will contend no more +concerning little Phoenix. Enough that he will grow up fair as the Delian +Apollo and an unspeakable joy to his mother." + +"Her only joy," was Hermione's icy answer. "Wrap up the child, Cleopis. My +father is coming. It is a long walk home to the city." + +With a rustle of white Hermione went down the slope in advance of her +mother. Hermippus and Lysistra were not pleased. Plainly their daughter +kept all her prejudice against Democrates. Her cold contempt was more +disappointing even than open fury. + +Once at home Hermione held little Phoenix long to her heart and wept over +him. For the sake of her dead husband's child, if for naught else, how +could she suffer them to give her to Democrates? That the orator had +destroyed Glaucon in black malice had become a corner-stone in her belief. +She could at first give for it only a woman's reason--blind intuition. She +could not discuss her conviction with her mother or with any save a +strange confidant--Phormio. + +She had met the fishmonger in the Agora once when she went with the slaves +to buy a mackerel. The auctioneer had astonished everybody by knocking +down to her a noble fish an obol under price, then under pretext of +showing her a rare Boeotian eel got her aside into his booth and whispered +a few words that made the red and white come and go from her cheeks, after +which the lady's hand went quickly to her purse, and she spoke quick words +about "the evening" and "the garden gate." + +Phormio refused the drachma brusquely, but kept the tryst. Cleopis had the +key to the garden, and would contrive anything for her mistress--especially +as all Athens knew Phormio was harmless save with his tongue. That evening +for the first time Hermione heard the true story of Glaucon's escape by +the _Solon_, but when the fishmonger paused she hung down her head closer. + +"You saved him, then? I bless you. But was the sea more merciful than the +executioner?" + +The fishmonger let his voice fall lower. + +"Democrates is unhappy. Something weighs on his mind. He is afraid." + +"Of what?" + +"Bias his slave came to see me again last night. Many of his master's +doings have been strange to him. Many are riddles still, but one thing at +last is plain. Hiram has been to see Democrates once more, despite the +previous threats. Bias listened. He could not understand everything, but +he heard Lycon's name passed many times, then one thing he caught clearly. +'_The Babylonish carpet-seller was the Prince Mardonius._' 'The Babylonian +fled on the _Solon_.' 'The Prince is safe in Sardis.' If Mardonius could +escape the storm and wreck, why not Glaucon, a king among swimmers?" + +Hermione clapped her hands to her head. + +"Don't torture me. I've long since trodden out hope. Why has he sent me no +word in all these months of pain?" + +"It is not the easiest thing to get a letter across the AEgean in these +days of roaring war." + +"I dare not believe it. What else did Bias hear?" + +"Very little. Hiram was urging something. Democrates always said, +'Impossible.' Hiram went away with a very sour grin. However, Democrates +caught Bias lurking." + +"And flogged him?" + +"No, Bias ran into the street and cried out he would flee to the Temple of +Theseus, the slave's sanctuary, and demand that the archon sell him to a +kinder master. Then suddenly Democrates forgave him and gave him five +drachmae to say no more about it." + +"And so Bias at once told you?" Hermione could not forbear a smile, but +her gesture was of desperation. "O Father Zeus--only the testimony of a +slave to lean on, I a weak woman and Democrates one of the chief men in +Athens! O for strength to wring out all the bitter truth!" + +"Peace, _kyria_," said Phormio, not ungently, "Aletheia, Mistress Truth, +is a patient dame, but she says her word at last. And you see that hope is +not quite dead." + +"I dare not cherish it. If I were but a man!" repeated Hermione. But she +thanked Phormio many times, would not let him refuse her money, and bade +him come often again and bring her all the Agora gossip about the war. +"For we are friends," she concluded; "you and I are the only persons who +hold Glaucon innocent in all the world. And is that not tie enough?" + +So Phormio came frequently, glad perhaps to escape the discipline of his +spouse. Now he brought a rumour of Xerxes's progress, now a bit of Bias's +tattling about his master. The talebearing counted for little, but went to +make Hermione's conviction like adamant. Every night she would speak over +Phoenix as she held him whilst he slept. + +"Grow fast, _makaire_, grow strong, for there is work for you to do! Your +father cries, 'Avenge me well,' even from Hades." + + * * * * * * * + +After the departure of the fleet Athens seemed silent as the grave. On the +streets one met only slaves and graybeards. In the Agora the hucksters' +booths were silent, but little groups of white-headed men sat in the +shaded porticos and watched eagerly for the appearing of the archon before +the government house to read the last despatch of the progress of Xerxes. +The Pnyx was deserted. The gymnasia were closed. The more superstitious +scanned the heavens for a lucky or unlucky flight of hawks. The +priestesses sang litanies all day and all night on the Acropolis where the +great altar to Athena smoked with victims continually. At last, after the +days of uncertainty and wavering rumour, came surer tidings of battles. + +"Leonidas is fighting at Thermopylae. The fleets are fighting at +Artemisium, off Euboea. The first onsets of the Barbarians have failed, but +nothing is decided." + +This was the substance, and tantalizingly meagre. And the strong army of +Sparta and her allies still tarried at the Isthmus instead of hasting to +aid the pitiful handful at Thermopylae. Therefore the old men wagged their +heads, the altars were loaded with victims, and the women wept over their +children. + +So ended the first day after news came of the fighting. The second was +like it--only more tense. Hermione never knew that snail called time to +creep more slowly. Never had she chafed more against the iron custom which +commanded Athenian gentlewomen to keep, tortoise-like, at home in days of +distress and tumult. On the evening of the second day came once more the +dusty courier. Leonidas was holding the gate of Hellas. The Barbarians had +perished by thousands. At Artemisium, Themistocles and the allied Greek +admirals were making head against the Persian armadas. But still nothing +was decided. Still the Spartan host lingered at the Isthmus, and Leonidas +must fight his battle alone. The sun sank that night with tens of +thousands wishing his car might stand fast. At gray dawn Athens was awake +and watching. Men forgot to eat, forgot to drink. One food would have +contented--news! + + * * * * * * * + +It was about noon--"the end of market time," had there been any market then +at Athens--when Hermione knew by instinct that news had come from the +battle and that it was evil. She and her mother had sat since dawn by the +upper window, craning forth their heads up the street toward the Agora, +where they knew all couriers must hasten. Along the street in all the +houses other women were peering forth also. When little Phoenix cried in +his cradle, his mother for the first time in his life almost angrily bade +him be silent. Cleopis, the only one of the fluttering servants who went +placidly about the wonted tasks, vainly coaxed her young mistress with +figs and a little wine. Hermippus was at the council. The street, save for +the leaning heads of the women, was deserted. Then suddenly came a change. + +First a man ran toward the Agora, panting,--his himation blew from his +shoulders, he never stopped to recover it. Next shouts, scattered in the +beginning, then louder, and coming not as a roar but as a wailing, rising, +falling like the billows of the howling sea,--as if the thousands in the +market-place groaned in sore agony. Shrill and hideous they rose, and a +hand of ice fell on the hearts of the listening women. Then more runners, +until the street seemed alive by magic, slaves and old men all crowding to +the Agora. And still the shout and ever more dreadful. The women leaned +from the windows and cried vainly to the trampling crowd below. + +"Tell us! In the name of Athena, tell us!" No answer for long, till at +last a runner came not toward the Agora but from it. They had hardly need +to hear what he was calling. + +"Leonidas is slain. Thermopylae is turned! Xerxes is advancing!" + +Hermione staggered back from the lattice. In the cradle Phoenix awoke; +seeing his mother bending over him, he crowed cheerily and flung his +chubby fists in her face. She caught him up and again could not fight the +tears away. + +"Glaucon! Glaucon!" she prayed,--for her husband was all but a deity in her +sight,--"hear us wherever you are, even if in the blessed land of +Rhadamanthus. Take us thither, your child and me, for there is no peace or +shelter left on earth!" + +Then, seeing her panic-stricken women flying hither and thither like +witless birds, her patrician blood asserted itself. She dashed the drops +from her eyes and joined her mother in quieting the maids. Whatever there +was to hope or fear, their fate would not be lightened by wild moaning. +Soon the direful wailing from the Agora ceased. A blue flag waved over the +Council House, a sign that the "Five Hundred" had been called in hurried +session. Simultaneously a dense column of smoke leaped up from the +market-place. The archons had ordered the hucksters' booths to be burned, +as a signal to all Attica that the worst had befallen. + +After inexpressibly long waiting Phormio came, then Hermippus, to tell all +they knew. Leonidas had perished gloriously. His name was with the +immortals, but the mountain wall of Hellas had been unlocked. No Spartan +army was in Boeotia. The bravest of Athens were in the fleet. The easy +Attic passes of Phyle and Decelea could never be defended. Nothing could +save Athens from Xerxes. The calamity had been foreseen, but to foresee is +not to realize. That night in Athens no man slept. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV + + + THE EVACUATION OF ATHENS + + +It had come at last,--the hour wise men had dreaded, fools had scoffed at, +cowards had dared not face. The Barbarian was within five days' march of +Attica. The Athenians must bow the knee to the world monarch or go forth +exiles from their country. + +In the morning after the night of terror came another courier, not this +time from Thermopylae. He bore a letter from Themistocles, who was +returning from Euboea with the whole allied Grecian fleet. The reading of +the letter in the Agora was the first rift in the cloud above the city. + +"Be strong, prove yourselves sons of Athens. Do what a year ago you so +boldly voted. Prepare to evacuate Attica. All is not lost. In three days I +will be with you." + +There was no time for an assembly at the Pnyx, but the Five Hundred and +the Areopagus council acted for the people. It was ordered to remove the +entire population of Attica, with all their movable goods, across the bay +to Salamis or to the friendly Peloponnesus, and that same noon the heralds +went over the land to bear the direful summons. + +To Hermione, who in the calm after-years looked back on all this year of +agony and stress as on an unreal thing, one time always was stamped on +memory as no dream, but vivid, unforgetable,--these days of the great +evacuation. Up and down the pleasant plain country of the Mesogia to +southward, to the rolling highlands beyond Pentelicus and Parnes, to the +slumbering villages by Marathon, to the fertile farm-land by Eleusis, went +the proclaimers of ill-tidings. + +"Quit your homes, hasten to Athens, take with you what you can, but +hasten, or stay as Xerxes's slaves." + +For the next two days a piteous multitude was passing through the city. A +country of four hundred thousand inhabitants was to be swept clean and +left naked and profitless to the invader. Under Hermione's window, as she +gazed up and down the street, jostled the army of fugitives, women old and +young, shrinking from the bustle and uproar, grandsires on their staves, +boys driving the bleating goats or the patient donkeys piled high with +pots and panniers, little girls tearfully hugging a pet puppy or hen. But +few strong men were seen, for the fleet had not yet rounded Sunium to bear +the people away. + +The well-loved villas and farmsteads were tenantless. They left the +standing grain, the ripening orchards, the groves of the sacred olives. +Men rushed for the last time to the shrines where their fathers had +prayed,--the temples of Theseus, Olympian Zeus, Dionysus, Aphrodite. The +tombs of the worthies of old, stretching out along the Sacred Way to +Eleusis, where Solon, Clisthenes, Miltiades, and many another bulwark of +Athens slept, had the last votive wreath hung lovingly upon them. And +especially men sought the great temple of the "Rock," to lift their hands +to Athena Polias, and vow awful vows of how harm to the Virgin Goddess +should be wiped away in blood. + +So the throng passed through the city and toward the shore, awaiting the +fleet. + +It came after eager watching. The whole fighting force of Athens and her +Corinthian, AEginetan, and other allies. Before the rest raced a stately +ship, the _Nausicaae_, her triple-oar bank flying faster than the spray. +The people crowded to the water's edge when the great trireme cast off her +pinnace and a well-known figure stepped therein. + +"Themistocles is with us!" + +He landed at Phaleron, the thousands greeted him as if he were a god. He +seemed their only hope--the Atlas upbearing all the fates of Athens. With +the glance of his eye, with a few quick words, he chased the terrors from +the strategi and archons that crowded up around him. + +"Why distressed? Have we not held the Barbarians back nobly at Artemisium? +Will we not soon sweep his power from the seas in fair battle?" + +With almost a conqueror's train he swept up to the city. A last assembly +filled the Pnyx. Themistocles had never been more hopeful, more eloquent. +With one voice men voted never to bend the knee to the king. If the gods +forbade them to win back their own dear country, they would go together to +Italy, to found a new and better Athens far from the Persian's power. And +at Themistocles's motion they voted to recall all the political exiles, +especially Themistocles's own great enemy Aristeides the Just, banished by +the son of Neocles only a few years before. The assembly dispersed--not +weeping but with cheers. Already it was time to be quitting the city. +Couriers told how the Tartar horsemen were burning the villages beyond +Parnes. The magistrates and admirals went to the house of Athena. The last +incense smoked before the image. The bucklers hanging on the temple wall +were taken down by Cimon and the other young patricians. The statue was +reverently lifted, wound in fine linen, and borne swiftly to the fleet. + +"Come, _makaira_!" called Hermippus, entering his house to summon his +daughter. Hermione sent a last glance around the disordered aula; her +mother called to the bevy of pallid, whimpering maids. Cleopis was bearing +Phoenix, but Hermione took him from her. Only his own mother should bear +him now. They went through the thinning Agora and took one hard look at +each familiar building and temple. When they should return to them, the +inscrutable god kept hid. So to Peiraeus,--and to the rapid pinnaces which +bore them across the narrow sea to Salamis, where for the moment at least +was peace. + +All that day the boats were bearing the people, and late into the night, +until the task was accomplished, the like whereof is not found in history. +No Athenian who willed was left to the power of Xerxes. One brain and +voice planned and directed all. Leonidas, Ajax of the Hellenes, had been +taken. Themistocles, their Odysseus, valiant as Ajax and gifted with the +craft of the immortals, remained. Could that craft and that valour turn +back the might of even the god-king of the Aryans? + + + + + CHAPTER XXV + + + THE ACROPOLIS FLAMES + + +A few days only Xerxes and his host rested after the dear-bought triumph +at Thermopylae. An expedition sent to plunder Delphi returned +discomfited--thanks, said common report, to Apollo himself, who broke off +two mountain crags to crush the impious invaders. But no such miracle +halted the march on Athens. Boeotia and her cities welcomed the king; +Thespiae and Plataea, which had stood fast for Hellas, were burned. The +Peloponnesian army lingered at Corinth, busy with a wall across the +Isthmus, instead of risking valorous battle. + +"By the soul of my father," the king had sworn, "I believe that after the +lesson at Thermopylae these madmen will not fight again!" + +"By land they will not," said Mardonius, always at his lord's elbow, "by +sea--it remains for your Eternity to discover." + +"Will they really dare to fight by sea?" asked Xerxes, hardly pleased at +the suggestion. + +"Omnipotence, you have slain Leonidas, but a second great enemy remains. +While Themistocles lives, it is likely your slaves will have another +opportunity to prove to you their devotion." + +"Ah, yes! A stubborn rogue, I hear. Well--if we must fight by sea, it shall +be under my own eyes. My loyal Phoenician and Egyptian mariners did not do +themselves full justice at Artemisium; they lacked the valour which comes +from being in the presence of their king." + +"Which makes a dutiful subject fight as ten," quickly added Pharnaspes the +fan-bearer. + +"Of course," smiled the monarch, "and now I must ask again, Mardonius, how +fares it with my handsome Prexaspes?" + +"Only indifferently, your Majesty, since you graciously deign to inquire." + +"Such a sad wound? That is heavy news. He takes long in recovering. I +trust he wants for nothing." + +"Nothing, Omnipotence. He has the best surgeons in the camp." + +"To-day I will send him Helbon wine from my own table. I miss his comely +face about me. I want him here to play at dice. Tell him to recover +because his king desires it. If he has become right Persian, that will be +better than any physic." + +"I have no doubt he will be deeply moved to learn of your Eternity's +kindness," rejoined the bow-bearer, who was not sorry that further +discussion of this delicate subject was averted by the arch-usher +introducing certain cavalry officers with their report on the most +practicable line of march through Boeotia. + +Glaucon, in fact, was long since out of danger, thanks to the sturdy +bronze of his Laconian helmet. He was able to walk, and, if need be, ride, +but Mardonius would not suffer him to go outside his own tents. The +Athenian would be certain to be recognized, and at once Xerxes would send +for him, and how Glaucon, in his new frame of mind, would deport himself +before majesty, whether he would not taunt the irascible monarch to his +face, the bow-bearer did not know. Therefore the Athenian endured a manner +of captivity in the tents with the eunuchs, pages, and women. Artazostra +was often with him, and less frequently Roxana. But the Egyptian had lost +all power over him now. He treated her with a cold courtesy more painful +than contempt. Once or twice Artazostra had tried to turn him back from +his purpose, but her words always broke themselves over one barrier. + +"I am born a Hellene, lady. My gods are not yours. I must live and die +after the manner of my people. And that our gods are strong and will give +victory, after that morning with Leonidas I dare not doubt." + +When the host advanced south and eastward from Thermopylae, Glaucon went +with it, riding in a closed travelling carriage guarded by Mardonius's +eunuchs. All who saw it said that here went one of the bow-bearer's harem +women, and as for the king, every day he asked for his favourite, and +every day Mardonius told him, "He is even as before," an answer which the +bow-bearer prayed to truth-loving Mithra might not be accounted a lie. + +It was while the army lay at Plataea that news came which might have shaken +Glaucon's purpose, had that purpose been shakable. Euboulus the Corinthian +had been slain in a skirmish shortly after the forcing of Thermopylae. The +tidings meant that no one lived who could tell in Athens that on the day +of testing the outlaw had cast in his lot with Hellas. Leonidas was dead. +The Spartan soldiers who had heard Glaucon avow his identity were dead. In +the hurried conference of captains preceding the retreat, Leonidas had +told his informant's precise name only to Euboulus. And now Euboulus was +slain, doubtless before any word from him of Glaucon's deed could spread +abroad. To Athenians Glaucon was still the "Traitor," doubly execrated in +this hour of trial. If he returned to his people, would he not be torn in +pieces by the mob? But the young Alcmaeonid was resolved. Since he had not +died at Thermopylae, no life in the camp of the Barbarian was tolerable. He +would trust sovran Athena who had plucked him out of one death to deliver +from a second. Therefore he nursed his strength--a caged lion waiting for +freedom,--and almost wished the Persian host would advance more swiftly +that he might haste onward to his own. + + * * * * * * * + +Glaucon had cherished a hope to see the whole power of the Peloponnesus in +array in Boeotia, but that hope proved quickly vain. The oracle was truly +to be fulfilled,--the whole of "the land of Cecrops" was to be possessed by +the Barbarian. The mountain passes were open. No arrows greeted the +Persian vanguard as it cantered down the defiles, and once more the king's +courtiers told their smiling master that not another hand would be raised +against him. + +The fourth month after quitting the Hellespont Xerxes entered Athens. The +gates stood ajar. The invaders walked in silent streets as of a city of +the dead. A few runaway slaves alone greeted them. Only in the Acropolis a +handful of superstitious old men and temple warders had barricaded +themselves, trusting that Athena would still defend her holy mountain. For +a few days they defended the steep, rolling down huge boulders, but the +end was inevitable. The Persians discovered a secret path upward. The +defenders were surprised and dashed themselves from the crags or were +massacred. A Median spear-man flung a fire-brand. The house of the +guardian goddess went up in flame. The red column leaping to heaven was a +beacon for leagues around that Xerxes held the length and breadth of +Attica. + +Glaucon watched the burning temple with grinding teeth. Mardonius's tents +were pitched in the eastern city by the fountain of Callirhoe,--a spot of +fond memories for the Alcmaeonid. Here first he had met Hermione, come with +her maids to draw water, and had gone away dreaming of Aphrodite arising +from the sea. Often here he had sat with Democrates by the little pool, +whilst the cypresses above talked their sweet, monotonous music. Before +him rose the Rock of Athena,--the same, yet not the same. The temple of his +fathers was vanishing in smoke and ashes. What wonder that he turned to +Artazostra at his side with a bitter smile. + +"Lady, your people have their will. But do not think Athena Nikephorus, +the Lady of Triumphs, will forget this day when we stand against you in +battle." + +She did not answer him. He knew that many noblemen had advised Xerxes +against driving the Greeks to desperation by this sacrilege, but this fact +hardly made him the happier. + +At dusk the next evening Mardonius suffered him to go with two faithful +eunuchs and rove through the deserted city. The Persians were mostly +encamped without the walls, and plundering was forbidden. Only Hydarnes +with the Immortals pitched on Areopagus, and the king had taken his abode +by the Agora. It was like walking through the country of the dead. +Everything familiar, everything changed. The eunuchs carried torches. They +wandered down one street after another, where the house doors stood open, +where the aulas were strewn with the debris of household stuff which the +fleeing citizens had abandoned. A deserter had already told Glaucon of his +father's death; he was not amazed therefore to find the house of his birth +empty and desolate. But everywhere else, also, it was to call back +memories of glad days never to return. Here was the school where crusty +Pollicharmes had driven the "reading, writing, and music" into Democrates +and himself between the blows. Here was the corner Hermes, before which he +had sacrificed the day he won his first wreath in the public games. Here +was the house of Cimon, in whose dining room he had enjoyed many a bright +symposium. He trod the Agora and walked under the porticos where he had +lounged in the golden evenings after the brisk stroll from the wrestling +ground at Cynosarges, and had chatted and chaffered with light-hearted +friends about "the war" and "the king," in the days when the Persian +seemed very far away. Last of all an instinct--he could not call it +desire--drove him to seek the house of Hermippus. + +They had to force the door open with a stone. The first red torch-light +that glimmered around the aula told that the Eumolpid had awaited the +enemy in Athens, not in Eleusis. The court was littered with all manner of +stuff,--crockery, blankets, tables, stools,--which the late inhabitants had +been forced to forsake. A tame quail hopped from the tripod by the now +cold hearth. Glaucon held out his hand, the bird came quickly, expecting +the bit of grain. Had not Hermione possessed such a quail? The outlaw's +blood ran quicker. He felt the heat glowing in his forehead. + +A chest of clothes stood open by the entrance. He dragged forth the +contents--women's dresses and uppermost a white airy gauze of Amorgos that +clung to his hands as if he were lifting clouds. Out of its folds fell a +pair of white shoes with clasps of gold. Then he recognized this dress +Hermione had worn in the Panathenaea and on the night of his ruin. He threw +it down, next stood staring over it like a man possessed. The friendly +eunuchs watched his strange movements. He could not endure to have them +follow him. + +"Give me a torch. I return in a moment." + +He went up the stair alone to the upper story, to the chambers of the +women. Confusion here also,--the more valuable possessions gone, but much +remaining. In one corner stood the loom and stretched upon it the +half-made web of a shawl. He could trace the pattern clearly wrought in +bright wools,--Ariadne sitting desolate awaiting the returning of Theseus. +Would the wife or the betrothed of Democrates busy herself with _that_, +whatever the griefs in her heart? Glaucon's temples now were throbbing as +if to burst. + +A second room, and more littered confusion, but in one corner stood a +bronze statue,--Apollo bending his bow against the Achaeans,--which Glaucon +had given to Hermione. At the foot of the statue hung a wreath of purple +asters, dead and dry, but he plucked it asunder and set many blossoms in +his breast. + +A third room, and almost empty. He was moving back in disappointment, when +the torch-light shook over something that swung betwixt two beams,--a +wicker cradle. The woollen swaddling bands were still in it. One could see +the spot on the little pillow with the impress of the tiny head. Glaucon +almost dropped the torch. He pressed his hand to his brow. + +"Zeus pity me!" he groaned, "preserve my reason. How can I serve Hellas +and those I love if thou strikest me mad?" + +With feverish anxiety he sent his eyes around that chamber. His search was +not in vain. He almost trampled upon the thing that lay at his feet,--a +wooden rattle, the toy older than the Egyptian pyramids. He seized it, +shook it as a warrior his sword. He scanned it eagerly. Upon the handle +were letters carved, but there was a mist before his eyes which took long +to pass away. Then he read the rude inscription: "{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER PHI~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER XI~} : {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER UPSILON~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER SIGMA~} : +{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER GAMMA~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER LAMDA~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER ALPHA~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER UPSILON~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER KAPPA~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER SIGMA~}." "Phoenix the son of Glaucon." _His_ child. He was the father +of a fair son. His wife, he was sure thereof, had not yet been given to +Democrates. + +Overcome by a thousand emotions, he flung himself upon a chest and pressed +the homely toy many times to his lips. + + * * * * * * * + +After a long interval he recovered himself enough to go down to the +eunuchs, who were misdoubting his long absence. + +"Persian," he said to Mardonius, when he was again at the bow-bearer's +tents, "either suffer me to go back to my people right soon or put me to +death. My wife has borne me a son. My place is where I can defend him." + +Mardonius frowned, but nodded his head. + +"You know I desire it otherwise. But my word is given. And the word of a +prince of the Aryans is not to be recalled. You know what to expect among +your people--perhaps a foul death for a deed of another." + +"I know it. I also know that Hellas needs me." + +"To fight against us?" asked the bow-bearer, with a sigh. "Yet you shall +go. Eran is not so weak that adding one more to her enemies will halt her +triumph. To-morrow night a boat shall be ready on the strand. Take it. And +after that may your gods guard you, for I can do no more." + +All the next day Glaucon sat in the tents and watched the smoke cloud +above the Acropolis and the soldiers in the plain hewing down the sacred +olives, Athena's trees, which no Athenian might injure and thereafter +live. But Glaucon was past cursing now,--endure a little longer and after +that, what vengeance! + +The gossiping eunuchs told readily what the king had determined. Xerxes +was at Phaleron reviewing his fleet. The Hellenes' ships confronted him at +Salamis. The Persians had met in council, deliberating one night over +their wine, reconsidering the next morning when sober. Their wisdom each +time had been to force a battle. Let the king destroy the enemy at +Salamis, and he could land troops at ease at the very doors of Sparta, +defying the vain wall across the Isthmus. Was not victory certain? Had he +not two ships to the Hellenes' one? So the Phoenician vassal kings and all +his admirals assured him. Only Artemisia, the martial queen of +Halicarnassus, spoke otherwise, but none would hear her. + +"To-morrow the war is ended," a cup-bearer had told a butler in Glaucon's +hearing, and never noticed how the Athenian took a horseshoe in his slim +fingers and straightened it, whilst looking on the scorched columns of the +Acropolis. + +At length the sun spread his last gold of the evening. The eunuchs called +Glaucon to the pavilion of Artazostra, who came forth with Roxana for +their farewell. They were in royal purple. The amethysts in their hair +were worth a month's revenues of Corinth. Roxana had never been lovelier. +Glaucon was again in the simple Greek dress, but he knelt and kissed the +robes of both the women. Then rising he spoke to them. + +"To you, O princess, my benefactress, I wish all manner of blessing. May +you be crowned with happy age, may your fame surpass Semiramis, the +conqueror queen of the fables, let the gods refuse only one prayer--the +conquest of Hellas. The rest of the world is yours, leave then to us our +own." + +"And you, sister of Mardonius," he turned to Roxana now, "do not think I +despise your love or your beauty. That I have given you pain, is double +pain to me. But I loved you only in a dream. My life is not for the rose +valleys of Bactria, but for the stony hills by Athens. May Aphrodite give +you another love, a brighter fortune than might ever come by linking your +fate to mine." + +They held out their hands. He kissed them. He saw tears on the long lashes +of Roxana. + +"Farewell," spoke the women, simply. + +"Farewell," he answered. He turned from them. He knew they were +re-entering the tent. He never saw the women again. + +Mardonius accompanied him all the long way from the fount of Callirhoe to +the sea-shore. Glaucon protested, but the bow-bearer would not hearken. + +"You have saved my life, Athenian," was his answer, "when you leave me +now, it is forever." + +The moon was lifting above the gloomy mass of Hymettus and scattering all +the Attic plain with her pale gold. The Acropolis Rock loomed high above +them. Glaucon, looking upward, saw the moonlight flash on the spear point +and shield of a soldier,--a Barbarian standing sentry on the ruined shrine +of the Virgin Goddess. Once more the Alcmaeonid was leaving Athens, but +with very different thoughts than on that other night when he had fled at +Phormio's side. They quitted the desolate city and the sleeping camp. The +last bars of day had long since dimmed in the west when before them loomed +the hill of Munychia clustered also with tents, and beyond it the +violet-black vista of the sea. A forest of masts crowded the havens, the +fleet of the "Lord of the World" that was to complete his mastery with the +returning sun. Mardonius did not lead Glaucon to the ports, but southward, +where beyond the little point of Colias spread an open sandy beach. The +night waves lapped softly. The wind had sunk to warm puffs from the +southward. They heard the rattle of anchor-chains and tackle-blocks, but +from far away. Beyond the vague promontory of Peiraeus rose dark mountains +and headlands, at their foot lay a sprinkling of lights. + +"Salamis!" cried Glaucon, pointing. "Yonder are the ships of Hellas." + +Mardonius walked with him upon the shelving shore. A skiff, small but +stanch, was ready with oars. + +"What else will you?" asked the bow-bearer. "Gold?" + +"Nothing. Yet take this." Glaucon unclasped from his waist the golden belt +Xerxes had bestowed at Sardis. "A Hellene I went forth, a Hellene I +return." + +He made to kiss the Persian's dress, but Mardonius would not suffer it. + +"Did I not desire you for my brother?" he said, and they embraced. As +their arms parted, the bow-bearer spoke three words in earnest whisper:-- + +"Beware of Democrates." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I can say no more. Yet be wise. Beware of Democrates." + +The attendants, faithful body-servants of Mardonius, and mute witnesses of +all that passed, were thrusting the skiff into the water. There were no +long farewells. Both knew that the parting was absolute, that Glaucon +might be dead on the morrow. A last clasping of the hands and quickly the +boat was drifting out upon the heaving waters. Glaucon stood one moment +watching the figures on the beach and pondering on Mardonius's strange +warning. Then he set himself to the oars, rowing westward, skirting the +Barbarian fleet as it rode at anchor, observing its numbers and array and +how it was aligned for battle. After that, with more rapid stroke, he sent +the skiff across the dark ribbon toward Salamis. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVI + + + THEMISTOCLES IS THINKING + + +Leonidas was taken. Themistocles was left,--left to bear as crushing a load +as ever weighed on man,--to fight two battles, one with the Persian, one +with his own unheroic allies, and the last was the harder. Three hundred +and seventy Greek triremes rode off Salamis, half from Athens, but the +commander-in-chief was Eurybiades of Sparta, the sluggard state that sent +only sixteen ships, yet the only state the bickering Peloponnesians would +obey. Hence Themistocles's sore problems. + +Different from the man of unruffled brow who ruled from the bema was he +who paced the state cabin of the _Nausicaae_ a few nights after the +evacuation. For _he_ at least knew the morn would bring Hellas her doom. +There had been a gloomy council that afternoon. They had seen the +Acropolis flame two days before. The great fleet of Xerxes rode off the +Attic havens. At the gathering of the Greek chiefs in Eurybiades's cabin +Themistocles had spoken one word many times,--"Fight!" + +To which Adeimantus, the craven admiral of Corinth, and many another had +answered:-- + +"Delay! Back to the Isthmus! Risk nothing!" + +Then at last the son of Neocles silenced them, not with arguments but +threats. "Either here in the narrow straits we can fight the king or not +at all. In the open seas his numbers can crush us. Either vote to fight +here or we Athenians sail for Italy and leave you to stem Xerxes as you +can." + +There had been sullen silence after that, the admirals misliking the +furrow drawn above Themistocles's eyes. Then Eurybiades had haltingly +given orders for battle. + +That had been the command, but as the Athenian left the Spartan flag-ship +in his pinnace he heard Globryas, the admiral of Sicyon, muttering, +"Headstrong fool--he shall not destroy us!" and saw Adeimantus turn back +for a word in Eurybiades's ear. The Spartan had shaken his head, but +Themistocles did not deceive himself. In the battle at morn half of the +Hellenes would go to battle asking more "how escape?" than "how conquer?" +and that was no question to ask before a victory. + +The cabin was empty now save for the admiral. On the deck above the hearty +shouts of Ameinias the trierarch, and chanting of the seamen told that on +the _Nausicaae_ at least there would be no slackness in the fight. The ship +was being stripped for action, needless spars and sails sent ashore, extra +oars made ready, and grappling-irons placed. "Battle" was what every +Athenian prayed for, but amongst the allies Themistocles knew it was +otherwise. The crucial hour of his life found him nervous, moody, silent. +He repelled the zealous subalterns who came for orders. + +"My directions have been given. Execute them. Has Aristeides come yet?" +The last question was to Simonides, who had been half-companion, +half-counsellor, in all these days of storm. + +"He is not yet come from AEgina." + +"Leave me, then." + +Themistocles's frown deepened. The others went out. + +The state cabin was elegant, considering its place. Themistocles had +furnished it according to his luxurious taste,--stanchions cased in bronze +hammered work, heavy rugs from Carthage, lamps swinging from chains of +precious Corinthian brass. Behind a tripod stood an image of Aphrodite of +Fair Counsel, the admiral's favourite deity. By force of habit now he +crossed the cabin, took the golden box, and shook a few grains of +frankincense upon the tripod. + +"Attend, O queen," he said mechanically, "and be thou propitious to all my +prayers." + +He knew the words meant nothing. The puff of night air from the port-hole +carried the fragrance from the room. The image wore its unchanging, +meaningless smile, and Themistocles smiled too, albeit bitterly. + +"So this is the end. A losing fight, cowardice, slavery--no, I shall not +live to see that last." + +He looked from the port-hole. He could see the lights of the Barbarian +fleet clearly. He took long breaths of the clear brine. + +"So the tragedy ends--worse than Phrynicus's poorest, when they pelted his +chorus from the orchestra with date-stones. And yet--and yet--" + +He never formulated what came next even in his own mind. + +"_Eu!_" he cried, springing back with part of his old lightness, "I have +borne a brave front before it all. I have looked the Cyclops in the face, +even when he glowered the fiercest. But it all will pass. I presume +Thersytes the caitiff and Agamemnon the king have the same sleep and the +same dreams in Orchus. And a few years more or a few less in a man's life +make little matter. But it would be sweeter to go out thinking 'I have +triumphed' than 'I have failed, and all the things I loved fail with me.' +And Athens--" + +Again he stopped. When he resumed his monologue, it was in a different +key. + +"There are many things I cannot understand. They cannot unlock the riddles +at Delphi, no seer can read them in the omens of birds. Why was Glaucon +blasted? Was he a traitor? What was the truth concerning his treason? +Since his going I have lost half my faith in mortal men." + +Once more his thoughts wandered. + +"How they trust me, my followers of Athens! Is it not better to be a +leader of one city of freemen than a Xerxes, master of a hundred million +slaves? How they greeted me, as if I were Apollo the Saviour, when I +returned to Peiraeus! And must it be written by the chroniclers thereafter, +'About this time Themistocles, son of Neocles, aroused the Athenians to +hopeless resistance and drew on them utter destruction'? O Father Zeus, +must men say _that_? Am I a fool or crazed for wishing to save my land +from the fate of Media, Lydia, Babylonia, Egypt, Ionia? Has dark Atropos +decreed that the Persians should conquer forever? Then, O Zeus, or +whatever be thy name, O Power of Powers, look to thine empire! Xerxes is +not a king, but a god; he will besiege Olympus, even thy throne." + +He crossed the cabin with hard strides. + +"How can I?" he cried half-aloud, beating his forehead. "How can I make +these Hellenes fight?" + +His hand tightened over his sword-hilt. + +"This is the only place where we can fight to advantage. Here in the +strait betwixt Salamis and Attica we have space to deploy all our ships, +while the Barbarians will be crowded by numbers. And if we once +retreat?--Let Adeimantus and the rest prate about--'The wall, the wall +across the Isthmus! The king can never storm it.' Nor will he try to, +unless his councillors are turned stark mad. Will he not have command of +the sea? can he not land his army behind the wall, wherever he wills? Have +I not dinned that argument in those doltish Peloponnesians' ears until I +have grown hoarse? Earth and gods! suffer me rather to convince a stone +statue than a Dorian. The task is less hard. Yet they call themselves +reasoning beings." + +A knock upon the cabin door. Simonides reentered. + +"You do not come on deck, Themistocles? The men ask for you. Ameinias's +cook has prepared a noble supper--anchovies and tunny--will you not join the +other officers and drink a cup to Tyche, Lady Fortune, that she prosper us +in the morning?" + +"I am at odds with Tyche, Simonides. I cannot come with you." + +"The case is bad, then?" + +"Ay, bad. But keep a brave face before the men. There's no call to pawn +our last chance." + +"Has it come to that?" quoth the little poet, in curiosity and concern. + +"Leave me!" ordered Themistocles, with a sweep of the hand, and Simonides +was wise enough to obey. + +Themistocles took a pen from the table, but instead of writing on the +outspread sheet of papyrus, thrust the reed between his teeth and bit it +fiercely. + +"How can I? How can I make these Hellenes fight? Tell that, King Zeus, +tell that!" + +Then quickly his eager brain ran from expedient to expedient. + +"Another oracle, some lucky prediction that we shall conquer? But I have +shaken the oracle books till there is only chaff in them. Or a bribe to +Adeimantus and his fellows? But gold can buy only souls, not courage. Or +another brave speech and convincing argument? Had I the tongue of Nestor +and the wisdom of Thales, would those doltish Dorians listen?" + +Again the knock, still again Simonides. The dapper poet's face was a cubit +long. + +"Oh, grief to report it! Cimon sends a boat from his ship the _Perseus_. +He says the _Dike_, the Sicyonian ship beside him, is not stripping for +battle, but rigging sail on her spars as if to flee away." + +"Is that all?" asked Themistocles, calmly. + +"And there is also a message that Adeimantus and many other admirals who +are minded like him have gone again to Eurybiades to urge him not to +fight." + +"I expected it." + +"Will the Spartan yield?" The little poet was whitening. + +"Very likely. Eurybiades would be a coward if he were not too much of a +fool." + +"And you are not going to him instantly, to confound the faint hearts and +urge them to quit themselves like Hellenes?" + +"Not yet." + +"By the dog of Egypt, man," cried Simonides, seizing his friend's arm, +"don't you know that if nothing's done, we'll all walk the asphodel +to-morrow?" + +"Of course. I am doing all I can." + +"All? You stand with folded hands!" + +"All--for I am thinking." + +"Thinking--oh, make actions of your thoughts!" + +"I will." + +"When?" + +"When the god opens the way. Just now the way is fast closed." + +"_Ai!_ woe--and it is already far into the evening, and Hellas is lost." + +Themistocles laughed almost lightly. + +"No, my friend. Hellas will not be lost until to-morrow morning, and much +can happen in a night. Now go, and let me think yet more." + +Simonides lingered. He was not sure Themistocles was master of himself. +But the admiral beckoned peremptorily, the poet's hand was on the cabin +door, when a loud knock sounded on the other side. The _proreus_, +commander of the fore-deck and Ameinas's chief lieutenant, entered and +saluted swiftly. + +"Your business?" questioned the admiral, sharply. + +"May it please your Excellency, a deserter." + +"A deserter, and how and why here?" + +"He came to the _Nausicaae_ in a skiff. He swears he has just come from the +Barbarians at Phaleron. He demands to see the admiral." + +"He is a Barbarian?" + +"No, a Greek. He affects to speak a kind of Doric dialect." + +Themistocles laughed again, and even more lightly. + +"A deserter, you say. Then why, by Athena's owls, has he left 'the Land of +Roast Hare' among the Persians, whither so many are betaking themselves? +We've not so many deserters to our cause that to-night we can ignore one. +Fetch him in." + +"But the council with Eurybiades?" implored Simonides, almost on his +knees. + +"To the harpies with it! I asked Zeus for an omen. It comes--a fair one. +There is time to hear this deserter, to confound Adeimantus, and to save +Hellas too!" + +Themistocles tossed his head. The wavering, the doubting frown was gone. +He was himself again. What he hoped for, what device lay in that +inexhaustible brain of his, Simonides did not know. But the sight itself +of this strong, smiling man gave courage. The officer reentered, with him +a young man, his face in part concealed by a thick beard and a peaked cap +drawn low upon his forehead. The stranger came boldly across to +Themistocles, spoke a few words, whereat the admiral instantly bade the +officer to quit the cabin. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVII + + + THE CRAFT OF ODYSSEUS + + +The stranger drew back the shaggy cap. Simonides and Themistocles saw a +young, well-formed man. With his thick beard and the flickering cabin +lamps it was impossible to discover more. The newcomer stood silent as if +awaiting remark from the others, and they in turn looked on him. + +"Well," spoke the admiral, at length, "who are you? Why are you here?" + +"You do not know me?" + +"Not in the least, and my memory is good. But your speech now is Attic, +not Doric as they told me." + +"It may well be Attic, I am Athenian born." + +"Athenian? And still to me a stranger? Ah! an instant. Your voice is +familiar. Where have I heard it before?" + +"The last time," rejoined the stranger, his tones rising, "it was a +certain night at Colonus. Democrates and Hermippus were with +you--likewise--" + +Themistocles leaped back three steps. + +"The sea gives up its dead. You are Glaucon son of--" + +"Conon," completed the fugitive, folding his arms calmly, but the admiral +was not so calm. + +"Miserable youth! What harpy, what evil god has brought you hither? What +prevents that I give you over to the crew to crucify at the foremast?" + +"Nothing hinders! nothing"--Glaucon's voice mounted to shrillness--"save +that Athens and Hellas need all their sons this night." + +"A loyal son you have been!" darted Themistocles, his lips curling. "Where +did you escape the sea?" + +"I was washed on Astypalaea." + +"Where have you been since?" + +"In Sardis." + +"Who protected you there?" + +"Mardonius." + +"Did the Persians treat you so shabbily that you were glad to desert +them?" + +"They loaded me with riches and honour. Xerxes showered me with benefits." + +"And you accompanied their army to Hellas? You went with the other Greek +renegades--the sons of Hippias and the rest?" + +Glaucon's brow grew very red, but he met Themistocles's arrowlike gaze. + +"I did--and yet--" + +"Ah, yes--the 'yet,' " observed Themistocles, sarcastically. "I had +expected it. Well, I can imagine many motives for coming,--to betray our +hopes to the Persians, or even because Athena has put some contrite +manhood in your heart. You know, of course, that the resolution we passed +recalling the exiles did not extend pardon to traitors." + +"I know it." + +Themistocles flung himself into a chair. The admiral was in a rare +condition for him,--truly at a loss to divine the best word and question. + +"Sit also, Simonides," his order, "and you, once Alcmaeonid and now outlaw, +tell why, after these confessions, I should believe any other part of your +story?" + +"I do not ask you to believe,"--Glaucon stood like a statue,--"I shall not +blame you if you do the worst,--yet you shall hear--" + +The admiral made an impatient gesture, commanding "Begin," and the +fugitive poured out his tale. All the voyage from Phaleron he had been +nerving himself for this ordeal; his composure did not desert now. He +related lucidly, briefly, how the fates had dealt with him since he fled +Colonus. Only when he told of his abiding with Leonidas Themistocles's +gaze grew sharper. + +"Tell that again. Be careful. I am very good at detecting lies." + +Glaucon repeated unfalteringly. + +"What proof that you were with Leonidas?" + +"None but my word. Euboulus of Corinth and the Spartans alone knew my +name. They are dead." + +"Humph! And you expect me to accept the boast of a traitor with a price +upon his head?" + +"You said you were good at detecting lies." + +Themistocles's head went down between his hands; at last he lifted it and +gazed the deserter in the face. + +"Now, son of Conon, do you still persist that you are innocent? Do you +repeat those oaths you swore at Colonus?" + +"All. I did not write that letter." + +"Who did, then?" + +"A malignant god, I said. I will say it again." + +Themistocles shook his head. + +"Gods take human agencies to ruin a man in these days, even Hermes the +Trickster. Again I say, who wrote that letter?" + +"Athena knows." + +"And unfortunately her Ladyship the Goddess will not tell," cried the +admiral, blasphemously. "Let us fall back on easier questions. Did I write +it?" + +"Absurd." + +"Did Democrates?" + +"Absurd again, still--" + +"Do you not see, dearest outlaw," said Themistocles, mildly, "until you +can lay that letter on some other man's shoulders, I cannot answer, 'I +believe you'?" + +"I did not ask that. I have a simpler request. Will you let me serve +Hellas?" + +"How do I know you are not a spy sent from Mardonius?" + +"Because too many deserters and talebearers are flying to Xerxes now to +require that I thrust my head in the Hydra's jaws. You know surely that." + +Themistocles raised his eyebrows. + +"There's truth said there, Simonides. What do you think?" The last +question was to the poet. + +"That this Glaucon, whatever his guilt a year ago, comes to-night in good +faith." + +"_Euge!_ that's easily said. But what if he betrays us again?" + +"If I understand aright," spoke Simonides, shrewdly, "our case is such +there's little left worth betraying." + +"Not badly put,"--again Themistocles pressed his forehead, while Glaucon +stood as passive as hard marble. Then the admiral suddenly began to rain +questions like an arrow volley. + +"You come from the king's camp?" + +"Yes." + +"And have heard the plans of battle?" + +"I was not at the council, but nothing is concealed. The Persians are too +confident." + +"Of course. How do their ships lie?" + +"Crowded around the havens of Athens. The vassal Ionians have their ships +on the left. The Phoenicians, Xerxes's chief hope, lie on the right, but on +the extreme right anchor the Egyptians." + +"How do you know this?" + +"From the camp-followers' talk. Then, too, I rowed by the whole armada +while on my way to Salamis. I have eyes. The moon was shining. I was not +mistaken." + +"Do you know where rides the trireme of Ariabignes, Xerxes's +admiral-in-chief?" + +"Off the entrance to Peiraeus. It is easy to find her. She is covered with +lights." + +"Ah! and the Egyptian squadron is on the extreme right and closest to +Salamis?" + +"Very close." + +"If they went up the coast as far as the promontory on Mt. AEgaleos, the +strait toward Eleusis would be closed?" + +"Certainly." + +"And on the south the way is already blocked by the Ionians." + +"I had trouble in passing even in my skiff." + +More questions, Glaucon not knowing whither they all were drifting. +Without warning Themistocles uprose and smote his thigh. + +"So you are anxious to serve Hellas?" + +"Have I not said it?" + +"Dare you die for her?" + +"I made the choice once with Leonidas." + +"Dare you do a thing which, if it slip, may give you into the hands of the +Barbarians to be torn by wild horses or of the Greeks to be crucified?" + +"But it shall not slip!" + +"_Euge!_ that is a noble answer. Now let us come." + +"Whither?" + +"To Eurybiades's flag-ship. Then I can know whether you must risk the +deed." + +Themistocles touched a bronze gong; a marine adjutant entered. + +"My pinnace," ordered the admiral. As the man went out, Themistocles took +a long himation from the locker and wrapped it around the newcomer. + +"Since even Simonides and I did not recognize you in your long beard, I +doubt if you are in danger of detection to-night. But remember your name +is Critias. You can dye your hair if you come safe back from this +adventure. Have you eaten?" + +"Who has hunger now?" + +Themistocles laughed. + +"So say all of us. But if the gifts of Demeter cannot strengthen, it is +not so with those of Dionysus. Drink." + +He took from a hook a leathern bottle and poured out a hornful of hot +Chian. Glaucon did not refuse. After he had finished the admiral did +likewise. Then Glaucon in turn asked questions. + +"Where is my wife?" + +"In the town of Salamis, with her father; do you know she has borne--" + +"A son. Are both well?" + +"Well. The child is fair as the son of Leto." + +They could see the light flash out of the eyes of the outlaw. He turned +toward the statue and stretched out his hand. + +"O Aphrodite, I bless thee!" Then again to the admiral, "And Hermione is +not yet given to Democrates in marriage?" The words came swiftly. + +"Not yet. Hermippus desires it. Hermione resists. She calls Democrates +your destroyer." + +Glaucon turned away his face that they might not behold it. + +"The god has not yet forgotten mercy," Simonides thought he heard him say. + +"The pinnace is waiting, _kyrie_," announced the orderly from the +companionway. + +"Let the deserter's skiff be towed behind," ordered Themistocles, once on +deck, "and let Sicinnus also go with me." + +The keen-eyed Asiatic took his place with Themistocles and Glaucon in the +stern. The sturdy boatmen sent the pinnace dancing. All through the brief +voyage the admiral was at whispers with Sicinnus. As they reached the +Spartan flag-ship, half a score of pinnaces trailing behind told how the +Peloponnesian admirals were already aboard clamouring at Eurybiades for +orders to fly. From the ports of the stern-cabin the glare of many lamps +spread wavering bars of light across the water. Voices came, upraised in +jarring debate. The marine guard saluted with his spear as Themistocles +went up the ladder. Leaving his companions on deck, the admiral hastened +below. An instant later he was back and beckoned the Asiatic and the +outlaw to the ship's rail. + +"Take Sicinnus to the Persian high admiral," was his ominous whisper, "and +fail not,--fail not, for I say to you except the god prosper you now, not +all Olympus can save our Hellas to-morrow." + +Not another word as he turned again to the cabin. The pinnace crew had +brought the skiff alongside, Sicinnus entered it, Glaucon took the oars, +pulled out a little, as if back to the _Nausicaae_, then sent the head of +the skiff around, pointing across the strait, toward the havens of Athens. +Sicinnus sat in silence, but Glaucon guessed the errand. The wind was +rising and bringing clouds. This would hide the moon and lessen the +danger. But above all things speed was needful. The athlete put his +strength upon the oars till the heavy skiff shot across the black void of +the water. + + * * * * * * * + +It was little short of midnight when Glaucon swung the skiff away from the +tall trireme of Ariabignes, the Barbarian's admiral. The deed was done. He +had sat in the bobbing boat while Sicinnus had been above with the Persian +chiefs. Officers who had exchanged the wine-cup with Glaucon in the days +when he stood at Xerxes's side passed through the glare of the battle +lanterns swaying above the rail. The Athenian had gripped at the dagger in +his belt as he watched them. Better in the instant of discovery to slay +one's self than die a few hours afterward by slow tortures! But discovery +had not come. Sicinnus had come down the ladder, smiling, jesting, a dozen +subalterns salaaming as he went, and offering all manner of service, for +had he not been a bearer of great good tidings to the king? + +"Till to-morrow," an olive-skinned Cilician navarch had spoken. + +"Till to-morrow," waved the messenger, lightly. He did all things coolly, +as if he had been bearing an invitation to a feast, took his post in the +stern of the skiff deliberately, then turned to the silent man with him. + +"Pull." + +"Whither?" Glaucon was already tugging the oars. + +"To Eurybiades's ship. Themistocles is waiting. And again all speed." + +The line of twinkling water betwixt the skiff and the Persian widened. For +a few moments Glaucon bent himself silently to his task, then for the +first time questioned. + +"What have you done?" + +Even in the darkness he knew Sicinnus grinned and showed his teeth. + +"In the name of Themistocles I have told the Barbarian chiefs that the +Hellenes are at strife one with another, that they are meditating a hasty +flight, that if the king's captains will but move their ships so as to +enclose them, it is likely there will be no battle in the morning, but the +Hellenes will fall into the hands of Xerxes unresisting." + +"And the Persian answered?" + +"That I and my master would not fail of reward for this service to the +king. That the Egyptian ships would be swung at once across the strait to +cut off all flight by the Hellenes." + +The outlaw made no answer, but pulled at the oars. The reaction from the +day and evening of strain and peril was upon him. He was unutterably +weary, though more in mind than in body. The clumsy skiff seemed only to +crawl. Trusting the orders of Sicinnus to steer him aright, he closed his +eyes. One picture after another of his old life came up before him now he +was in the stadium at Corinth and facing the giant Spartan, now he stood +by Hermione on the sacred Rock at Athens, now he was at Xerxes's side with +the fleets and the myriads passing before them at the Hellespont, he saw +his wife, he saw Roxana, and all other things fair and lovely that had +crossed his life. Had he made the best choice? Were the desperate fates of +Hellas better than the flower-banked streams of Bactria, whose delights he +had forever thrust by? Would his Fortune, guider of every human destiny, +bring him at last to a calm haven, or would his life go out amid the +crashing ships to-morrow? The oars bumped on the thole-pins. He pulled +mechanically, the revery ever deepening, then a sharp hail awoke him. + +"O-op! What do you here?" + +The call was in Phoenician. Glaucon scarce knew the harsh Semitic speech, +but the _lembos_, a many-oared patrol cutter, was nearly on them. A moment +more, and seizure would be followed by identification. Life, death, +Hellas, Hermione, all flashed before his eyes as he sat numbed, but +Sicinnus saved them both. + +"The password to-night? You know it," he demanded in quick whisper. + +" 'Hystaspes,' " muttered Glaucon, still wool-gathering. + +"Who are you? Why here?" An officer in the cutter was rising and upholding +an unmasked lantern. "We've been ordered to cruise in the channel and snap +up deserters, and by Baal, here are twain! The crows will pick at your +eyes to-morrow." + +Sicinnus stood upright in the skiff. + +"Fool," he answered in good Sidonian, "dare you halt the king's privy +messenger? It is not _our_ heads that the crows will find the soonest." + +The cutter was close beside them, but the officer dropped his lantern. + +"Good, then. Give the password." + +" 'Hystaspes.' " + +They could see the Phoenician's hand rise to his head in salute. + +"Forgive my rudeness, worthy sir. It's truly needless to seek deserters +to-night with the Hellenes' affairs so desperate, yet we must obey his +Eternity's orders." + +"I pardon you," quoth the emissary, loftily, "I will commend your +vigilance to the admiral." + +"May Moloch give your Lordship ten thousand children," called back the +mollified Semite. + +The crew of the cutter dropped their blades into the water. The boats +glided apart. Not till there was a safe stretch betwixt them did Glaucon +begin to grow hot, then cold, then hot again. Chill Thanatos had passed +and missed by a hair's breadth. Again the bumping of the oars and the +slow, slow creeping over the water. The night was darkening. The clouds +had hid the moon and all her stars. Sicinnus, shrewd and weatherwise, +remarked, "There will be a stiff wind in the morning," and lapsed into +silence. Glaucon toiled on resolutely. A fixed conviction was taking +possession of his mind,--one that had come on the day he had been preserved +at Thermopylae, now deepened by the event just passed,--that he was being +reserved by the god for some crowning service to Hellas, after which +should come peace, whether the peace of a warrior who dies in the arms of +victory, whether the peace of a life spent after a deed well done, he +scarcely knew, and in the meantime, if the storms must beat and the waves +rise up against him, he would bear them still. Like the hero of his race, +he could say, "Already have I suffered much and much have I toiled in +perils of waves and war, let this be added to the tale of those." + +Bump--bump, the oars played their monotonous music on the thole-pins. +Sicinnus stirred on his seat. He was peering northward anxiously, and +Glaucon knew what he was seeking. Through the void of the night their +straining eyes saw masses gliding across the face of the water. Ariabignes +was making his promise good. Yonder the Egyptian fleet were swinging forth +to close the last retreat of the Hellenes. Thus on the north, and +southward, too, other triremes were thrusting out, bearing--both watchers +wisely guessed--a force to disembark on Psyttaleia, the islet betwixt +Salamis and the main, a vantage-point in the coming battle. + +The coming battle? It was so silent, ghostlike, far away, imagination +scarce could picture it. Was this black slumberous water to be the scene +at dawn of a combat beside which that of Hector and Achilles under Troy +would be only as a tale that is told? And was he, Glaucon, son of Conon +the Alcmaeonid, sitting there in the skiff alone with Sicinnus, to have a +part therein, in a battle the fame whereof should ring through the ages? +Bump, bump--still the monologue of the oars. A fish near by leaped from the +water, splashing loudly. Then for an instant the clouds broke. Selene +uncovered her face. The silvery flash quickly come, more quickly flying, +showed him the headlands of that Attica now in Xerxes's hands. He saw +Pentelicus and Hymettus, Parnes and Cithaeron, the hills he had wandered +over in glad boyhood, the hills where rested his ancestors' dust. It was +no dream. He felt his warm blood quicken. He felt the round-bowed skiff +spring over the waves, as with unwearied hands he tugged at the oar. There +are moments when the dullest mind grows prophetic, and the mind of the +Athenian was not dull. The moonlight had vanished. In its place through +the magic darkness seemed gathering all the heroes of his people beckoning +him and his compeers onward. Perseus was there, and Theseus and +Erechtheus, Heracles the Mighty, and Odysseus the Patient, whose intellect +Themistocles possessed, Solon the Wise, Periander the Crafty, Diomedes the +Undaunted, men of reality, men of fable, sages, warriors, demigods, +crowding together, speaking one message: "Be strong, for the heritage of +what you do this coming day shall be passed beyond children's children, +shall be passed down to peoples to whom the tongue, the gods, yea, the +name of Hellas, are but as a dream." + +Glaucon felt the weariness fly from him. He was refreshed as never by +wine. Then through the void in place of the band of heroes slowly +outspread the tracery of a vessel at anchor,--the outermost guardship of +the fleet of the Hellenes. They were again amongst friends. The watcher on +the trireme was keeping himself awake after the manner of sentries by +singing. In the night-stillness the catch from Archilochus rang lustily. + + "By my spear I have won my bread, + By spear won my clear, red wine, + On my spear I will lean and drink,-- + Show me a merrier life than is mine!" + +The trolling called Glaucon back to reality. Guided by Sicinnus, who knew +the stations of the Greek fleet better than he, a second time they came +beside the Spartan admiral. The lamps were still burning in the +stern-cabin. Even before they were alongside, they caught the clamours of +fierce debate. + +"Still arguing?" quoth Sicinnus to the yawning marine officer who advanced +to greet them as they reached the top of the ladder. + +"Still arguing," grunted the Spartan. "I think your master has dragged +forth all his old arguments and invented a thousand new ones. He talks +continuously, as if battling for time, though only Castor knows wherefore. +There's surely a majority against him." + +The emissary descended the companionway, Themistocles leaped up from his +seat in the crowded council. A few whispers, the Asiatic returned to +Glaucon on the deck. The two gazed down the companionway, observing +everything. They had not long to wait. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVIII + + + BEFORE THE DEATH GRAPPLE + + +For the fourth time the subaltern who stood at Eurybiades's elbow turned +the water-glass that marked the passing of the hours. The lamps in the +low-ceiled cabin were flickering dimly. Men glared on one another across +the narrow table with drawn and heated faces. Adeimantus of Corinth was +rising to reply to the last appeal of the Athenian. + +"We have had enough, Eurybiades, of Themistocles's wordy folly. Because +the Athenian admiral is resolved to lead all Hellas to destruction, is no +reason that we should follow. As for his threat that he will desert us +with his ships if we refuse to fight, I fling it in his face that he dare +not make it good. Why go all over the well-threshed straw again? Is not +the fleet of the king overwhelming? Were we not saved by a miracle from +overthrow at Artemisium? Do not the scouts tell us the Persians are +advancing beyond Eleusis toward Megara and the Isthmus? Is not our best +fighting blood here in the fleet? Then if the Isthmus is threatened, our +business is to defend it and save the Peloponnesus, the last remnant of +Hellas unconquered. Now then, headstrong son of Neocles, answer that!" + +The Corinthian, a tall domineering man, threw back his shoulders like a +boxer awaiting battle. Themistocles did not answer, but only smiled up at +him from his seat opposite. + +"I have silenced you, grinning babbler, at last," thundered Adeimantus, +"and I demand of you, O Eurybiades, that we end this tedious debate. If we +are to retreat, let us retreat. A vote, I say, a vote!" + +Eurybiades rose at the head of the table. He was a heavy, florid +individual with more than the average Spartan's slowness of tongue and +intellect. Physically he was no coward, but he dreaded responsibility. + +"Much has been said," he announced ponderously, "many opinions offered. It +would seem the majority of the council favour the decision to retire +forthwith. Has Themistocles anything more to say why the vote should not +be taken?" + +"Nothing," rejoined the Athenian, with an equanimity that made Adeimantus +snap his teeth. + +"We will therefore take the vote city by city," went on Eurybiades. "Do +you, Phlegon of Seriphos, give your vote." + +Seriphos--wretched islet--sent only one ship, but thanks to the Greek mania +for "equality" Phlegon's vote had equal weight with that of Themistocles. + +"Salamis is not defensible," announced the Seriphian, shortly. "Retreat." + +"And you, Charmides of Melos?" + +"Retreat." + +"And you, Phoibodas of Troezene?" + +"Retreat, by all the gods." + +"And you, Hippocrates of AEgina?" + +"Stay and fight. If you go back to the Isthmus, AEgina must be abandoned to +the Barbarians. I am with Themistocles." + +"Record his vote," shouted Adeimantus, ill-naturedly, "he is but one +against twenty. But I warn you, Eurybiades, do not call for Themistocles's +vote, or the rest of us will be angry. The man whose city is under the +power of the Barbarian has no vote in this council, however much we +condescend to listen to his chatterings." + +The Athenian sprang from his seat, his aspect as threatening as Apollo +descending Olympus in wrath. + +"Where is my country, Adeimantus? Yonder!" he pointed out the open +port-hole, "there rides the array of our Athenian ships. What other state +in Hellas sends so many and sets better men within them? Athens still +lives, though her Acropolis be wrapped in flames. 'Strong-hearted men and +naught else are warp and woof of a city.' Do you forget Alcaeus's word so +soon, O Boaster from Corinth? Yes, by Athena Promachos, Mistress of +Battles, while those nine score ships ride on the deep, I have a city +fairer, braver, than yours. And will you still deny me equal voice and +vote with this noble trierarch from Siphinos with his one, or with his +comrade from Melos with his twain?" + +Themistocles's voice rang like a trumpet. Adeimantus winced. Eurybiades +broke in with soothing tones. + +"No one intends to deny your right to vote, Themistocles. The excellent +Corinthian did but jest." + +"A fitting hour for jesting!" muttered the Athenian, sinking back into his +seat. + +"The vote, the vote!" urged the Sicyonian chief, from Adeimantus's elbow, +and the voting went on. Of more than twenty voices only +three--Themistocles's and those of the AEginetan and Megarian admirals--were +in favour of abiding the onset. Yet even when Eurybiades arose to announce +the decision, the son of Neocles sat with his hands sprawling on the +table, his face set in an inscrutable smile as he looked on Adeimantus. + +"It is the plain opinion,"--Eurybiades hemmed and hawed with his +words,--"the plain opinion, I say, of this council that the allied fleet +retire at once to the Isthmus. Therefore, I, as admiral-in-chief, do order +each commander to proceed to his own flag-ship and prepare his triremes to +retire at dawn." + +"Well said," shouted Adeimantus, already on his feet; "now to obey." + +But with him rose Themistocles. He stood tall and calm, his thumbs thrust +in his girdle. His smile was a little broader, his head held a little +higher, than of wont. + +"Good Eurybiades, I grieve to blast the wisdom of all these valiant +gentlemen, but they cannot retire if they wish." + +"Explain!" a dozen shouted. + +"Very simply. I have had good reason to know that the king has moved +forward the western horn of his fleet, so as to enclose our anchorage at +Salamis. It is impossible to retire save through the Persian line of +battle." + +Perseus upholding the Gorgon's head before Polydectes's guests and turning +them to stone wrought hardly more of a miracle than this calm announcement +of Themistocles. Men stared at him vacantly, stunned by the tidings, then +Adeimantus's frightened wrath broke loose. + +"Fox!(10) Was this your doing?" + +"I did not ask you to thank me, _philotate_," was the easy answer. "It is, +however, urgent to consider whether you wish to be taken unresisting in +the morning." + +The Corinthian shook his fist across the table. + +"Liar, as a last device to ruin us, you invent this folly." + +"It is easy to see if I lie," rejoined Themistocles; "send out a pinnace +and note where the Persians anchor. It will not take long." + +For an instant swords seemed about to leap from their scabbards, and the +enraged Peloponnesians to sheathe them in the Athenian's breast. He stood +unflinching, smiling, while a volley of curses flew over him. Then an +orderly summoned him on deck, while Adeimantus and his fellows foamed and +contended below. Under the battle lantern Themistocles saw a man who was +his elder in years, rugged in feature, with massive forehead and wise gray +eyes. This was Aristeides the Just, the admiral's enemy, but their feud +had died when Xerxes drew near to Athens. + +Hands clasped heartily as the twain stood face to face. + +"Our rivalry forever more shall be a rivalry which of us can do most to +profit Athens," spoke the returning exile; then Aristeides told how he had +even now come from AEgina, how he had heard of the clamours to retreat, how +retreat was impossible, for the Persians were pressing in. A laugh from +Themistocles interrupted. + +"My handiwork! Come to the council. They will not believe me, no, not my +oath." + +Aristeides told his story, and how his vessel to Salamis had scarce +escaped the Egyptian triremes, and how by this time all entrance and exit +was surely closed. But even now many an angry captain called him "liar." +The strife of words was at white heat when Eurybiades himself silenced the +fiercest doubter. + +"Captains of Hellas, a trireme of Teos has deserted from the Barbarian to +us. Her navarch sends word that all is even as Themistocles and Aristeides +tell. The Egyptians hold the passage to Eleusis. Infantry are disembarked +on Psyttaleia. The Phoenicians and Ionians enclose us on the eastern +strait. We are hemmed in." + + * * * * * * * + +Once more the orderly turned the water-clock. It was past midnight. The +clouds had blown apart before the rising wind. The debate must end. +Eurybiades stood again to take the votes of the wearied, tense-strung men. + +"In view of the report of the Teans, what is your voice and vote?" + +Before all the rest up leaped Adeimantus. He was no craven at heart, +though an evil genius had possessed him. + +"You have your will, Themistocles," he made the concession sullenly yet +firmly, "you have your will. May Poseidon prove you in the right. If it is +battle or slavery at dawn, the choice is quick. Battle!" + +"Battle!" shouted the twenty, arising together, and Eurybiades had no need +to declare the vote. The commanders scattered to their flag-ships, to give +orders to be ready to fight at dawn. Themistocles went to his pinnace +last. He walked proudly. He knew that whatever glory he might gain on the +morrow, he could never win a fairer victory than he had won that night. +When his barge came alongside, his boat crew knew that his eyes were +dancing, that his whole mien was of a man in love with his fortune. Many +times, as Glaucon sat beside him, he heard the son of Neocles repeating as +in ecstasy:-- + +"They must fight. They must fight." + + * * * * * * * + +Glaucon sat mutely in the pinnace which had headed not for the _Nausicaae_, +but toward the shore, where a few faint beacons were burning. + +"I must confer with the strategi as to the morning," Themistocles declared +after a long interval, at which Sicinnus broke in anxiously:-- + +"You will not sleep, _kyrie_?" + +"Sleep?" laughed the admiral, as at an excellent jest, "I have forgotten +there was such a god as Hypnos." Then, ignoring Sicinnus, he addressed the +outlaw. + +"I am grateful to you, my friend," he did not call Glaucon by name before +the others, "you have saved me, and I have saved Hellas. You brought me a +new plan when I seemed at the last resource. How can the son of Neocles +reward you?" + +"Give me a part to play to-morrow." + +"Thermopylae was not brisk enough fighting, ha? Can you still fling a +javelin?" + +"I can try." + +"_Euge!_ Try you shall." He let his voice drop. "Do not forget your name +henceforth is Critias. The _Nausicaae's_ crew are mostly from Sunium and +the Mesogia. They'd hardly recognize you under that beard; still Sicinnus +must alter you." + +"Command me, _kyrie_," said the Asiatic. + +"A strange time and place, but you must do it. Find some dark dye for this +man's hair to-night, and at dawn have him aboard the flag-ship." + +"The thing can be done, _kyrie_." + +"After that, lie down and sleep. Because Themistocles is awake, is no +cause for others' star-gazing. Sleep sound. Pray Apollo and Hephaestus to +make your eye sure, your hand strong. Then awake to see the glory of +Hellas." + +Confidence, yes, power came through the tones of the admiral's voice. +Themistocles went away to the belated council. Sicinnus led his charge +through the crooked streets of the town of Salamis. Sailors were sleeping +in the open night, and they stumbled over them. At last they found a small +tavern where a dozen shipmen sprawled on the earthen floor, and a gaping +host was just quenching his last lamp. Sicinnus, however, seemed to know +him. There was much protesting and headshaking, at last ended by the glint +of a daric. The man grumbled, departed, returned after a tedious interval +with a pot of ointment, found Hermes knew where. By a rush-candle's +flicker Sicinnus applied the dark dye with a practised hand. + +"You know the art well," observed the outlaw. + +"Assuredly; the agent of Themistocles must be a Proteus with his +disguises." + +Sicinnus laid down his pot and brushes. They had no mirror, but Glaucon +knew that he was transformed. The host got his daric. Again they went out +into the night and forsaking the crowded town sought the seaside. The +strand was broad, the sand soft and cool, the circling stars gave three +hours yet of night, and they lay down to rest. The sea and the shore +stretched away, a magic vista with a thousand mystic shapes springing out +of the charmed darkness, made and unmade as overwrought fancy summoned +them. As from an unreal world Glaucon--whilst he lay--saw the lights of the +scattered ships, heard the clank of chains, the rattling of tacklings. +Nature slept. Only man was waking. + + "The mountain brows, the rocks, the peaks are sleeping, + Uplands and gorges hush! + The thousand moorland things are silence keeping, + The beasts under each bush + Crouch, and the hived bees + Rest in their honeyed ease; + In the purple sea fish lie as they were dead, + And each bird folds his wing over his head." + +The school-learned lines of Alcman, with a thousand other trivial things, +swarmed back through the head of Glaucon the Alcmaeonid. How much he had +lived through that night, how much he would live through,--if indeed he was +to live,--upon the morrow! The thought was benumbing in its greatness. His +head swam with confused memories. Then at last all things dimmed. Once +more he dreamed. He was with Hermione gathering red poppies on the hill +above Eleusis. She had filled her basket full. He called to her to wait +for him. She ran away. He chased, she fled with laughter and sparkling +eyes. He could hear the wavings of her dress, the little cries she flung +back over her shoulder. Then by the sacred well near the temple he caught +her. He felt her struggling gayly. He felt her warm breath upon his face, +her hair was touching his forehead. Rejoicing in his strength, he was +bending her head toward his--but here he wakened. Sicinnus had disappeared. +A bar of gray gold hung over the water in the east. + +"This was the day. _This was the day!_" + +Some moments he lay trying to realize the fact in its full moment. A thin +mist rested on the black water waiting to be dispelled by the sun. From +afar came sounds not of seamen's trumpets, but horns, harps, kettledrums, +from the hidden mainland across the strait, as of a host advancing along +the shore. "Xerxes goes down to the marge with his myriads," Glaucon told +himself. "Have not all his captains bowed and smiled, 'Your Eternity's +victory is certain. Come and behold.' " But here the Athenian shut his +teeth. + +People at length were passing up and down the strand. The coast was +waking. The gray bar was becoming silver. Friends passed, deep in +talk,--perchance for the last time. Glaucon lay still a moment longer, and +as he rested caught a voice so familiar he felt all the blood surge to his +forehead,--Democrates's voice. + +"I tell you, Hiram,--I told you before,--I have no part in the ordering of +the fleet. Were I to interfere with ever so good a heart, it would only +breed trouble for us all." + +So close were the twain, the orator's trailing chiton almost fell on +Glaucon's face. The latter marvelled that his own heart did not spring +from its prison in his breast, so fierce were its beatings. + +"If my Lord would go to Adeimantus and suggest,"--the other's Greek came +with a marked Oriental accent. + +"Harpy! Adeimantus is no Medizer. He is pushed to bay now, and is sure to +fight. Have you Barbarians no confidence? Has not the king two triremes to +our one? Only fools can demand more. Tell Lycon, your master, I have long +since done my uttermost to serve him." + +"Yet remember, Excellency." + +"Begone, scoundrel. Don't threaten again. If I know your power over me, I +can also promise you not to go down to Orchus alone, but take excellent +pains to have fair company." + +"I am sorry to bear such tidings to Lycon, Excellency." + +"Away with you!" + +"Do not raise your voice, _kyrie_," spoke Hiram, never more blandly, "here +is a man asleep." + +The hint sent Democrates from the spot almost on a run. Hiram disappeared +in the opposite direction. Glaucon rose, shook the sand from his cloak, +and stood an instant with his head whirling. The voice of his boyhood +friend, of the man who had ruined him because of a suspicion of +treason--and now deep in compromising talk with the agent of the chief of +the peace party at Sparta! And wherefore had Mardonius spoken those +mysterious words at their parting, "Beware of Democrates"? For an instant +the problems evoked made him forget even the coming battle. + +A clear trumpet-blast down the strand gave a truce to questioning. +Sicinnus reappeared, and led Glaucon to one of the great fires roaring on +the beach, where the provident Greek sailors were breakfasting on barley +porridge and meat broth before dining on spears and arrow-heads. A silent +company, no laughter, no jesting. All knew another sun for them might +never rise. Glaucon ate not because he hungered, but because duty ordered +it. As the light strengthened, the strand grew alive with thousands of men +at toil. The triremes drawn on shore went down into the sea on their +rollers. More trumpet-blasts sent the rowers aboard their ships. But last +of all, before thrusting out to do or die, the Greeks must feast their +ears as well as their stomachs. On the sloping beach gathered the officers +and the armoured marines,--eighteen from each trireme,--and heard one +stirring harangue after another. The old feuds were forgotten. Adeimantus +and Eurybiades both spoke bravely. The seers announced that every bird and +cloud gave good omen. Prayer was offered to Ajax of Salamis that the hero +should fight for his people. Last of all Themistocles spoke, and never to +fairer purpose. No boasts, no lip courage, a painting of the noble and the +base, the glory of dying as freemen, the infamy of existing as slaves. He +told of Marathon, of Thermopylae, and asked if Leonidas had died as died a +fool. He drew tears. He drew vows of vengeance. He never drew applause. +Men were too strained for that. At last he sent the thousands forth. + +"Go, then. Quit yourselves as Hellenes. That is all the task. And I say to +you, in the after days this shall be your joy, to hear the greatest +declare of you, 'Reverence this man, for he saved us all at Salamis.' " + +The company dispersed, each man to his ship. Themistocles went to his +pinnace, and a cheer uprose from sea and land as the boat shot out to the +_Nausicaae_. Eurybiades might be chief in name; who did not know that +Themistocles was the surest bulwark of Hellas? + +The son of Neocles, standing in the boat, uplifted his face to the now +golden east. + +"Be witness, Helios," he cried aloud, "be witness when thou comest, I have +done all things possible. And do thou and thy fellow-gods on bright +Olympus rule our battle now; the lot is in your hands!" + + + + + CHAPTER XXIX + + + SALAMIS + + +Sunrise. The _Nausicaae_ was ready. Ameinias the navarch walked the deck +above the stern-cabin with nervous strides. All that human forethought +could do to prepare the ship had long been done. The slim hull one hundred +and fifty feet long had been stripped of every superfluous rope and spar. +The masts had been lowered. On the cat-heads hung the anchors weighted +with stone to fend off an enemy, astern towed the pinnace ready to drag +alongside and break the force of the hostile ram. The heavy-armed marines +stood with their long boarding spears, to lead an attack or cast off +grappling-irons. But the true weapon of the _Nausicaae_ was herself. To +send the three-toothed beak through a foeman's side was the end of her +being. To meet the shock of collision two heavy cables had been bound +horizontally around the hull from stem to stern. The oarsmen,--the +_thranites_ of the upper tier, the _zygites_ of the middle, the +_thalamites_ of the lower,--one hundred and seventy swart, nervous-eyed +men, sat on their benches, and let their hands close tight upon those oars +which trailed now in the drifting water, but which soon and eagerly should +spring to life. At the belt of every oarsman dangled a sword, for +boarders' work was more than likely. Thirty spare rowers rested +impatiently on the centre deck, ready to leap wherever needed. On the +forecastle commanded the _proreus_, Ameinias's lieutenant, and with him +the _keleustes_, the oar master who must give time on his sounding-board +for the rowing, and never fail,--not though the ships around reeled down to +watery grave. And finally on the poop by the captain stood the +"governor,"--knotted, grizzled, and keen,--the man whose touch upon the +heavy steering oars might give the _Nausicaae_ life or destruction when the +ships charged beak to beak. + +"The trireme is ready, admiral," reported Ameinias, as Themistocles came +up leisurely from the stern-cabin. + +The son of Neocles threw back his helmet, that all might see his calm, +untroubled face. He wore a cuirass of silvered scale-armour over his +purple chiton. At his side walked a young man, whom the ship's people +imagined the deserter of the preceding night, but he had drawn his helmet +close. + +"This is Critias," said Themistocles, briefly, to the navarch; "he is a +good caster. See that he has plenty of darts." + +"One of Themistocles's secret agents," muttered the captain to the +governor, "we should have guessed it." And they all had other things to +think of than the whence and wherefore of this stranger. + +It was a weary, nervous interval. Men had said everything, done +everything, hoped and feared everything. They were in no mood even to +invoke the gods. In desperation some jested riotously as they gripped the +oars on the benches,--demonstrations which the _proreus_ quelled with a +loud "Silence in the ship." The morning mist was breaking. A brisk wind +was coming with the sun. Clear and strong sang the Notus, the breeze of +the kindly south. It covered the blue bay with crisping whitecaps, it sent +the surf foaming up along the Attic shore across the strait. Themistocles +watched it all with silent eyes, but eyes that spoke of gladness. He knew +the waves would beat with full force on the Persian prows, and make their +swift movement difficult while the Greeks, taking the galloping surf +astern, would suffer little. + +"AEolus fights for us. The first omen and a fair one." The word ran in +whispers down the benches, and every soul on the trireme rejoiced. + +How long did they sit thus? An aeon? Would Eurybiades never draw out his +line of battle? Would Adeimantus prove craven at the end? Would treachery +undo Hellas to-day, as once before at Lade when the Ionian Greeks had +faced the Persian fleet in vain? Now as the vapour broke, men began to be +able to look about them, and be delivered from their own thoughts. The +shores of Salamis were alive,--old men, women, little children,--the +fugitives from Attica were crowding to the marge in thousands to watch the +deed that should decide their all. And many a bronze-cheeked oarsman arose +from his bench to wave farewell to the wife or father or mother, and sank +back again,--a clutching in his throat, a mist before his eyes, while his +grip upon the oar grew like to steel. + +As the _Nausicaae_ rode at her place in the long line of ships spread up +and down the shore of Salamis, it was easy to detect forms if not faces on +the strand. And Glaucon, peering out from his helmet bars, saw Democrates +himself standing on the sands and beckoning to Themistocles. Then other +figures became clear to him out of the many, this one or that whom he had +loved and clasped hands with in the sunlit days gone by. And last of all +he saw those his gaze hungered for the most, Hermippus, Lysistra, and +another standing at their side all in white, and in her arms she bore +something he knew must be her child,--Hermione's son, his son, born to the +lot of a free man of Athens or a slave of Xerxes according as his elders +played their part this day. Only a glimpse,--the throng of strangers opened +to disclose them closed again; Glaucon leaned on a capstan. All the +strength for the moment was gone out of him. + +"You rowed and wrought too much last night, Critias," spoke Themistocles, +who had eyes for everything. "To the cabin, Sicinnus, bring a cup of +Chian." + +"No wine, for Athena's sake!" cried the outlaw, drawing himself together, +"it is passed. I am strong again." + +A great shout from the shores and the waiting fleet made him forget even +the sight of Hermione. + +"They come! The Persians! The Persians!" + +The fleet of the Barbarians was advancing from the havens of Athens. + + * * * * * * * + +The sun rose higher. He was far above Hymettus now, and shooting his +bright javelins over mainland, islands, and waters. With his rising the +southern breeze sang ever clearer, making the narrow channel betwixt +Salamis and Attica white, and tossing each trireme merrily. Not a cloud +hung upon Pentelicus, Hymettus, or the purple northern range of Parnes. +Over the desolate Acropolis hovered a thin mist,--smoke from the +smouldering temple, the sight of which made every Attic sailor blink hard +and think of the vengeance. + +Yonder on the shore of the mainland the host of the Persian was moving: +horsemen in gilded panoply, Hydarnes's spearmen in armour like suns. They +stood by myriads in glittering masses about a little spur of Mt. AEgaleos, +where a holy close of Heracles looked out upon the sea. To them were +coming more horsemen, chariots, litters, and across the strait drifted the +thunderous acclamation, "Victory to the king!" For here on the ivory +throne, with his mighty men, his captains, his harem, about him, the "Lord +of the World" would look down on the battle and see how his slaves could +fight. + +Now the Barbarians began to move forth by sea. From the havens of Peiraeus +and their anchorages along the shore swept their galleys,--Phoenician, +Cilician, Egyptian, and, sorrow of sorrows, Ionian--Greek arrayed against +Greek! Six hundred triremes and more they were, taller in poop and prow +than the Hellenes, and braver to look upon. + +Each vied with each in the splendour of the scarlet, purple, and gold upon +stern and foreship. Their thousands of white oars moved like the onward +march of an army as they trampled down the foam. From the masts of their +many admirals flew innumerable gay signal-flags. The commands shouted +through trumpets in a dozen strange tongues--the shrill pipings of the oar +masters, the hoarse shouts of the rowers--went up to heaven in a clamorous +babel. "Swallows' chatter," cried the deriding Hellenes, but hearts were +beating quicker, breath was coming faster in many a breast by Salamis +then,--and no shame. For now was the hour of trial, the wrestle of Olympian +Zeus with Ahura-Mazda. Now would a mighty one speak from the heavens to +Hellas, and say to her "Die!" or "Be!" + +The Barbarians' armadas were forming. Their black beaks, all pointing +toward Salamis, stretched in two bristling lines from the islet of +Psyttaleia--whence the shields of the landing force glittered--to that +brighter glitter on the promontory by AEgaleos where sat the king. To +charge their array seemed charging a moving hedge of spears, impenetrable +in defence, invincible in attack. Slowly, rocked by the sea and rowing in +steady order, the armament approached Salamis. And still the Greek ships +lay spread out along the shore, each trireme swinging at the end of the +cable which moored her to the land, each mariner listening to the beatings +of his own heart and straining his eyes on one ship now--Eurybiades's--which +rode at the centre of their line and far ahead. + +All could read the order of battle at last as squadron lay against +squadron. On the west, under Xerxes's own eye, the Athenians must charge +the serried Phoenicians, at the centre the AEginetans must face the +Cilicians, on the east Adeimantus and his fellows from Peloponnese must +make good against the vassal Ionians. But would the signal to row and +strike never come? Had some god numbed Eurybiades's will? Was treachery +doing its darkest work? With men so highly wrought moments were precious. +The bow strung too long will lose power. And wherefore did Eurybiades +tarry? + +Every soul in the _Nausicaae_ kept his curses soft, and waited--waited till +that trailing monster, the Persian fleet, had crept halfway from +Psyttaleia toward them, then up the shrouds of the Spartan admiral leaped +a flag. Eager hands drew it, yet it seemed mounting as a snail, till at +the masthead the clear wind blew it wide,--a plain red banner, but as it +spread hundreds of axes were hewing the cables that bound the triremes to +the shore, every Greek oar was biting the sea, the ships were leaping away +from Salamis. From the strand a shout went up, a prayer more than a cheer, +mothers, wives, little ones, calling it together:-- + +"Zeus prosper you!" + +A roar from the fleet, the tearing of countless blades on the thole-pins +answered them. Eurybiades had spoken. There was no treason. All now was in +the hand of the god. + + * * * * * * * + +Across the strait they went, and the Barbarians seemed springing to meet +them. From the mainland a tumult of voices was rising, the myriads around +Xerxes encouraging their comrades by sea to play the man. No indecisive, +half-hearted battle should this be, as at Artemisium. Persian and Hellene +knew that. The keen Phoenicians, who had chafed at being kept from action +so long, sent their line of ships sweeping over the waves with furious +strokes. The grudges, the commercial rivalries between Greek and Sidonian, +were old. No Persian was hotter for Xerxes's cause than his Phoenician +vassals that day. + +And as they charged, the foemen's lines seemed so dense, their ships so +tall, their power so vast, that involuntarily hesitancy came over the +Greeks. Their strokes slowed. The whole line lagged. Here an AEginetan +galley dropped behind, yonder a Corinthian navarch suffered his men to +back water. Even the _keleustes_ of the _Nausicaae_ slackened his beating +on the sounding-board. Eurybiades's ship had drifted behind to the line of +her sisters, as in defiance a towering Sidonian sprang ahead of the +Barbarian line of battle, twenty trumpets from her poop and foreship +asking, "Dare you meet me?" The Greek line became almost stationary. Some +ships were backing water. It was a moment which, suffered to slip +unchecked, leads to irreparable disaster. Then like a god sprang +Themistocles upon the capstan on his poop. He had torn off his helmet. The +crews of scores of triremes saw him. His voice was like Stentor's, the +herald whose call was strong as fifty common men. + +In a lull amidst the howls of the Barbarians his call rang up and down the +flagging ships:-- + + "_O Sons of Hellas! save your land,_ + _Your children save, your altars and your wives!_ + _Now dare and do, for ye have staked your all!_" + +"Now dare and do, for ye have staked your all!" + +Navarch shouted it to navarch. The cry went up and down the line of the +Hellenes, "loud as when billows lash the beetling crags." The trailing +oars beat again into the water, and even as the ships once more gained +way, Themistocles nodded to Ameinias, and he to the _keleustes_. The +master oarsman leaped from his seat and crashed his gavel down upon the +sounding-board. + +"_Aru! Aru! Aru!_ Put it on, my men!" + +The _Nausicaae_ answered with a leap. Men wrought at the oar butts, tugging +like mad, their backs toward the foe, conscious only that duty bade them +send the trireme across the waves as a stone whirls from the sling. Thus +the men, but Themistocles, on the poop, standing at the captain's and +governor's side, never took his gaze from the great Barbarian that leaped +defiantly to meet them. + +"Can we risk the trick?" his swift question to Ameinias. + +The captain nodded. "With this crew--yes." + +Two stadia, one stadium, half a stadium, a ship's length, the triremes +were charging prow to prow, rushing on a common death, when Ameinias +clapped a whistle to his lips and blew shrilly. As one man every rower on +the port-side leaped to his feet and dragged his oar inward through its +row-hole. The deed was barely done ere the Sidonian was on them. They +heard the roaring water round her prow, the cracking of the whips as the +petty officers ran up and down the gangways urging on the panting cattle +at the oars. Then almost at the shock the governor touched his steering +oar. The _Nausicaae_ swerved. The prow of the Sidonian rushed past them. A +shower of darts pattered down on the deck of the Hellene, but a twinkling +later from the Barbarians arose a frightful cry. Right across her triple +oar bank, still in full speed, ploughed the Athenian. The Sidonian's oars +were snapping like faggots. The luckless rowers were flung from their +benches in heaps. In less time than the telling every oar on the +Barbarian's port-side had been put out of play. The _diekplous_, favourite +trick of the Grecian seamen, had never been done more fairly. + +Now was Themistocles's chance. He used it. There was no need for him to +give orders to the oar master. Automatically every rower on the port-tiers +of the _Nausicaae_ had run out his blade again. The governor sent the head +of the trireme around with a grim smile locked about his grizzled lips. It +was no woman's task which lay before them. Exposing her whole broadside +lay the long Sidonian; she was helpless, striving vainly to crawl away +with her remaining oar banks. Her people were running to and fro, howling +to Baal, Astarte, Moloch, and all their other foul gods, and stretching +their hands for help to consorts too far away. + +"_Aru! Aru! Aru!_" was the shout of the oar master; again the _Nausicaae_ +answered with her leap. Straight across the narrow water she shot, the +firm hand of the governor never veering now. The stroke grew faster, +faster. Then with one instinct men dropped the oars, to trail in the +rushing water, and seized stanchions, beams, anything to brace themselves +for the shock. The crash which followed was heard on the mainland and on +Salamis. The side of the Phoenician was beaten in like an egg-shell. From +the _Nausicaae's_ poop they saw her open hull reel over, saw the hundreds +of upturned, frantic faces, heard the howls of agony, saw the waves leap +into the gaping void.-- + +"Back water," thundered Ameinias, "clear the vortex, she is going down!" + +The _Nausicaae's_ people staggered to the oars. So busy were they in +righting their own ship few saw the crowning horror. A moment more and a +few drifting spars, a few bobbing heads, were all that was left of the +Phoenician. The AEgean had swallowed her. + +A shout was pealing from the ships of the Hellenes. "Zeus is with us! +Athena is with us!" + +At the outset of the battle, when advantage tells the most, advantage had +been won. Themistocles's deed had fused all the Greeks with hopeful +courage. Eurybiades was charging. Adeimantus was charging. Their ships and +all the rest went racing to meet the foe. + + * * * * * * * + +But the _Nausicaae_ had paid for her victory. In the shock of ramming the +triple-toothed beak on her prow had been wrenched away. In the _melee_ of +ships which had just begun, she must play her part robbed of her keenest +weapon. The sinking of the Barbarian had been met with cheers by the +Hellenes, by howls of revengeful rage by the host against them. Not +lightly were the Asiatics who fought beneath the eyes of the king to be +daunted. They came crowding up the strait in such masses that sheer +numbers hindered them, leaving no space for the play of the oars, much +less for fine manoeuvre. Yet for an instant it seemed as if mere weight +would sweep the Hellenes back to Salamis. Then the lines of battle +dissolved into confused fragments. Captains singled out an opponent and +charged home desperately, unmindful how it fared elsewhere in the battle. +Here an Egyptian ran down a Euboean, there a Sicyonian grappled a Cilician +and flung her boarders on to the foeman's decks. To the onlookers the +scene could have meant naught save confusion. A hundred duels, a hundred +varying victories, but to which side the final glory would fall, who +knew?--perchance not even Zeus. + +In the roaring _melee_ the _Nausicaae_ had for some moments moved almost +aimlessly, her men gathering breath and letting their unscathed comrades +pass. Then gradually the battle drifted round them also. A Cyprian, noting +they had lost their ram, strove to charge them bow to bow. The skill of +the governor avoided that disaster. They ran under the stem of a Tyrian, +and Glaucon proved he had not forgotten his skill when he sent his +javelins among the officers upon the poop. A second Sidonian swept down on +them, but grown wise by her consort's destruction turned aside to lock +with an AEginetan galley. How the fight at large was going, who was +winning, who losing, Glaucon saw no more than any one else. An arrow +grazed his arm. He first learned it when he found his armour bloody. A +sling-stone smote the marine next to him on the forehead. The man dropped +without a groan. Glaucon flung the body overboard, almost by instinct. +Themistocles was everywhere, on the poop, on the foreship, among the +rowers' benches, shouting, laughing, cheering, ordering, standing up +boldly where the arrows flew thickest, yet never hit. So for a while, till +out of the confusion of ships and wrecks came darting a trireme, loftier +than her peers. The railing on poop and prow was silver. The shields of +the javelin-men that crowded her high fighting decks were gilded. Ten +pennons whipped from her masts, and the cry of horns, tambours, and +kettledrums blended with the shoutings of her crew. A partially disabled +Hellene drifted across her path. She ran the luckless ship down in a +twinkling. Then her bow swung. She headed toward the _Nausicaae_. + +"Do you know this ship?" asked Themistocles, at Glaucon's side on the +poop. + +"A Tyrian, the newest in their fleet, but her captain is the admiral +Ariamenes, Xerxes's brother." + +"She is attacking us, Excellency," called Ameinias, in his chief's ear. +The din which covered the sea was beyond telling. + +Themistocles measured the water with his eye. + +"She will be alongside then in a moment," was his answer, "and the beak is +gone?" + +"Gone, and ten of our best rowers are dead." + +Themistocles drew down the helmet, covering his face. + +"_Euge!_ Since the choice is to grapple or fly, we had better grapple." + +The governor shifted again the steering paddles. The head of the +_Nausicaae_ fell away toward her attacker, but no signal was given to +quicken the oars. The Barbarian, noting what her opponent did, but justly +fearing the handiness of the Greeks, slackened also. The two ships drifted +slowly together. Long before they closed in unfriendly contact the arrows +of the Phoenician pelted over the _Nausicaae_ like hail. Rowers fell as they +sat on the upper benches; on the poop the _proreus_ lay with half his men. +Glaucon never counted how many missiles dinted his helmet and buckler. The +next instant the two ships were drifting without steerage-way. The +grappling-irons dashed down upon the Athenian, and simultaneously the +brown Phoenician boarders were scrambling like cats upon her decks. + +"Swords, men!" called Themistocles, never less daunted than at the pinch, +"up and feed them with iron!" + +Three times the Phoenicians poured as a flood over the _Nausicaae_. Three +times they were flung back with loss, but only to rage, call on their +gods, and return with tenfold fury. Glaucon had hurled one sheaf of +javelins, and tore loose another, eye and arm aiming, casting +mechanically. In the lulls he saw how wind and sea were sweeping the two +ships landward, until almost in arrow-shot of the rocky point where sat +Xerxes and his lords. He saw the king upon his ivory throne and all his +mighty men around him. He saw the scribes standing near with parchment and +papyrus, inscribing the names of this or that ship which did well or ill +in behalf of the lord of the Aryans. He saw the gaudy dresses of the +eunuchs, the litters, and from them peering forth the veiled women. Did +Artazostra think _now_ the Hellenes were mad fools to look her brother's +power in the face? From the shores of Attica and of Salamis, where the +myriads rejoiced or wept as the scattered battle changed, the cries were +rising, falling, like the throb of a tragic chorus,--a chorus of Titans, +with the actors gods. + +"Another charge!" shouted Ameinias, through the din, "meet them briskly, +lads!" + +Once more the hoarse Semitic war-shout, the dark-faced Asiatics dropping +upon the decks, the whir of javelins, the scream of dying men, the clash +of steel on steel. A frantic charge, but stoutly met. Themistocles was in +the thickest _melee_. With his own spear he dashed two Tyrians overboard, +as they sprang upon the poop. The band that had leaped down among the oar +benches were hewn in pieces by the seamen. The remnant of the attackers +recoiled in howls of despair. On the Phoenician's decks the Greeks saw the +officers laying the lash mercilessly across their men, but the +disheartened creatures did not stir. Now could be seen Ariamenes, the high +admiral himself, a giant warrior in his purple and gilded armour, going up +and down the poop, cursing, praying, threatening,--all in vain. The +_Nausicaae's_ people rose and cheered madly. + +"Enough! They have enough! Glory to Athens!" + +But here Ameinias gripped Themistocles's arm. The chief turned, and all +the Hellenes with him. The cheer died on their lips. A tall trireme was +bearing down on them in full charge even while the _Nausicaae_ drifted. +They were as helpless as the Sidonian they had sent to death. One groan +broke from the Athenians. + +"Save, Athena! Save! It is Artemisia! The queen of Halicarnassus!" + +The heavy trireme of the amazon princess was a magnificent sight as they +looked on her. Her oars flew in a flashing rhythm. The foam leaped in a +cataract over her ram. The sun made fire of the tossing weapons on her +prow. A yell of triumph rose from the Phoenicians. On the _Nausicaae_ men +dropped sword and spear, moaned, raved, and gazed wildly on Themistocles +as if he were a god possessing power to dash the death aside. + +"To your places, men!" rang his shout, as he faced the foe unmoved, "and +die as Athenians!" + +Then even while men glanced up at the sun to greet Helios for the last +time, there was a marvel. The threatening beak shot around. The trireme +flew past them, her oars leaping madly, her people too intent on escape +even to give a flight of javelins. And again the Athenians cheered. + +"The _Perseus_! Cimon has saved us." + +Not three ships' lengths behind the Halicarnassian raced the ship of the +son of Miltiades. They knew now why Artemisia had veered. Well she might; +had she struck the _Nausicaae_ down, her own broadside would have swung +defenceless to the fleet pursuer. The _Perseus_ sped past her consort at +full speed, Athenian cheering Athenian as she went. + +"Need you help?" called Cimon, from his poop, as Themistocles waved his +sword. + +"None, press on, smite the Barbarian! Athena is with us!" + +"Athena is with us! Zeus is with us!" + +The _Nausicaae's_ crew were lifted from panic to mad enthusiasm. Still +above them towered the tall Phoenician, but they could have scaled Mt. +Caucasus at that instant. + +"Onward! Up and after them," rang Ameinias's blast, "she is our own, we +will take her under the king's own eye." + +The javelins and arrows were pelting from the Barbarian. The Athenians +mocked the shower as they leaped the void from bulwark to bulwark. Vainly +the Phoenicians strove to clear the grapples. Too firm! Their foes came on +to their decks with long leaps, or here and there ran deftly on projecting +spars, for what athlete of Hellas could not run the tight rope? In an +instant the long rowers' deck of the Tyrian was won, and the attackers +cheered and blessed Athena. But this was only storming the first outpost. +Like castles forward and aft reared the prow and poop, whither the sullen +defenders retreated. Turning at bay, the Phoenicians swarmed back into the +waist, waiting no scourging from their officers. Now their proud admiral +himself plunged into the _melee_, laying about with a mighty sword worthy +of Ajax at Troy, showing he was a prince of the Aryans indeed. It took all +the steadiness of Ameinias and his stoutest men to stop the rush, and save +the Athenians in turn from being driven overboard. The rush was halted +finally, though this was mere respite before a fiercer breaking of the +storm. The two ships were drifting yet closer to the strand. Only the fear +of striking their own men kept the Persians around the king from clouding +the air with arrows. Glaucon saw the grandees near Xerxes's throne +brandishing their swords. In imagination he saw the monarch leaping from +his throne in agony as at Thermopylae. + +"Back to the charge," pealed Ariamenes's summons to the Tyrians; "will you +be cowards and dogs beneath the very eyes of the king?" + +The defenders answered with a second rush. Others again hurled darts from +the stern and foreship. Then out of the maelstrom of men and weapons came a +truce. Athenian and Tyrian drew back, whilst Themistocles and Ariamenes +were fighting blade to blade. Twice the giant Persian almost dashed the +Hellene down. Twice Themistocles recovered poise, and paid back stroke for +stroke. He had smitten the helmet from Ariamenes's head and was swinging +for a master-blow when his foot slipped on the bloody plank. He staggered. +Before he could recover, the Persian had brought his own weapon up, and +flung his might into the downward stroke. + +"The admiral--lost!" Athenians shuddered together, but with the groan shot +a javelin. Clear through the scales of the cuirass it tore, and into the +Persian's shoulder,--Glaucon's cast, never at the Isthmus truer with hand +or eye. The ponderous blade turned, grazed the Athenian's corselet, +clattered on the deck. The Persian sprang back disarmed and powerless. At +sight thereof the Phoenicians flung down their swords. True Orientals, in +the fate of their chief they saw decreeing Destiny,--what use to resist it? + +"Yield, my Lord, yield," called Glaucon, in Persian, "the battle is +against you, and no fault of yours. Save the lives of your men." + +Ariamenes gave a toss of his princely head, and with his left hand plucked +the javelin from his shoulder. + +"A prince of the Aryans knows how to die, but not how to yield," he cast +back, and before the Athenians guessed his intent he sprang upon the +bulwark. There in the sight of his king he stood and bowed his head and +with his left arm made the sign of adoration. + +"Seize him!" shouted Ameinias, divining his intent, but too late. The +Persian leaped into the water. In his heavy mail he sank like lead. The +wave closed over him, as he passed forever from the sight of man. + +There was stillness on the Tyrian for a moment. A groan of helpless horror +was rising from the Barbarians on the shore. Then the Phoenicians fell upon +their knees, crying in their harsh tongue, "Quarter! Quarter!" and +embracing and kissing the feet of the victors. Thanks to the moment of +quietness given them, the Athenians' blood had cooled a little; they +gathered up the weapons cast upon the deck; there was no massacre. + +Themistocles mounted the poop of the captured flag-ship, and Glaucon with +him. The wind was wafting them again into the centre of the channel. For +the first time for many moments they were able to look about them, to ask, +"How goes the battle?" Not the petty duel they had fought, but the great +battle of battles which was the life-struggle of Hellas. And behold, as +they gazed they pressed their hands upon their eyes and looked and looked +again, for the thing they saw seemed overgood for truth. Where the great +Barbarian line had been pushing up the strait, were only bands of +scattered ships, and most of these turning their beaks from Salamis. The +waves were strewn with wrecks, and nigh every one a Persian. And right, +left, and centre the triumphant Hellenes were pressing home, ramming, +grappling, capturing. Even whilst the fight raged, pinnaces were thrusting +out from Salamis--Aristeides's deed, they later heard--crowded with martial +graybeards who could not look idly on while their sons fought on the +ships, and who speedily landed on Psyttaleia to massacre the luckless +Persians there stationed. The cheers of the Barbarians were ended now; +from the shores came only a beastlike howling which drowned the paeans of +the victors. As the _Nausicaae's_ people looked, they could see the once +haughty Phoenicians and Cilicians thrusting back against the land, and the +thousands of footmen running down upon the shore to drag the shattered +triremes up and away from the triumphant Hellenes. + +The _Nausicaae's_ people in wondering gaze stood there for a long time as +if transfixed, forgetful how their ship and its prize drifted, forgetful +of weariness, forgetful of wounds. Then as one man they turned to the poop +of the captured Tyrian, and to Themistocles. _He_ had done it--their +admiral. He had saved Hellas under the eyes of the vaunting demigod who +thought to be her destroyer. They called to Themistocles, they worshipped +as if he were the Olympian himself. + + + + + CHAPTER XXX + + + THEMISTOCLES GIVES A PROMISE + + +After the _Nausicaae_ had returned that night to Salamis, after the old men +and the women had laughed and wept over the living,--they were too proud to +weep over the dead,--after the prudent admirals had set the fleet again in +order, for Xerxes might tempt fate again in the morning with his remaining +ships, Themistocles found himself once more in his cabin. With him was +only Glaucon the Alcmaeonid. The admiral's words were few and pointed. + +"Son of Conon, last night you gave me the thought whereby I could save +Hellas. To-day your javelin saved me from death. I owe you much. I will +repay in true coin. To-morrow I can give you back to your wife and all +your friends if you will but suffer me." + +The younger man flushed a little, but his eyes did not brighten. He felt +Themistocles's reservation. + +"On what terms?" + +"You shall be presented to the Athenians as one who, yielding for a moment +to overmastering temptation, has atoned for one error by rendering +infinite service." + +"Then I am to be 'Glaucon the Traitor' still, even if 'Glaucon the +Repentant Traitor'?" + +"Your words are hard, son of Conon; what may I say? Have you any new +explanation for the letter to Argos?" + +"The old one--I did not write it." + +"Let us not bandy useless arguments. Do you not see I shall be doing all +that is possible?" + +"Let me think a little." + +The younger Athenian held down his head, and Themistocles saw his brows +knitting. + +"Son of Neocles," said Glaucon, at length, "I thank you. You are a just +man. Whatever of sorrow has or will be mine, you have no part therein, but +I cannot return--not to Hermione and my child--on any terms you name." + +"Your purpose, then?" + +"To-day the gods show mercy to Hellas, later they may show justice to me. +The war is far from ended. Can you not let me serve on some ship of the +allies where none can recognize me? Thus let me wait a year, and trust +that in that year the sphinx will find her riddle answered." + +"To wait thus long is hard," spoke the other, kindly. + +"I have done many hard things, Themistocles." + +"And your wife?" + +"Hera pity her! She bade me return when Athens knew me innocent. Better +that she wait a little longer, though in sorrow, when I can return to her +even as she bade me. Nevertheless, promise one thing." + +"Name it." + +"That if her parents are about to give her to Democrates or any other, you +will prevent." + +Themistocles's face lightened. He laid a friendly hand on the young man's +shoulder. + +"I do not know how to answer your cry of innocency, _philotate_, but this +I know, in all Hellas I think none is fairer in body or soul than you. +Have no fear for Hermione, and in the year to come may Revealer Apollo +make all of your dark things bright." + +Glaucon bowed his head. Themistocles had given everything the outlaw could +ask, and the latter went out of the cabin. + + + + + + BOOK III + + + THE PASSING OF THE PERSIAN + + + + + CHAPTER XXXI + + + DEMOCRATES SURRENDERS + + +Hellas was saved. But whether forever or only for a year the gods kept +hid. Panic-stricken, the "Lord of the World" had fled to Asia after the +great disaster. The eunuchs, the harem women, the soft-handed pages, had +escaped with their master to luxurious Sardis, the remnant of the fleet +fled back across the AEgean. But the brain and right arm of the Persians, +Mardonius the Valiant, remained in Hellas. With him were still the Median +infantry, the Tartar horse-archers, the matchless Persian lancers,--the +backbone of the undefeated army. Hellas was not yet safe. + +Democrates had prospered. He had been reelected strategus. If Themistocles +no longer trusted him quite so freely as once, Aristeides, restored now to +much of his former power, gave him full confidence. Democrates found +constant and honourable employment through the winter in the endless +negotiations at Sparta, at Corinth, and elsewhere, while the jealous Greek +states wrangled and intrigued, more to humiliate some rival than to +advance the safety of Hellas. But amongst all the patriot chiefs none +seemed more devoted to the common weal of Hellas than the Athenian orator. + +Hermippus at least was convinced of this. The Eleusinian had settled at +Troezene on the Argive coast, a hospitable city that received many an +outcast Athenian. He found his daughter's resistance to another marriage +increasingly unreasonable. Was not Glaucon dead for more than a year? +Ought not any woman to bless Hera who gave her so noble, so eloquent, a +husband as Democrates--pious, rich, trusted by the greatest, and with the +best of worldly prospects? + +"If you truly desire any other worthy man, _makaira_," said Hermippus, +once, "you shall not find me obstinate. Can a loving father say more? But +if you are simply resolved never to marry, I will give you to him despite +your will. A senseless whim must not blast your highest happiness." + +"He ruined Glaucon," said Hermione, tearfully. + +"At least," returned Lysistra, who like many good women could say +exceeding cruel things, "_he_ has never been a traitor to his country." + +Hermione's answer was to fly to her chamber, and to weep--as many a time +before--over Phoenix in the cradle. Here old Cleopis found her, took her in +her arms, and sang her the old song about Alphaeus chasing Arethusa--a song +more fit for Phoenix than his mother, but most comforting. So the contest +for the moment passed, but after a conference with Hermippus, Democrates +went away on public business to Corinth unusually well pleased with the +world and himself. + +It was a tedious, jangling conference held at the Isthmus city. Mardonius +had tempted the Athenians sorely. In the spring had come his envoys +proffering reparation for all injuries in the wars, enlarged territory, +and not slavery, but free alliance with the Great King, if they would but +join against their fellow-Hellenes. The Athenians had met the tempter as +became Athenians. Aristeides had given the envoys the answer of the whole +people. + +"We know your power. Yet tell it to Mardonius, that so long as Helios +moves in the heavens we will not make alliance with Xerxes, but rather +trust to the gods whose temples he has burned." + +Bravely said, but when the Athenians looked to Sparta for the great army +to hasten north and give Mardonius his death-stroke, it was the old +wearisome tale of excuses and delay. At the conference in Corinth +Aristeides and Democrates had passed from arguments to all but threats, +even such as Themistocles had used at Salamis. It was after one of these +fruitless debates that Democrates passed out of the gathering at the +Corinthian prytaneum, with his colleagues all breathing forth their wrath +against Dorian stupidity and evasiveness. + +Democrates himself crossed the city Agora, seeking the house of the +friendly merchant where he was to sup. He walked briskly, his thoughts +more perhaps on the waiting betrothal feast at Troezene, than on the +discussion behind him. The Agora scene had little to interest, the same +buyers, booths, and babel as in Athens, only the citadel above was the +mount of Acro-Corinthus, not the tawny rock of Athena. And in late months +he had begun to find his old fears and terrors flee away. Every day he was +growing more certain that his former "missteps"--that was his own name for +certain occurrences--could have no malign influence. "After all," he was +reflecting, "Nemesis is a very capricious goddess. Often she forgets for a +lifetime, and after death--who knows what is beyond the Styx?" + +He was on such noble terms with all about him that he could even give ear +to the whine of a beggar. The man was sitting on the steps between the +pillars of a colonnade, with a tame crow perched upon his fist, and as +Democrates passed he began his doggerel prayer:-- + + "Good master, a handful of barley bestow + On the child of Apollo, the sage, sable crow." + +The Athenian began to fumble in his belt for an obol, when he was rudely +distracted by a twitch upon his chiton. Turning, he was little pleased to +come face to face with no less a giant than Lycon. + +"There was an hour, _philotate_," spoke the Spartan, with ill-concealed +sneer, "when you did not have so much silver to scatter out to beggars." + +Time had not mended Lycon's aspect, nor taken from his eye that sinister +twinkle which was so marked a foil to his brutishness. + +"I did not invite you, dear fellow," rejoined the Athenian, "to remind me +of the fact." + +"Yet you should have gratitude, and you have lacked that virtue of late. +It was a sorry plight Mardonius's money saved you from two years since, +and nobly have you remembered his good service." + +"Worthy Lacedaemonian," said Democrates, with what patience he could +command, "if you desire to go over all that little business which +concerned us then, at least I would suggest not in the open Agora." He +started to walk swiftly away. The Spartan's ponderous strides easily kept +beside him. Democrates looked vainly for an associate whom he could +approach and on some pretext could accompany. None in sight. Lycon kept +fast hold of his cloak. For practical purposes Democrates was prisoner. + +"Why in Corinth?" he threw out sullenly. + +"For three reasons, _philotate_," Lycon grinned over his shoulder, "first, +the women at the Grove of Aphrodite here are handsome; second, I am weary +of Sparta and its black broth and iron money; third, and here is the rose +for my garland, I had need to confer with your noble self." + +"Would not Hiram be your dutiful messenger again?" queried the other, +vainly watching for escape. + +"Hiram is worth twenty talents as a helper;"--Lycon gave a hound-like +chuckle,--"still he is not Apollo, and there are too many strings on this +lyre for him to play them all. Besides, he failed at Salamis." + +"He did! Zeus blast his importunity and yours likewise. Where are you +taking me? I warn you in advance, you are 'shearing an ass,'--attempting +the impossible,--if you deceive yourself as to my power. I can do nothing +more to prevent the war from being pressed against Mardonius. It is only +your Laconian ephors that are hindering." + +"We shall see, _philotate_, we shall see," grunted the Spartan, +exasperatingly cool. "Here is Poseidon's Temple. Let us sit in the shaded +portico." + +Democrates resigned himself to be led to a stone seat against the wall. +The gray old "dog-watcher" by the gate glanced up to see that no dogs were +straying into the holy house, noted only two gentlemen come for a chat, +and resumed his siesta. Lycon took a long time in opening his business. + +"The world has used you well of late, dear fellow." + +"Passing well, by Athena's favour." + +"You should say by Hermes's favour, but I would trust you Athenians to +grow fat on successful villany and then bless the righteous gods." + +"I hope you haven't left Sparta just to revile me!" cried Democrates, +leaping up, to be thrust back by Lycon's giant paw. + +"_Ai!_ mix a little honey with your speech, it costs nothing. Well, the +length and breadth of my errand is this, Mardonius must fight soon, and +must be victorious." + +"That is for your brave ephors to say," darted Democrates. "According to +their valiant proposals they desire this war to imitate that with Troy,--to +last ten years." + +"Indeed--but I always held my people surpassed in procrastination, as yours +in deceiving. However, their minds will change." + +"Aristeides and Themistocles will bless you for that." + +Lycon shrugged his great shoulders. + +"Then I'll surpass the gods, who can seldom please all men. Still it is +quite true." + +"I'm glad to hear it." + +"Dear Democrates, you know what's befallen in Sparta. Since Leonidas died, +his rivals from my own side of the royal house have gathered a great deal +more of power. My uncle Nicander is at present head of the board of +ephors, and gladly takes my advice." + +"Ha!" Democrates began to divine the drift. + +"It seemed best to me after the affair at Salamis to give the lie to my +calumniators, who hinted that I desired to 'Medize,' and that it was by my +intriguing that the late king took so small a force to Thermopylae." + +"All Hellas knows _your_ patriotism!" cried Democrates, satirically. + +"Even so. I have silenced my fiercest abusers. If I have not yet urged in +our assembly that we should fight Mardonius, it is merely because--it is +not yet prudent." + +"Excellent scoundrel," declared the other, writhing on his seat, "you are +no Spartan, but long-winded as a Sicilian." + +"Patience, _philotate_, a Spartan must either speak in apothegms or take +all day. I have not advised a battle yet because I was not certain of your +aid." + +"Ay, by Zeus," broke out Democrates, "that ointment I sniffed a long way +off. I can give you quick answer. Fly back to Sparta, swift as Boreas; +plot, conspire, earn Tartarus, to your heart's content--you'll get no more +help from me." + +"I expected that speech." Lycon's coolness drove his victim almost +frantic. + +"In the affair of Tempe I bent to you for the last time," Democrates +charged desperately. "I have counted the cost. Perhaps you can use against +me certain documents, but I am on a surer footing than once. In the last +year I have done such service to Hellas I can even hope to be forgiven, +should these old mistakes be proved. And if you drive me to bay, be sure +of this, I will see to it that all the dealings betwixt the Barbarian and +your noble self are expounded to your admiring countrymen." + +"You show truly excellent courage, dear Democrates," cried Lycon, in +pseudo-admiration. "That speech was quite worthy of a tragic actor." + +"If we're in the theatre, let the chorus sing its last strophe and have +done. You disgust me." + +"Peace, peace," ordered Lycon, his hand still on the Athenian's shoulder, +"I will make all the haste I can, but obstinacy is disagreeable. I repeat, +you are needed, sorely needed, by Mardonius to enable him to complete the +conquest of Hellas. You shall not call the Persians ungrateful--the tyranny +of Athens under the easy suzerainty of the king, is that no dish to whet +your appetite?" + +"I knew of the offer before." + +"A great pity you are not more eager. Hermes seldom sends such chances +twice. I hoped to have you for 'my royal brother' when they gave me the +like lordship of Lacedaemon. However, the matter does not end with your +refusal." + +"I have said, 'Do your worst.' " + +"And my worst is--Agis." + +For an instant Lycon was dismayed. He thought he had slain his victim with +one word. Democrates dropped from his clutch and upon the pavement as +though stricken through the heart by an arrow. He was pallid as a corpse, +at first he only groaned. + +"_Eu! eu!_ good comrade," cried the Spartan, dragging him up, half +triumphant, half sympathetic, "I did not know I was throwing Zeus's +thunderbolts." + +The Athenian sat with his head on his hands. In all his dealings with the +Spartan he had believed he had covered the details of the fate of Glaucon. +Lycon could surmise what he liked, but the proof to make the damning +charges good Democrates believed he had safe in his own keeping. Only one +man could have unlocked the casket of infamy--Agis--and the mention of his +name was as a bolt from the blue. + +"Where is he? I heard he was killed at Artemisium." Lycon hardly +understood his victim's thick whispers. + +"Wounded indeed, _philotate_, taken prisoner, and sent to Thebes. There +friends of mine found he had a story to tell--greatly to my advantage. It +is only a little time since he came to Sparta." + +"What lies has he told?" + +"Several, dear fellow, although if they are lies, then Aletheia, Lady +Truth, must almost own them for her children. At least they are +interesting lies; as, for example, how you advised the Cyprian to escape +from Athens, how you gave Agis a letter to hide in the boots of Glaucon's +messenger, of your interviews with Lampaxo and Archias, of the charming +art you possess of imitating handwritings and seals." + +"Base-born swine! who will believe him?" + +"Base born, Democrates, but hardly swinish. He can tell a very clear +story. Likewise, Lampaxo and Archias must testify at the trial, also your +slave Bias can tell many interesting things." + +"Only if I consent to produce him." + +"When did a master ever refuse to let his slave testify, if demanded, +unless he wished to blast his own cause with the jury? No, _makaire_, you +will not enjoy the day when Themistocles arrays the testimony against +you." + +Democrates shivered. The late spring sun was warm. He felt no heat. A mere +charge of treason he was almost prepared now to endure. If Mistress +Fortune helped him, he might refute it, but to be branded before Hellas as +the destroyer of his bosom friend, and that by guile the like whereof +Tantalus, Sisyphus, and Ixion conjoined had never wrought--what wonder his +knees smote together? Why had he not foreseen that Agis would fall into +Lycon's hands? Why had he trusted that lying tale from Artemisium? And +worst of all, worse than the howls of the people who would tear his body +asunder like dogs, not waiting the work of the hemlock, was the thought of +Hermione. She hated him now. How she would love him, though he sat on +Xerxes's throne, if once her suspicion rose to certainty! He saw himself +ruined in life and in love, and blazoned as infamous forever. + +Lycon was wise enough to sit some moments, letting his utterance do its +work. He was confident, and rightly. Democrates looked on him at last. The +workings of the Athenian's face were terrible. + +"I am your slave, Spartan. Had you bought me for ten minae and held the +bill of sale, I were not yours more utterly. Your wish?" + +Lycon chose his words and answered slowly. + +"You must serve Persia. Not for a moment, but for all time. You must place +that dreadful gift of yours at our disposal. And in return take what is +promised,--the lordship of Athens." + +"No word of that," groaned the wretched man, "what will you do?" + +"Aristeides is soon going to Sparta to press home his demands that the +Lacedaemonians march in full force against Mardonius. I can see to it that +his mission succeeds. A great battle will be fought in Boeotia. _We_ can +see to it that Mardonius is so victorious that all further resistance +becomes a dream." + +"And my part in this monster's work?" + +The demands and propositions with which Lycon answered this despairing +question will unfold themselves in due place and time. Suffice it here, +that when he let the Athenian go his way Lycon was convinced that +Democrates had bound himself heart and soul to forward his enterprise. The +orator was no merry guest for his Corinthian hosts that night. He returned +to his old manner of drinking unmixed wine. "Thirsty as a Macedonian!" +cried his companions, in vain endeavour to drive him into a laugh. They +did not know that once more the chorus of the Furies was singing about his +ears, and he could not still it by the deepest wine-cup. They did not know +that every time he closed his eyes he was seeing the face of Glaucon. That +morning he had mocked at Nemesis. That night he heard the beating of her +brazen wings. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXII + + + THE STRANGER IN TROEZENE + + +Despite exile, life had moved pleasantly for Hermippus's household that +spring. The Troezenians had surpassed all duties to Zeus Xenios--the +stranger's god--in entertaining the outcast Athenians. The fugitives had +received two obols per day to keep them in figs and porridge. Their +children had been suffered to roam and plunder the orchards. But Hermippus +had not needed such generosity. He had placed several talents at interest +in Corinth; likewise bonds of "guest-friendship" with prominent Troezenians +made his residence very agreeable. He had hired a comfortable house, and +could enjoy even luxury with his wife, daughter, young sons, and score of +slaves. + +Little Phoenix grew marvellously day by day, as if obeying his mother's +command to wax strong and avenge his father. Old Cleopis vowed he was the +healthiest, least tearful babe, as well as the handsomest, she had ever +known,--and she spoke from wide experience. When he was one year old, he +was so active they had to tie him in the cradle. When the golden spring +days came, he would ride forth upon his nurse's back, surveying the Hellas +he was born to inherit, and seeming to find it exceeding good. + +But as spring verged on summer, Hermione demanded so much of Cleopis's +care that even Phoenix ceased to be the focus of attention. The lordly +Alcmaeonid fell into the custody of one Niobe, a dark-haired lass of the +islands, who treated him well, but cared too much for certain young +"serving-gentlemen" to waste on her charge any unreciprocated adoration. +So on one day, just as the dying grass told the full reign of the Sun +King, she went forth with her precious bundle wriggling in her arms, but +her thoughts hardly on Master Phoenix. Procles the steward had been cold of +late, he had even cast sly glances at Jocasta, Lysistra's tiring-woman. +Mistress Niobe was ready--since fair means of recalling the fickle Apollo +failed--to resort to foul. Instead, therefore, of going to the promenade +over the sea, she went--burden and all--to the Agora, where she was sure old +Dion, who kept a soothsayer's shop, would give due assistance in return +for half a drachma. + +The market was just thinning. Niobe picked her way amongst the vegetable +women, fought off a boy who thrust on her a pair of geese, and found in a +quiet corner by a temple porch the booth of Dion, who grinned with his +toothless gums in way of greeting. He listened with paternal interest to +her story, soothed her when she sniffled at Procles's name, and made her +show her silver, then began pulling over his bags and vials of strange +powders and liquids. + +"Ah, kind Master Dion," began Niobe, for the sixth time, "if only some +philtre could make Procles loath that abominable Jocasta!" + +"_Eu! eu!_" muttered the old sinner, "it's hard to say what's best,--powder +of toad's bone or the mixture of wormwood and adder's fat. The safest +thing is to consult the god--" + +"What do you mean?" + +"Why, my holy cock here, hatched at Delphi with Apollo's blessings on +him." Dion pointed with his thumb to the small coop at his feet. "The +oracle is simple. You cast before him two piles of corn; if he picks at +the one to right we take toad's bone, to left the adder's fat. Heaven will +speak to us." + +"Excellent," cried Niobe, brightening. + +"But, of course, we must use only consecrated corn, that's two obols +more." + +Niobe's face fell. "I've only this half-drachma." + +"Then, _philotata_," said Dion, kindly but firmly, "we had better wait a +little longer." + +Niobe wept. "_Ai!_ woe. 'A little longer' and Jocasta has Procles. I can't +ask Hermione again for money. _Ai! ai!_" + +Two round tears did not move Dion in the slightest. Niobe was sobbing, at +her small wits' end, when a voice sounded behind her. + +"What's there wrong, lass? By Zeus, but you carry a handsome child!" + +Niobe glanced, and instantly stopped weeping. A young man dressed roughly +as a sailor, and with long black hair and beard, had approached her, but +despite dress and beard she was quite aware he was far handsomer than even +Procles. + +"I beg pardon, _kyrie_,"--she said "_kyrie_" by instinct,--"I'm only an +honest maid. Dion is terribly extortionate." She cast down her eyes, +expecting instant succour from the susceptible seaman, but to her disgust +she saw he was admiring only the babe, not herself. + +"Ah! Gods and goddesses, what a beautiful child! A girl?" + +"A boy," answered Niobe, almost sullenly. + +"Blessed the house in Troezene then that can boast of such a son." + +"Oh, he's not Troezenian, but one of the exiles from Athens," volunteered +Dion, who kept all the tittle-tattle of the little city in stock along +with his philtres. + +"An Athenian! Praised be Athena Polias, then. I am from Athens myself. And +his father?" + +"The brat will never boast of his father," quoth Dion, rolling his eyes. +"He left the world in a way, I wager five minae, the mother hopes she can +hide from her darling, but the babe's of right good stock, an Alcmaeonid, +and the grandfather is that Hermippus--" + +"Hermippus?" The stranger seemed to catch the word out of Dion's mouth. A +donkey had broken loose at the upper end of the Agora; he turned and +stared at it and its pursuers intently. + +"If you're Athenian," went on the soothsayer, "the story's an old one--of +Glaucon the Traitor." + +The stranger turned back again. For a moment Dion saw he was blinking, but +no doubt it was dust. Then he suddenly began to fumble in his girdle. + +"What do you want, girl?" he demanded of Niobe, nigh fiercely. + +"Two obols." + +"Take two drachmae. I was once a friend to that Glaucon, and traitor though +he has been blazed, his child is yet dear to me. Let me take him." + +Without waiting her answer he thrust the coin into her hands, and caught +the child out of them. Phoenix looked up into the strange, bearded face, +and deliberated an instant whether to crow or to weep. Then some friendly +god decided him. He laughed as sweetly, as musically, as ever one can at +his most august age. With both chubby hands he plucked at the black beard +and held tight. The strange sailor answered laugh with laugh, and released +himself right gayly. Then whilst Niobe and Dion watched and wondered they +saw the sailor kiss the child full fifty times, all the time whispering +soft words in his ear, at which Phoenix crowed and laughed yet more. + +"An old family servant," threw out Dion, in a whisper. + +"Sheep!" retorted the nurse, "do you call yourself wise? Do you think a +man with that face and those long hands ever felt the stocks or the whip? +He's gentleman born, by Demeter!" + +"War makes many changes," rejoined Dion. "_Ai!_ is he beside himself or a +kidnapper? He is walking off with the babe." + +The stranger indeed had seemed to forget them all and was going with swift +strides up the Agora, but just before Niobe could begin her outcry he +wheeled, and brought his merry burden back to the nurse's arms. + +"You ought to be exceeding proud, my girl," he remarked almost severely, +"to have such a precious babe in charge. I trust you are dutiful." + +"So I strive, _kyrie_, but he grows very strong. One cannot keep the +swaddling clothes on him now. They say he will be a mighty athlete like +his father." + +"Ah, yes--his father--" The sailor looked down. + +"You knew Master Glaucon well?" pressed Dion, itching for a new bit of +gossip. + +"Well," answered the sailor, standing gazing on the child as though +something held him fascinated, then shot another question. "And does the +babe's lady-mother prosper?" + +"She is passing well in body, _kyrie_, but grievously ill in mind. Hera +give her a release from all her sorrow!" + +"Sorrow?" The man's eyes were opening wider, wider. "What mean you?" + +"Why, all Troezene knows it, I'm sure." + +"I'm not from Troezene. My ship made port from Naxos this morning. Speak, +girl!" + +He seized Niobe's wrist in a grip which she thought would crush the bone. + +"_Ai!_ Let go, sir, you hurt. Don't stare so. I'm frightened. I'll tell as +fast as I can. Master Democrates has come back from Corinth. Hermippus is +resolved to make the _kyria_ wed him, however bitterly she resists. It's +taken a long time for her father to determine to break her will, but now +his mind's made up. The betrothal is in three days, the wedding ten days +thereafter." + +The sailor had dropped her hand. She shrank at the pallor of his face. He +seemed struggling for words; when they came she made nothing of them. + +"Themistocles, Themistocles--your promise!" + +Then by some giant exercise of will he steadied. His speech grew more +coherent. + +"Give me the child," he commanded, and Niobe mutely obeyed. He kissed +Phoenix on both cheeks, mouth, forehead. They saw that tears were running +down his bronzed face. He handed back the babe and again held out money,--a +coin for both the slave girl and the soothsayer,--gold half-darics, that +they gaped at wonderingly. + +"Say nothing!" ordered the sailor, "nothing of what I have said or done, +or as Helios shines this noon, I will kill you both." + +Not waiting reply, he went down the Agora at a run, and never looked back. +It took some moments for Dion and Niobe to recover their equanimity; they +would have believed it all a dream, but lo! in their hands gleamed the +money. + +"There are times," remarked the soothsayer, dubiously at last, "when I +begin to think the gods again walk the earth and work wonders. This is a +very high matter. Even I with my art dare not meddle with it. It is best +to heed the injunction to silence. Wagging tongues always have troubles as +their children. Now let us proceed with my sacred cock and his +divination." + +Niobe got her philtre,--though whether it reconquered Procles is not +contained in this history. Likewise, she heeded Dion's injunction. There +was something uncanny about the strange sailor; she hid away the +half-daric, and related nothing of her adventure even to her confidant +Cleopis. + + * * * * * * * + +Three days later Democrates was not drinking wine at his betrothal feast, +but sending this cipher letter by a swift and trusty "distance-runner" to +Sparta. + +"Democrates to Lycon, greeting:--At Corinth I cursed you. Rejoice +therefore; you are my only hope. I am with you whether your path leads to +Olympus or to Hades. Tartarus is opened at my feet. You must save me. My +words are confused, do you think? Then hear this, and ask if I have not +cause for turning mad. + +"Yesterday, even as Hermippus hung garlands on his house, and summoned the +guests to witness the betrothal contract, Themistocles returned suddenly +from Euboea. He called Hermippus and myself aside. '_Glaucon lives_,' he +said, 'and with the god's help we'll prove his innocence.' Hermippus at +once broke off the betrothal. No one else knows aught thereof, not even +Hermione. Themistocles refuses all further details. 'Glaucon lives,'--I can +think of nothing else. Where is he? What does he? How soon will the awful +truth go flying through Hellas? I trembled when I heard he was dead. But +name my terrors now I know he is alive! Send Hiram. He, if any snake +living, can find me my enemy before it is too late. And speed the victory +of Mardonius! _Chaire._" + +"Glaucon lives." Democrates had only written one least part of his +terrors. Two words--but enough to make the orator the most miserable man in +Hellas, the most supple of Xerxes's hundred million slaves. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIII + + + WHAT BEFELL ON THE HILLSIDE + + +Once more the Persians pressed into Attica, once more the Athenians,--or +such few of them as had ventured home in the winter,--fled with their +movables to Salamis or Peloponnesus, and an embassy, headed by Aristeides, +hastened to Sparta to demand for the last time that the tardy ephors make +good their promise in sending forth their infantry to hurl back the +invader. If not, Aristeides spoke plainly, his people must perforce close +alliance with Mardonius. + +Almost to the amazement of the Athenian chiefs, so accustomed were they to +Dorian doltishness and immobility, after a ten days' delay and excuses +that "they must celebrate their festival the Hyacinthia," the ephors +called forth their whole levy. Ten thousand heavy infantrymen with a host +of lightly armed "helots"(11) were started northward under the able lead +of Pausanias, the regent for Leonidas's young son. Likewise all the allies +of Lacedaemon--Corinthians, Sicyonians, Elians, Arcadians--began to hurry +toward the Isthmus. Therefore men who had loved Hellas and had almost +despaired for her took courage. "At last we will have a great land battle, +and an end to the Barbarian." + +All was excitement in the Athenian colony at Troezene. The board of +strategi met and voted that now was the time for a crowning effort. Five +thousand men-at-arms should march under Aristeides to join against +Mardonius in Boeotia. By sea Themistocles should go with every available +ship to Delos, meet the allied squadrons there, and use his infallible art +in persuading the sluggish Spartan high admiral to conduct a raid across +the AEgean at Xerxes's own doors. Of the ten strategi Democrates had called +loudest for instant action, so loudly indeed that Themistocles had +cautioned him against rashness. Hermippus was old, but experienced men +trusted him, therefore he was appointed to command the contingent of his +tribe. Democrates was to accompany Aristeides as general adjutant; his +diplomatic training would be invaluable in ending the frictions sure to +arise amongst the allies. Cimon would go with Themistocles, and so every +other man was sent to his place. In the general preparation private +problems seemed forgotten. Hermippus and Democrates both announced that +the betrothal of Hermione had been postponed, pending the public crisis. +The old Eleusinian had not told his daughter, or even his wife, why he had +seemed to relax his announced purpose of forcing Hermione to an unwelcome +marriage. The young widow knew she had respite--for how long nothing told +her, but for every day her agony was postponed she blessed kind Hera. Then +came the morning when her father must go forth with his men. She still +loved him, despite the grief he was giving her. She did him justice to +believe he acted in affection. The gay ribbons that laced his cuirass, the +red and blue embroidery that edged his "taxiarch's" cloak, were from the +needle of his daughter. Hermione kissed him as she stood with her mother +in the aula. He coughed gruffly when he answered their "farewell." The +house door closed behind him, and Hermione and Lysistra ran into one +another's arms. They had given to Hellas their best, and now must look to +Athena. + +Hermippus and Aristeides were gone, Democrates remained in Troezene. His +business, he said, was more diplomatic than military, and he was expecting +advices from the islands which he must take to Pausanias in person. He had +a number of interviews with Themistocles, when it was observed that every +time he came away with clouded brow and gruff answers to all who accosted. +It began to be hinted that all was not as well as formerly between the +admiral and the orator, that Democrates had chosen to tie too closely to +Aristeides for the son of Neocles's liking, and that as soon as the +campaign was decided, a bitter feud would break out betwixt them. But this +was merest gossip. Outwardly Democrates and Themistocles continued +friends, dined together, exchanged civilities. On the day when +Themistocles was to sail for Delos he walked arm in arm with Democrates to +the quay. The hundreds of onlookers saw him embrace the young strategus in +a manner belying any rumour of estrangement, whilst Democrates stood on +the sand waving his good wishes until the admiral climbed the ladder of +the _Nausicaae_. + +It was another day and landscape which the stranger in Hellas would have +remembered long. The haven of Troezene, noblest in Peloponnesus, girt by +its two mountain promontories, Methana and the holy hill Calauria, opened +its bright blue into the deeper blue of the Saronic bay. Under the eye of +the beholder AEgina and the coasts of Attica stood forth, a fit frame to +the far horizon. Sun, sea, hills, and shore wrought together to make one +glorious harmony, endless variety, yet ordered and fashioned into a divine +whole. "Euopis," "The Fair-Faced," the beauty-loving dwellers of the +country called it, and they named aright. + +Something of the beauty touched even Hermione as she stood on the hill +slope, gazing across the sea. Only Cleopis was with her. The young widow +had less trembling when she looked on the _Nausicaae_ than when one year +before the stately trireme had sailed for Artemisium. If ill news must +come, it would be from the plains of Boeotia. Most of Themistocles's fleet +was already at Delos. He led only a dozen sail. When his squadron glided +on into the blue deep, the haven seemed deserted save for the Carthaginian +trader that swung at her cables close upon the land. As Hermione looked +and saw the climbing sun change the tintings of the waters, here spreading +a line of green gold amidst the blue, here flashing the waves with dark +violet, something of the peace and majesty of the scene entered into her +own breast. The waves at the foot of the slope beat in monotonous music. +She did not wonder that Thetis, Galatea, and all the hundred Nereids loved +their home. Somewhere, far off on that shimmering plain, Glaucon the +Beautiful had fallen asleep; whether he waked in the land of Rhadamanthus, +whether he had been stolen away by Leucothea and the other nymphs to be +their playfellow, she did not know. She was not sad, even to think of him +crowned with green seaweed, and sitting under the sea-floor with +fish-tailed Tritons at their tables of pearl, while the finny shoals like +birds flitted above their heads. Thales the Sage made all life proceed out +of the sea. Perchance all life should return to it. Then she would find +her husband again, not beyond, but within the realms of great Oceanus. +With such beauty spreading out before her eyes the phantasy was almost +welcome. + +The people had wandered homeward. Cleopis set the parasol on the dry grass +where it would shade her mistress and betook herself to the shelter of a +rock. If Hermione was pleased to meditate so long, she would not deny her +slave a siesta. So the Athenian sat and mused, now sadly, now with a gleam +of brightness, for she was too young to have her sun clouded always. + +A speaker near by her called her out of her reverie. + +"You sit long, _kyria_, and gaze forth as if you were Zeus in Olympus and +could look on all the world." + +Hermione had not exchanged a word with Democrates since that day she cast +scorn on him on that other hill slope at Munychia, but this did not make +his intrusion more welcome. With mortification she realized that she had +forgotten herself. That she lay on the sunny bank with her feet +outstretched and her hair shaken loose on her shoulders. Her feet she +instantly covered with her long himation. Her hands flew instantly to her +hair. Then she uprose, flushing haughtily. + +"It has pleased my father, sir," she spoke with frigid dignity, "to tell +me that you are some day perchance to be my husband. The fulfilment lies +with the gods. But to-day the strategus Democrates knows our customs too +well to thrust himself upon an Attic gentlewoman who finds herself alone +save for one servant." + +"Ah, _kyria_; pardon the word, it's overcold; _makaira_, I'd say more +gladly," Democrates was marvellously at his ease despite her frowns, "your +noble father will take nothing amiss if I ask you to sit again that we may +talk together." + +"I do not think so." Hermione drew herself up at full height. But +Democrates deliberately placed himself in the path up the hillside. To +have run toward the water seemed folly. She could expect no help from +Cleopis, who would hardly oppose a man soon probably to be her master. As +the less of evils, Hermione did not indeed sit as desired, but stood +facing her unloved lover and hearkening. + +"How long I've desired this instant!" Democrates looked as if he might +seize her hands to kiss them, but she thrust them behind her. "I know you +hate me bitterly because, touching your late husband, I did my duty." + +"Your duty?" Nestor's eloquence was in her incredulous echo. + +"If I have pained you beyond telling, do you think my act was a pleasant +one for me? A bosom friend to ruin, the most sacred bonds to sever, last +and not least, to give infinite sorrow to her I love?" + +"I hardly understand." + +Democrates drew a step nearer. + +"Ah! Hera, Artemis, Aphrodite the Golden--by what name shall I call my +goddess?" Hermione drew back a step. There was danger in his eyes. "I have +loved you, loved you long. Before Glaucon took you in marriage I loved +you. But Eros and Hymen hearkened to his prayers, not mine. You became his +bride. I wore a bright face at your wedding. You remember I was Glaucon's +groomsman, and rode beside you in the bridal car. You loved him, he seemed +worthy of you. Therefore I trod my own grief down into my heart, and +rejoiced with my friends. But to cease loving you I could not. Truly they +say Eros is the strongest god, and pitiless--do not the poets say bloody +Ares begat him--" + +"Spare me mythologies," interposed Hermione, with another step back. + +"As you will, but you shall hearken. I have desired this moment for two +years. Not as the weak girl given by her father, but as the fair goddess +who comes to me gladly, I do desire you. And I know you will smile on me +when you have heard me through." + +"Keep back your eloquence. You have destroyed Glaucon. That is enough." + +"Hear me." Democrates cried desperately now. Hermione feared even to +retreat farther, lest he pass to violence. She summoned courage and looked +him in the eye. + +"Say on, then. But remember I am a woman and alone save for Cleopis. If +you profess to love me, you will not forget that." + +But Democrates was passing almost beyond the limits of coherent speech. + +"Oh, when you come to me, you will not know what a price I have paid for +you. In Homer's day men wooed their wives with costly gifts, but I--have I +not paid for you with my soul? My soul, I say--honour, friendship, country, +what has weighed against Himeros, 'Master Desire,'--the desire ever for +you!" + +She hardly understood him, his speech flowed so thick. She knew he was on +the edge of reason, and feared to answer lest she drive beyond it. + +"Do you hear the price I have paid? Do you still look on in cold hate, +lady? Ah, by Zeus, even in your coldest, most forbidding mood you are fair +as the Paphian when she sprang above the sea! And I will win you, lady, I +will win your heart, for they shall do you homage, even all Athens, and I +will make you a queen. Yes! the house of Athena on the Acropolis shall be +your palace if you will, and they will cry in the Agora, 'Way, way for +Hermione, glorious consort of Democrates our king!' " + +"Sir," spoke Hermione, while her hands grew chill, for now she was sure he +raved, "I have not the joy to comprehend. There is no king in Athens, +please Athena, there never will be. Treason and blasphemy you speak all in +one." She sought vainly with her eyes for refuge. None in sight. The hill +slope seemed empty save for the scattered brown boulders. Far away a goat +was wandering. She motioned to Cleopis. The old woman was staring now, and +doubtless thought Democrates was carrying his familiarities too far, but +she was a weak creature, and at best could only scream. + +"Treason and blasphemy," cried Democrates, dropping on his knees, his +frame shaking with dishonest passion, "yes! call them so now. They will be +blessed truth for me in a month, for me, for you. Hermes the Trickster is +a mighty god. He has befriended Eros. I shall possess Athens and possess +you. I shall be the most fortunate mortal upon earth as now I am most +miserable. Ah! but I have waited so long." He sprang to his feet. "Tarry, +_makaira_, tarry! A kiss!" + +Hermione screamed at last shrilly and turned to fly. Instantly Democrates +was upon her. In that fluttering white dress escape was hopeless. + +"Apollo pursuing Daphne!"--his crazed shout as his arms closed around +her,--"but Daphne becomes no laurel this time. Her race is lost. She shall +pay the forfeit." + +She felt him seize her girdle. He swung her face to face. She saw his wide +eyes, his mad smile. His hot breath smote her cheek. Cleopis at last was +screaming. + +"Mine," he triumphed, while he forced her resisting head to his own, +"there is none to hinder!" + +But even while the woman's flesh crept back at his impure kiss, a giant +power came rending the twain apart. A man had sundered them, sprung from +the ground or from heaven belike, or from behind a boulder? He tore +Democrates's hands away as a lion tears a lamb. He dashed the mad orator +prone upon the sod, and kicked him twice, as of mingled hatred and +contempt. All this Hermione only knew in half, while her senses swam. Then +she came to herself enough to see that the stranger was a young man in a +sailor's loose dress, his features almost hidden under the dishevelled +hair and beard. All this time he uttered no word, but having smitten +Democrates down, leaped back, rubbing his hands upon his thigh, as if +despising to touch so foul an object. The orator groaned, staggered +upward. He wore a sword. It flew from its scabbard as he leaped on the +sailor. The stranger put forth his hand, snatched his opponent's wrist, +and with lightning dexterity sent the blade spinning back upon the grass. +Then he threw Democrates a second time, and the latter did not rise again +hastily, but lay cursing. The fall had not been gentle. + +But all this while Cleopis was screaming. People were hastening up the +hill,--fishermen from a skiff upon the beach, slaves who had been carrying +bales to the haven. In a moment they would be surrounded by a dozen. The +strange sailor turned as if to fly. He had not spoken one word. Hermione +herself at last called to him. + +"My preserver! Your name! Blessed be you forever!" + +The fisherfolk were very close. Cleopis was still screaming. The sailor +looked once into the lady's eyes. + +"I am nameless! You owe me nothing!" And with that he was gone up the hill +slopes, springing with long bounds that would have mocked pursuing, had +any attempted. But Cleopis quenched her outcry instantly; her screams had +been drowned by a louder scream from Hermione, who fell upon the +greensward, no marble whiter than her face. The nurse ran to her mistress. +Democrates staggered to his feet. Whatever else the chastisement had given +him, it had restored his balance of mind. He told the fisherfolk a glib +story that a sailor wandering along the strand had accosted Hermione, that +he himself had chased the villain off, but had tripped whilst trying to +follow. If the tale was not of perfect workmanship at all points, there +was no one with interest to gainsay it. A few ran up the hill slope, but +the sailor was nowhere in sight. Hermione was still speechless. They made +a litter of oars and sail-cloth and carried her to her mother. Democrates +oiled Cleopis's palm well, that she should tell nothing amiss to Lysistra. +It was a long time before Hermione opened her eyes in her chamber. Her +first words were:-- + +"Glaucon! I have seen Glaucon!" + +"You have had a strange dream, _philotata_," soothed Lysistra, shifting +the pillows, "lie still and rest." + +But Hermione shook her shining brown head and repeated, many times:-- + +"No dream! No dream! I have seen Glaucon face to face. In that instant he +spoke and looked on me I knew him. He lives. He saved me. Ah! why does he +stay away?" + +Lysistra, whose husband had not deemed it prudent to inform her of +Themistocles's revelations, was infinitely distressed. She sent for the +best physicians of the city, and despatched a slave to the temple of +Asclepius at Epidaurus--not distant--to sacrifice two cocks for her +daughter's recovery. The doctors looked wise and recommended heavy doses +of spiced wine, and if those did not suffice, said that the patient might +spend a night in the temple of the Healer, who would no doubt explain the +true remedy in a dream. A "wise woman" who had great following among the +slaves advised that a young puppy be tied upon Hermione's temples to +absorb the disaffection of her brain. Lysistra was barely persuaded not to +follow her admonitions. After a few days the patient grew better, +recovered strength, took an interest in her child. Yet ever and anon she +would repeat over Phoenix's cradle:-- + +"Your father lives! I have seen him! I have seen him!" + +What, however, puzzled Lysistra most, was the fact that Cleopis did not +contradict her young mistress in the least, but maintained a mysterious +silence about the whole adventure. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIV + + + THE LOYALTY OF LAMPAXO + + +The night after his adventure on the hill slope Democrates received in his +chambers no less an individual than Hiram. That industrious Phoenician had +been several days in Troezene, occupied in a manner he and his superior +discreetly kept to themselves. The orator had a bandage above one eye, +where a heavy sandal had kicked him. He was exceedingly pale, and sat in +the arm-chair propped with pillows. That he had awaited Hiram eagerly, +betrayed itself by the promptness with which he cut short the inevitable +salaam. + +"Well, my dear rascal, have you found him?" + +"May it please your Excellency to hearken to even the least of your +slaves?" + +"Do you hear, fox?--have you found him?" + +"My Lord shall judge for himself." + +"Cerberus eat you, fellow,--though you'd be a poisonous mouthful,--tell your +story in as few words as possible. I _know_ that he is lurking about +Troezene." + +"Compassion, your Lordship, compassion,"--Hiram seemed washing his hands in +oil, they waved so soothingly--"if your Benignity will grant it, I have a +very worthy woman here who, I think, can tell a story that will be +interesting." + +"In with her, then." + +The person Hiram escorted into the room proved to be no more nor less than +Lampaxo. Two years had not removed the wrinkles from her cheek, the +sharpness from her nose, the rasping from her tongue. At sight of her +Democrates half rose from his seat and held out his hand affably, the +demagogue's instinct uppermost. + +"Ah! my good dame, whom do I recognize? Are you not the wife of our +excellent fishmonger, Phormio? A truly sterling man, and how, pray, is +your good husband?" + +"Poorly, poorly, _kyrie_." Lampaxo looked down and fumbled her dirty +chiton. Such condescension on the part of a magnate barely less than +Themistocles or Aristeides was overpowering. + +"Poorly? I grieve to learn it. I was informed that he was comfortably +settled here until it was safe to return to Attica, and had even opened a +prosperous stall in the market-place." + +"Of course, _kyrie_; and the trade, considering the times, is not so +bad--Athena be praised--and he's not sick in body. It's worse, far worse. I +was even on the point of going to your Lordship to state my misgivings, +when your good friend, the Phoenician, fell into my company, and I found he +was searching for the very thing I wanted to reveal." + +"Ah!" Democrates leaned forward and battled against his impatience,--"and +what is the matter wherein I can be of service to so deserving a citizen +as your husband?" + +"I fear me,"--Lampaxo put her apron dutifully to her face and began to +sniff,--"your Excellency won't call him 'deserving' any more. Hellas knows +your Excellency is patriotism itself. The fact is Phormio has 'Medized.' " + +"Medized!" The orator started as became an actor. "Gods and goddesses! +what trust is in men if Phormio the Athenian has Medized?" + +"Hear my story, _mu! mu!_" groaned Lampaxo. "It's a terrible thing to +accuse one's own husband, but duty to Hellas is duty. Your Excellency is a +merciful man, if he could only warn Phormio in private." + +"Woman,"--Democrates pulled his most consequential frown,--"Medizing is +treason. On your duty as a daughter of Athens I charge you tell +everything, then rely on my wisdom." + +"Certainly, _kyrie_, certainly," gasped Lampaxo, and so she began a +recital mingled with many moans and protestations, which Democrates dared +not bid her hasten. + +The good woman commenced by reminding the strategus how he had visited her +and her brother Polus to question them as to the doings of the Babylonish +carpet merchant, and how it had seemed plain to them that Glaucon was +nothing less than a traitor. Next she proceeded to relate how her husband +had enabled the criminal to fly by sea, and her own part therein--for she +loudly accused herself of treason in possessing a guilty knowledge of the +outlaw's manner of escape. As for Bias, he had just now gone on a message +to Megara, but Democrates would surely castigate his own slave. "Still," +wound up Lampaxo, "the traitor seemed drowned, and his treason locked up +in Phorcys's strong box, and so I said nothing about him. More's the +pity." + +"The more reason for concealing nothing now." + +"Zeus strike me if I keep back anything. It's now about ten days since +_he_ returned." + +" 'He?' Whom do you mean?" + +"It's not overeasy to tell, _kyrie_. He calls himself Critias, and wears a +long black beard and tangled hair. Phormio brought him home one +evening--said he was the _proreus_ of a Melian trireme caulking at +Epidaurus, but was once in the fish trade at Peiraeus and an old friend. I +told Phormio we had enough these days to fill our own bellies, but my +husband would be hospitable. I had to bring out my best honey cakes. Your +Lordship knows I take just pride in my honey cakes." + +"Beyond doubt,"--Democrates's hand twitched with impatience,--"but tell of +the stranger." + +"At once, _kyrie_; well, we all sat down to sup. Phormio kept pressing +wine on the fellow as if we had not only one little jar of yellow Rhodian +in the cellar. All the time the sailor barely spoke a few words of island +Doric, but my heart misgave. He seemed so refined, so handsome. And near +the roots of his hair it was not so dark--as if dyed and needing renewal. +Trust a woman's eyes for that. When supper was over Phormio orders me, 'Up +the ladder and to bed. I'll come shortly, but leave a blanket and pillow +for our friend who sleeps on the hearth.' Your Excellency knows we hired a +little house on the 'Carpenter's Street,' very reasonably you will +grant--only half a minae for the winter. I gave the stranger a fine pillow +and a blanket embroidered by Stephanium, she was my great-aunt, and left +it to me by will, and the beautiful red wool was from Byzantium--" + +"But you spoke of Critias?" Democrates could scarce keep upon his seat. + +"Yes, _kyrie_. Well, I warned Phormio not to give him any more wine. Then +I went up the ladder. O Mother Demeter, how sharply I listened, but the +rascals spoke too low together for me to catch anything, save that Critias +had dropped his Doric and spoke good Attic now. At last Phormio came up to +me, and I pretended to snore. In the morning, lo! the scoundrelly stranger +had slipped away. In the evening he returns late. Phormio harbours him +again. So for several nights, coming late, going early. Then to-night he +comes a bit before his wont. He and Phormio drank more than common. After +Phormio sent me away, they talked a long time and in louder voice." + +"You overheard?" Democrates gripped his arm-chair. + +"Yes, _kyrie_, blessed be Athena! The stranger spoke pure Attic such as +your Excellency might use. Many times I heard Hermione named, and yourself +once--" + +"And how?" + +"The stranger said: 'So she will not wed Democrates. She loathes him. +Aphrodite shed joy on her forever.' Then Phormio answered him, 'Therefore, +dear Glaucon, you should trust the gods a little longer.' " + +" 'Glaucon,' said he?" Democrates leaped from the chair. + +" 'Glaucon,' on my oath by the Styx. Then I covered my head and wept. I +knew my husband harboured the arch-traitor. Heaven can tell how he escaped +the sea. As soon as Phormio was sleeping snug beside me, I went down the +ladder, intending to call the watch. In the street I met a man, this good +Phoenician here,--he explained he was suspecting this 'Critias' himself, and +lurked about in hopes of tracing him in the morning. I told my story. He +said it was best to come straight to you. And now I have accused my own +husband, Excellency. _Ai!_ was wife ever harder beset? Phormio is a kindly +and commonly obedient man, even if he doesn't know the value of an obol. +You will be merciful--" + +"Peace," commanded Democrates, with portentous gravity, "justice first, +mercy later. Do you solemnly swear you heard Phormio call this stranger +'Glaucon'?" + +"Yes, _kyrie_. Woe! woe!" + +"And you say he is now asleep in your house?" + +"Yes, the wine has made them both very heavy." + +"You have done well." Democrates extended his hand again. "You are a +worthy daughter of Athens. In years to come they will name you with King +Codrus who sacrificed his life for the freedom of Attica, for have you not +sacrificed what should be dearer than life,--the fair name of your husband? +But courage. Your patriotism may extenuate his crime. Only the traitor +must be taken." + +"Yes, he was breathing hard when I went out. Ah! seize him quickly." + +"Retire," commanded Democrates, with a flourish; "leave me to concert with +this excellent Hiram the means of thwarting I know not what gross +villany." + +The door had hardly closed behind Lampaxo, when Democrates fell as a heap +into the cushions. He was ashen and palsied. + +"Courage, master,"--Hiram was drawing a suggestive finger across his +throat,--"the woman's tale is true metal. Critias shall sleep snug and +sweetly to-night, if perchance too soundly." + +"What will you do?" shrieked the wretched man. + +"The thing is marvellously simple, master. The night is not yet old. +Hasdrubal and his crew of Carthaginians are here and by the grace of Baal +can serve you. This cackling hen will guide us to the house. Heaven has +put your enemy off his guard. He and Phormio will never wake to feel their +throats cut. Then a good stone on each foot takes the corpses down in the +harbour." + +But Democrates dashed his hand in negation. + +"No, by the infernal gods, not so! No murder. I cannot bear the curse of +the Furies. Seize him, carry him to the ends of the earth, to hardest +slavery. Let him never cross my path again. But no bloodshed--" + +Hiram almost lost his never failing smile, so much he marvelled. + +"But, your Lordship, the man is a giant, mighty as Melkarth.(12) Seizing +will be hard. Sheol is the safest prison." + +"No." Democrates was still shaking. "His ghost came to me a thousand +times, though yet he lived. It would hound me mad if I murdered him." + +"_You_ would not murder him. Your slave is not afflicted by dreams." +Hiram's smile was extremely insinuating. + +"Don't quibble with words. It would be I who slew him, though I never +struck the blow. You can seize him. Is he not asleep? Call Hasdrubal--bind +Glaucon, gag him, drag him to the ship. But he must not die." + +"Very good, Excellency." Hiram seldom quarrelled to no purpose with his +betters. "Let your Lordship deign to leave this small matter to his slave. +By Baal's favour Hasdrubal and six of his crew sleep on shore to-night. +Let us pray they be not deep in wine. Wait for me one hour, perhaps two, +and your heart and liver shall be comforted." + +"Go, go! I will wait and pray to Hermes Dolios." + +Hiram even now did not forget his punctilious salaam before departing. +Never had he seemed more the beautiful serpent with the shining scales +than the instant he bent gracefully at Democrates's feet, the red light +falling on his gleaming ear and nose rings, his smooth brown skin and +beady eyes. The door turned on its pivots--closed. Democrates heard the +retiring footsteps. No doubt the Phoenician was taking Lampaxo with him. +The Athenian staggered across the room to his bed and flung himself on it, +laughing hysterically. How absolutely his enemy was delivered into his +hands! How the Morae in sending that Carthaginian ship, to do Lycon's +business and his, had provided the means of ridding him of the haunting +terror! How everything conspired to aid him! He need not even kill +Glaucon. He would have no blood guiltiness, he need not dread Alecto and +her sister Furies. He could trust Hiram and Hasdrubal to see to it that +Glaucon never returned to plague him. And Hermione? Democrates laughed +again. He was almost frightened at his own glee. + +"A month, my nymph, a month, and you and your dear father, yes, +Themistocles himself, will be in no state to answer me 'nay,'--though +Glaucon come to claim you." + +Thus he lay a long time, while the drip, drip from the water-clock in the +corner told how the night was passing. The lamp flickered and burned +lower. He never knew the hours to creep so slowly. + + * * * * * * * + +At last, a knock; Scodrus, the yawning valet, ushering in a black and +bearded sailor, who crouched eastern fashion at the feet of the strategus. + +"You have seized him?" + +"Blessed be Moloch, Baal, and Melkarth! They have poured sleep upon my +Lord's enemy." The sailor's Greek was harsh and execrable. "Your servants +did even as commanded. The woman let us in. The young man my Lord hates +was bound and gagged almost ere he could waken, likewise the fishmonger +was seized." + +"Bravely done. I never forget good service. And the woman?" + +"She is retained likewise. I have hastened hither to learn the further +will of my Lord." + +Democrates arose hastily. + +"My himation, staff, and shoes, boy!" he ordered. "I will go forth myself. +The prisoners are still at the fishmonger's house?" + +"Even so, Excellency." + +"I go back with you. I must see this stranger with my own eyes. There must +be no mistake." + +Scodrus stared widely when he saw his master go out into the dark, for his +only escort a black Carthaginian sailor with a dirk a cubit long. +Democrates did not even ask for a lantern. None of the servants could +fathom their master's doings of late. He gave strappings when they asked +questions, and Bias was away. + +The streets of Troezene were utterly deserted when Democrates threaded +them. There was no moon, neither he nor his companion were overcertain of +the way. Once they missed the right turn, wandered down a blind alley, and +plunged into a pile of offal awaiting the scavenger dogs. But finally the +seaman stopped at a low door in a narrow street, and a triple rap made it +open. The scene was squalid. A rush-candle was burning on a table. Around +it squatted seven men who rose and bowed as the strategus entered. In the +dim flicker he could just recognize the burly shipmaster Hasdrubal and +gigantic Hib, the Libyan "governor," whose ebon face betrayed itself even +there. + +"We have expected you, _kyrie_," said Hiram, who was one of the group. + +"Thanks be to Hermes and to you all. I have told my guide already I will +be grateful. Where is he?" + +"In the kitchen behind, your Lordship. We were singularly favoured. Hib +had the cord around his arms before he wakened. He could scarcely struggle +despite his power. The fishmonger awoke before Hasdrubal could nip him. +For a moment we feared his outcries would rouse the street. But again the +gods blessed us. No one stirred, and we soon throttled him." + +"Take the light," ordered Democrates. "Come." + +Accompanied by Hiram, the orator entered the kitchen, a small square room. +The white-washed ceiling was blacked around the smoke-hole, a few pots and +pans lay in the corners, a few dying embers gleamed on the hearth. But +Democrates had eyes only for two objects,--human figures tightly bound +lying rigid as faggots in the further corner. + +"Which is he?" asked Democrates again, stepping softly as though going to +danger. + +"The further one is Phormio, the nearer is my Lord's enemy. Your +Excellency need not fear to draw close. He is quite secure." + +"Give me the candle." + +Democrates held the light high and trod gently over to the prostrate men. +Hiram spoke rightly that his victim was secure. They had lashed him hand +and foot, using small chains in lieu of cords. A bit of wood had been +thrust into his mouth and tied with twine under the ears. Democrates stood +an instant looking down, then very deliberately knelt beside the prisoner +and moved the candle closer. He could see now the face hidden half by the +tangled black hair and beard and the gag--but who could doubt it?--the deep +blue eye, the chiselled profile, the small, fine lips, yes, and the +godlike form visible in its comeliness despite the bands. He was gazing +upon the man who two years ago had called him "bosom-friend." + +The prisoner looked straight upward. The only thing he could move was his +eyes, and these followed Democrates's least motion. The orator pressed the +candle closer yet. He even put out his hand, and touched the face to brush +away the hair. A long look--and he was satisfied. No mistake was possible. +Democrates arose and stood over the prisoner, then spoke aloud. + +"Glaucon, I have played at dice with Fortune. I have conquered. I did not +ruin you willingly. There was no other way. A man must first be a friend +to himself, and then friendly to others. I have cast in my lot with the +Persians. It was I who wrote that letter which blasted you at Colonus. +Very soon there will be a great battle fought in Boeotia. Lycon and I will +make it certain that Mardonius conquers. I am to be tyrant of Athens. +Hermione shall be my wife." The workings of the prisoner's face made +Democrates wince; from Glaucon's throat came rattlings, his eyes were +terrible. But the other drove recklessly forward. "As for you, you pass +this night out of my life. How you escaped the sea I know not and care +less. Hasdrubal will take you to Carthage, and sell you into the interior +of Libya. I wish you no misery, only you go where you shall never see +Hellas again. I am merciful. Your life is in my hands. But I restore it. I +am without blood guiltiness. What I have done you would have done, had you +loved as I--had you been under necessity as I. Eros is a great god, but +Anangke, Dame Necessity, is yet mightier. So to-night we part--farewell." + +A strong spasm passed through the prisoner's frame. For a moment +Democrates thought the bonds would snap. Too strong. The orator swung on +his heel and returned to the outer room. + +"The night wanes, _kyrie_," remarked Hasdrubal; "if these good people are +to be taken to the ship, it must be soon." + +"As you will. I do nothing more concerning them." + +"Fetch down the woman," ordered Hasdrubal; in the mongrel Greek current +amongst Mediterranean sea-folk. Two of his seamen ascended the ladder and +returned with Lampaxo, who smirked and simpered at sight of Democrates and +bobbed him a courtesy. + +"The traitor is seized, your Excellency. I hope your Excellency will see +that he drinks hemlock. You will be merciful to my poor husband, even if +he must be arrested for the night. Gods and goddesses! what are these men +doing to me?" + +A stalwart Carthaginian was in the act of knotting a cord around the good +woman's arms preparatory to pinioning them. + +"_Kyrie! kyrie!_" she screamed, "they are binding me, too! Me--the most +loyal woman in Attica." + +Democrates scowled and turned his back on her. + +"Your Lordship surely intended this woman to be taken also," suggested +Hiram, sweetly. "It cannot be he will leave such a dangerous witness at +large." + +"Of course not. Off with her!" + +"_Kyrie! kyrie!_" was her shriek, but quickly ended, for Hasdrubal knitted +his fingers around her throat. + +"A gag," he ordered, and with a few more struggles Lampaxo stood helpless +and silent. + +A little later the band was threading its stealthy way down the black +streets. Four of the Carthaginians carried Glaucon, slung hands and feet +over a pole. They dared not trust him on his feet. Phormio and Lampaxo +walked, closely pinioned and pricked on by the captain's dagger. They were +soon at the deserted strand, and their ship's pinnace lay upon the beach. +Democrates accompanied them as far as the dark marge, and watched while +the boat glided out into the gloom of the haven. The orator paced homeward +alone. Everything had favoured him. He had even cleared himself of the +curse of the Furies and the pursuit of Nemesis. He had, he congratulated +himself, shown marvellous qualities of mercy. Glaucon lived? Yes--but the +parching sand-plains of Libya would be as fast a prison as the grave, and +the life of a slave in Africa was a short one. Glaucon had passed from his +horizon forever. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXV + + + MOLOCH BETRAYS THE PHOENICIAN + + +Even whilst the boat pulled out to the trader, Hiram suggested that since +his superior's "unfortunate scruples" forbade them to shed blood, at least +they could disable the most dangerous captive by putting out his eyes. But +Hasdrubal, thrifty Semite, would not hearken. + +"Is not the fellow worth five hundred shekels in the Carthage market?--but +who will give two for a blind dog?" + +And once at the ship the prisoners were stowed in the hold so securely +that even Hiram ceased to concern himself. In the morning some of the +neighbours indeed wondered at Phormio's closed door and the silence of the +jangling voice of Lampaxo; but the fishmonger was after all an exile, and +might have returned suddenly to Attica, now the Persians had retreated +again to Boeotia, and before these surmises could change to misdoubting, +the _Bozra_ was bearing forth into the AEgean. + +The business of Hasdrubal with the _Bozra_ at Troezene appeared simple. The +war had disturbed the Greek harvests. He had come accordingly with a cargo +of African corn, and was taking a light return lading of olive oil and +salt fish. But those who walked along the harbour front remarked that the +_Bozra_ was hardly a common merchantman. She was a "sea-mouse," long, +shallow, and very fast under sail; she also carried again an unwontedly +heavy crew. When Hasdrubal's cargo seemed completed, he lingered a couple +of days, alleging he was repairing a cable; then the third morning after +his nocturnal adventure a cipher letter to Democrates sent the +Carthaginian to sea. The letter went thus:-- + +"Lycon, in the camp of the Greeks in Boeotia, to Democrates in Troezene, +greeting:--The armies have now faced many days. The soothsayers declare +that the aggressor is sure to be defeated, still there has been some +skirmishing in which your Athenians slew Masistes, Mardonius's chief of +cavalry. This, however, is no great loss to us. Your presence with +Aristeides is now urgently needed. Send Hasdrubal and Hiram at once to +Asia with the papers we arranged in Corinth. Come yourself with speed to +the army. Ten days and this merry dice-throwing is ended. _Chaire!_" + +Democrates immediately after this gave Hiram a small packet of papyrus +sheets rolled very tight, with the ominous injunction to "conceal +carefully, weight it with lead, and fling it overboard if there is danger +of capture." At which Hiram bowed more elegantly than usual and answered, +"Fear not; it shall be guarded as the priests guard the ark of Moloch, and +when next your slave comes, it is to salute my Lord as the sovran of +Athens." + +Hiram smiled fulsomely and departed. An hour later the _Bozra_ ran out on +the light wind around the point of Calauria and into the sparkling sea to +eastward. Democrates stood gazing after her until she was a dark speck on +the horizon. + +The speck at last vanished. The strategus walked homeward. Glaucon was +gone. The fateful packet binding Democrates irrevocably to the Persian +cause was gone. He could not turn back. At the gray of morning with a few +servants he quitted Troezene, and hastened to join Aristeides and Pausanias +in Boeotia. + + * * * * * * * + +In the hold of the _Bozra_, where Hasdrubal had stowed his unwilling +passengers, there crept just enough sunlight to make darkness visible. The +gags had been removed from the prisoners, suffering them to eat, whereupon +Lampaxo had raised a truly prodigious outcry which must needs be silenced +by a vigorous anointing with Hasdrubal's whip of bullock's hide. Her +husband and Glaucon disdained to join a clamour which could never escape +the dreary cavern of the hold, and which only drew the hoots of their +unmagnanimous guardians. The Carthaginians had not misinterpreted +Glaucon's silence, however. They knew well they had a Titan in custody, +and did not even unlash his hands. His feet and Phormio's were tied +between two beams in lieu of stocks. The giant Hib took it upon himself to +feed them bean porridge with a wooden spoon, making the dainty sweeter +with tales of the parching heats of Africa and the life of a slave under +Libyan task-masters. + +So one day, another, and another, while the _Bozra_ rocked at anchor, and +the prisoners knew that liberty lay two short cable lengths away, yet +might have been in Atlantis for all it profited them. Phormio never +reviled his wife as the author of their calamity, and Lampaxo, with nigh +childish earnestness, would protest that surely Democrates knew not what +the sailors did when they bound her. + +"So noble a patriot! An evil god bewitched him into letting these harpies +take us. Woe! woe! What misfortune!" + +To which plaint the others only smiled horribly and ground their teeth. + +Phormio as well as Glaucon had heard the avowal of Democrates on the night +of the seizure. There was no longer any doubt of the answer to the great +riddle. But disheartening, benumbing beyond all personal anguish was the +dread for Hellas. The sacrifice at Thermopylae vain. The glory of Salamis +vain. Hellas and Athens enslaved. The will of Xerxes and Mardonius +accomplished not because of their valour, but because of their enemies' +infamy. + +"O gods, if indeed there be gods!" Glaucon was greatly doubting that at +last; "if ye have any power, if justice, truth, and honour weigh against +iniquity, put that power forth, or never claim the prayers and sacrifice +of men again." + +Glaucon was past dreading for himself. He prayed that Hermione might be +spared a long life of tears, and that Artemis might slay her quickly by +her silent arrows. To follow his thoughts in all their dark mazes were +profitless. Suffice it that the night which had brooded over his soul from +the hour he fled from Colonus was never so dark as now. He was too +despairing even to curse. + +The last hope fled when they heard the rattling of the cables weighing +anchor. Soon the soft slap of the water around the bow and the regular +heaving motion told that the _Bozra_ was under way. The sea-mouse creaked +and groaned through all her timbers and her lading. The foul bilge-water +made the hold stifling as a charnel-house. Lampaxo, Hib being absent, +began to howl and moan. + +"O Queen Hera! O Queen Hera, I die for a breath of air--I, the most +patriotic woman in Athens!" + +"Silence, goodwife," muttered Phormio, twisting desperately on the filthy +straw under him. "Have I not enough to fret about without the addition of +your pipings?" And he muttered underbreath the old saw of Hesiod:-- + + "He who doth a woman trust, + Doth trust a den of thieves." + +"Silence below there, you squealing sow," ordered Hib, from the hatchway. +"Must I tan your hide again?" + +Lampaxo subsided. Phormio tugged vainly at his feet in the stocks. Glaucon +said nothing. A terrible hope had come to him. If he could not speedily +die, at least he would soon go mad, and that would rescue him from his +most terrible enemy--himself. + + * * * * * * * + +The _Bozra_, it has been said, headed not south but eastward. Hasdrubal's +commission was to fetch Samos, where the still formidable fleet of the +Barbarian lay, and to put the precious packet from Democrates in the hands +of Tigranes, Xerxes's commander-in-chief on the coast of Asia Minor. But +although speed had been enjoined, the voyage did not go prosperously. Off +Belbina the wind deserted them altogether, and Hasdrubal had been +compelled to force his craft along by sweeps,--ponderous oars, worked by +three men,--but his progress at best was slow. Off Cythnos the breeze had +again arisen, but it was the Eurus from the southeast, worse than useless; +the _Bozra_ had been obliged to ride at anchor off the island for two +days. Then another calm; and at last, "because," said Hasdrubal piously, +"he had vowed two black lambs to the Wind God," the breeze came clear and +cool from the north, which, if not wholly favourable, enabled the +merchantman to plough onward. It was the fifth day, finally, after +quitting Troezene, that the headlands of Naxos came in sight at dawn, and +the master began to take comfort. The fleet of the Greeks--a fisherboat had +told him--was swinging inactive at Delos well to the north and westward, +and he could fairly consider himself in waters dominated by the king. + +"A fortunate voyage," the master was boasting to Hiram, as he sat at +breakfast in the stern-cabin above a platter of boiled dolphin; "two +talents from the Persians for acting as their messenger; a thousand +drachmae profit on the corn; a hundred from Master Democrates in return for +our little service, not to mention the profit on the return cargo, and +last but not least the three slaves." + +"Yes, the three slaves. I had almost forgotten about them." + +"You see, my dear Hiram," quoth the master, betwixt two unwontedly huge +mouthfuls, "you see what folly it was of you to suggest putting out that +handsome fellow's eyes. I am strongly thinking of selling him not to +Carthage, but to Babylon. I know a trader at Ephesus who makes a specialty +of handsome youths. The satrap Artabozares has commissioned him to find as +many good-looking out-runners as possible. Also for his harem--if this +Glaucon were only a eunuch--" + +Hiram, breaking a large disk of bread, was smiling very suggestively +before making reply, when a sailor shouted at the hatch:-- + +"Ships, master! Ships with oars!" + +"In what quarter?" Hasdrubal sprang up, letting the dishes clatter. + +"From Myconus. They come up fast. Hib at the masthead counts eleven +triremes." + +"Baal preserve us!" The master at once clambered on deck. "The Greek fleet +may be quitting Delos. We must pray for wind." + +It was a gray, hazy day after a dozen bright ones. The northerly breeze +seemed falling. The water spread out a sombre lead colour. The heights of +Naxos were in sight to starboard, but none too clearly. Much more +interesting to Hasdrubal was the line of dots spreading on the horizon to +northwest. Despite the distance his keen eyes could catch the rise and +fall of the oar banks--war-ships, not traders. Hib was right, and +Hasdrubal's face grew longer. No triremes save the Greeks could be bearing +thither, and a merchantman, even from nominally neutral Carthage, caught +headed for the king's coasts in those days of blazing war was nothing if +not fair prize. The master's decision was prompt. + +"They are far off. Put the ship before the wind." + +The sea-mouse was fleet indeed for a trader, but unlike a trireme must +count on her canvas for her speed. With a piping breeze she could mock +pursuit. In a calm she was fearfully handicapped. However, for a moment +Hasdrubal congratulated himself he could slip away unnoticed. The distance +was very great. Then his dark lips cursed. + +"Moloch consume me! If I see aright, we are chased." + +Two vessels, in fact, seemed turning away from the rest. They were heading +straight after the _Bozra_. A long race it would be, but with the gale so +light the chances were against the sea-mouse. Hasdrubal had no need to +urge his crew to rig out the oars and tug furiously, if they wished to +escape a Greek prison and a slave market. + +The whole crew, forty black-visaged, black-eyed creatures, were soon busy +over the dozen great sweeps in a frantic attempt to force the _Bozra_ +beyond danger. Panting, yelling, blaspheming, for a while they seemed +holding their own, but the master watched with sinking heart the waning +breeze. At the end of an hour their pursuers could be distinguished,--a +tall trireme behind, but closer, pulling more rapidly, a penteconter, a +slim scouting galley working fifty oars in a single bank. + +Hasdrubal began to shout desperately: "Wind, Baal, wind! Fill the sails, +and seven he-goats await thy altar in Carthage!" + +Either the god found the bribe too small or lacked the power to accept it. +The breeze did not stiffen. The sailors strove like demons at the sweeps, +but almost imperceptibly the gap betwixt them and the war-ships was +narrowing. + +Hiram, who had been rowing, now left his post to approach the master. + +"What of the captives? Crucifixion waits us all if they are found on the +ship and tell their story. Kill them at once and fling the bodies +overboard." + +Hasdrubal shook his head. + +"Not yet. Still a good chance. I'll not cast five hundred bright shekels +to the fish till harder pressed. The breeze may strengthen." Then he +redoubled his shout. "Wind, Baal, wind!" + +But a little later the gap betwixt the sea-mouse and the penteconter had +so dwindled that even the master's inborn thrift began to yield to +prudence. + +"Hark you, Hib," he cried from the helm. "Take Adherbal and Lars the +Etruscan. It's a good ten furlongs to that cursed galley still, but we +must have those prisoners ready on deck. Over they go if the chase gets a +bit closer." + +The giant Libyan hastened to comply, while all the crew joined in the +captain's howl, "Wind, Baal, wind!" and cried reckless vows, while they +scanned the fateful stretch of gray-green water behind the stern, whereon +liberty if not life depended. + +The trireme, pulling only one of her banks, was dropping behind, her +navarch leaving the tiring chase to the penteconter, but the latter hung +on doggedly. + +"Curse those war-ships with their long oars and heavy crews," growled Hib, +reappearing above the hatch with the prisoners. "The penteconter's only +nine furlongs off." + +He had been obliged to release the captives from the stocks, but Hib had +taken the precaution to place on the formidable athlete a pair of leg +irons joined by a shackle. Not merely were Glaucon's arms pinioned by a +stout cord, but the great Libyan was gripping them tightly. Lars and +Adherbal conducted the other prisoners, whose feet, however, were not +bound. For a moment the three captives stood blinking at the unfamiliar +light, unconscious of the situation and their extremity, whilst Hasdrubal +for the fortieth time measured the distance. The wind had strengthened a +little. Let it strengthen a trifle more and the _Bozra_ would hold her +own. Still her people were nearly spent with their toiling, and the keen +beak and large complement of the man-of-war made resistance madness if she +once came alongside. + +"Have ready sand-bags," ordered Hasdrubal, "to tie to these wretches' +feet. Set them by the boat mast, so the sail can hide our pretty deed from +the penteconter. Have ready an axe. We'll bide a little longer, though, +before we say 'farewell' to our passengers. The gods may help yet." + +Hib and his fellows were marching the prisoners to the poop, when the +sight of the war-ship told Phormio all the story. No gag now hindered his +tongue. + +"Oh, dragons from Carthage, are you going to murder us?" he began in tones +more indignant than terrified. + +"No, save as Heaven enjoins it!" quoth the master, clapping his hands to +urge on the rowing stroke. "Pray, then, your AEolus, Hellene, to stiffen +the breeze." + +"Pray, then, to Pluto, whelps," bawled the undaunted fishmonger, "to give +you a snug berth in Orcus. Ha! but it's a merry thought of you and all +your pretty lads stretched on crosses and waiting for the crows." + +But a violent screech came from Lampaxo, who had just comprehended the +fate awaiting. + +"_Ai! ai!_ save me, fellow-Hellenes!" she bawled toward the penteconter, +"a citizeness of Athens, the most patriotic woman in the city, slaughtered +by Barbarians--" + +"Silence the squealing sow!" roared Hasdrubal. "They'll hear her on the +war-ship. Aft with her and overboard at once." + +But as they dragged Lampaxo on the poop, her outcry rose to a tempest till +Lars the Etruscan clapped his hand upon her mouth. Her screaming stilled, +but his own outcry more than replaced it. In a twinkling the virago's hard +teeth closed over his fingers. Two ran from the oars to him. But the +woman, conscious that she fought for life or death, held fast. Curses, +blows, even a dagger pried betwixt her lips--all bootless. She seemed as a +thing possessed. And all the time the Etruscan howled in mortal agony. + +The thin dagger, bent too hard, snapped betwixt her teeth. Lars's clamour +could surely be heard on the penteconter. Again the breeze was falling. + +They seized the fury's throat, and pressed it till she turned black, but +the grip of her jaw only tightened. + +"_Attatai! attatai!_" groaned the victim, "forbear. Don't throttle her. +Her teeth are iron. They are biting through the bone. If you strangle her, +they will never relax. _Attatai! attatai!_" + +"Nip him tight, little wife," called Phormio, for once regarding his +spouse with supreme satisfaction. "It's a dainty morsel you have in your +mouth. Chew it well!" + +Lampaxo's attackers paused an instant, uncertain how to release the +Etruscan. To their threats of torture the woman was deaf as the mainmast, +and still the Etruscan screamed. + +Glaucon had stood perfectly passive during all this grim by-play. Once +Phormio saw his fellow-captive's face twist into a smile, but in the +excitement of the moment the fishmonger as well as the Carthaginians +almost forgot the Isthmionices, and Hib relaxed his grip and guard. Lars's +finger was streaming red, when Hasdrubal threw away the steering-paddle in +a rage. + +"Silence her forever! The axe, Hib. Split her skull open!" + +The axe lay at the Libyan's feet. One instant, only one, betook his hands +from the athlete's wrists to seize the weapon, but in that instant the +yell from all the crew drowned even the howls of Lars. Had any watched, +they might have seen all the muscles in the Alcmaeonid's glorious body +contract, might have seen the fire spring from his eyes as he put forth a +godlike might. Heracles and Athena Polias had been with him when he threw +his strength upon the bands that held his arms. The crushing of Lycon down +had been no feat like this. In a twinkling the cords about his wrists were +snapped. He swung his free hands in the air. + +"Athens!" he shouted, whilst the crew stood spellbound. "Hermione! Glaucon +is still Glaucon!" + +Hib had grasped the axe, but he never knew what smote him once behind the +ear and sent him rolling lifeless against the bulwark. In an instant his +bright weapon was swinging high above the athlete's head. Glaucon stood +terrible as Achilles before the cowering Trojans. + +"Woe! woe! he is Melkarth. We are lost men!" groaned the crew. + +"At him, fools!" bawled Hasdrubal, first to recover wits, "his feet are +still shackled." + +But whilst the master called to them, the axe dashed down upon the +fetters, and one great stroke smote the coupling-link in twain. The +Athenian stood a moment looking right and left, the axe dancing as a toy +in his grasp, and a smile on his face inviting, "Prove me." + +A javelin singing from the hand of Adherbal flew at him. An imperceptible +bending of the body, a red streak on Glaucon's naked side, and it dug into +the deck. Yet whilst it quivered, was out again and hurled through the +Carthaginian's breast and shoulders. He fell in a heap beside the Libyan. + +Another howl from the sailors. + +"Not Melkarth, but Baal the Dragon-Slayer. We are lost. Who can contend +with him?" + +"Cowards!" thundered Hasdrubal, whipping the sword from his thigh, "do you +not know these three sniff our true business? If they live when the +penteconter comes, it's not prison but Sheol that's waiting. Their lives +or ours. One rush and we have this madman down!" + +But their terrible adversary gave the master no time to gather his +myrmidons. One stroke of the axe had already released Phormio, who +clutched the arms of his wife. + +"The cabin!" the ready-witted fishmonger commanded, and Lampaxo, scarce +knowing what she did, released her ungentle hold on Lars and suffered her +husband to drag her down the ladder. Glaucon went last; no man loving +death enough to come within reach of the axe. Hasdrubal saw his victims +escaping under his eyes and groaned. + +"There is only one hatchway. We must force it. Darts, belaying-pins, +ballast stones--fling anything down. It's for life or death!" + +"The penteconter is four furlongs away!" shrieked a sailor, growing gray +under his dark skin. + +"And Democrates's despatches are hid in the cabin," added Hiram, +chattering. "If they do not go overboard, our deaths will be terrible." + +"Hear, King Moloch!" called Hasdrubal, lifting his swarthy arms to heaven, +then striking them with his sword till the blood gushed down, "suffer us +to escape this calamity and I vow thee even my daughter Tibait,--a child in +her tenth year,--she shall die in thy holy furnace a sacrifice." + +"Hear, Baal! Hear, Moloch!" chorussed the crew; and gathering courage from +necessity seized boat-hooks, oars, dirks, and all other handy weapons for +their attack. + +But below the released prisoners had not been idle. Never--Glaucon knew +it--had his brain been clearer, his invention more fertile than now, and +Phormio was not too old to cease to be a valiant helper. The cabin was +small. A few spears and swords stood in the rack about the mast. The +athlete bolted the sliding hatch-cover, and tore down the weapons. + +"Release your wife," he ordered Phormio; "yonder sea chest is strong. Drag +it over to bar the hatch-ladder. Work as Titans if you hope for another +sun." + +"_Ai, ai, ai!_" screeched Lampaxo, who had released Lars's fingers only to +resume her din, "we all perish. They are hewing the hatch-cover with their +axes. Hera preserve us! The wood splinters. We die." + +"We have no time to die," called the athlete, "but only to save Hellas." + +A dozen blows beat the frail hatch-cover to splinters. A dark face with +grinning teeth showed itself. A heavy ballast stone grazed the athlete's +shoulder, but the intruder fell back with a gurgling in his throat, his +hands clutching the empty air. Glaucon had sent a heavy spear clean +through him. + +More ballast stones, but the Titanic Alcmaeonid had torn a mattress from a +bunk, and held it as effective shield. By main force the others dragged +the chest across to the hatchway, making the entrance doubly narrow. +Vainly Hasdrubal stormed at his men to rush down boldly. They barely dared +to fling stones and darts, so fast their adversary sped them back, and to +the mark. + +"A god! a god! We fight against Heaven!" bleated the seamen. + +Their groans were answered by the screechings of Lampaxo through the +port-hole and the taunts of Phormio. + +"Sing, sing, pretty Pisinoe, sweetest of the sirens," tossed the +fishmonger, playing his part at Glaucon's side; "lure that dear +penteconter a little nearer. And you, brave, gentle sirs, don't try 'to +flay a skinned dog' by thrusting down here. Your hands are just itching +for the nails, I warrant!" + +Hasdrubal redoubled his vows to Moloch. In place of his daughter he +substituted his son, though the lad was fourteen years old and the darling +of his parents. But the god was not tempted even now. The attack on the +cabin had called the sailors from the oars. The penteconter consequently +had gained fast upon them. The trireme behind was manning her other banks +and drawing down apace. Hiram cast a hopeless glance toward her. + +"I know those 'eyes'--those red hawse-holes--the _Nausicaae_. Come what may, +Themistocles must not read the packet in the cabin. There is one chance." + +He approached the splintered hatchway and outstretched his +hands--weaponless. + +"Ah, good and gracious Master Glaucon, and your honest friends, your gods +of Hellas are very great and have delivered us, your poor slaves, into +your hands. Your friends approach. We will resist no longer. Come on deck; +and when the ship is taken, entreat the navarch to be merciful and +generous." + +"Bah!" spat Phormio, "you write your promises in water, or better in oil, +black-scaled viper. We know what time of day it is with us, and what for +you." + +Hiram saw Glaucon's hand rise with a javelin, and shrank shivering. + +"They won't hearken. All's lost," he whimpered, his smile becoming +ghastly. + +"Another rush, men!" pleaded Hasdrubal. + +"Lead the charge yourself, master!" retorted the seamen, sullenly. + +The captain, swinging a cutlass, leaped down the bloodstained hatch. One +moment the desperate fury of his attack carried Glaucon backward. The two +fought--sword against axe--in doubtful combat. + +"Follow! follow!" called Hasdrubal, dashing Phormio aside with the flat of +his blade. "I have him at last!" But just as Hiram was leading down a +dozen more, the athlete's axe swept past the sword, and fell like a +millstone on the master's skull. He never screamed as he crashed upon the +planks. + +This was enough. The seamen were at the end of their valour. If they must +die, they must die. What use resisting destiny? + +Slowly, slowly the moments crept for the three in the cabin. Even Lampaxo +grew still. They heard Hiram pleading frantically, vainly, for another +attempt, and raving strange things about Democrates, Lycon, and the +Persian. Then behind the _Bozra_ sounded the rushing of foam around a ram, +the bumping of fifty oars plying on the thole-pins. Into their sight shot +the penteconter, the brass glistening on her prow, the white blades +leaping in rhythm. Marines in armour stood on the forecastle. A few arrows +pattered on the plankings of the _Bozra_. Her abject crew obeyed the +demand to surrender. Their helmsman pushed over the steering-paddle, and +flung himself upon the deck. The sea-mouse went up into the wind. The +grappling-irons rattled over the bulwark. Glaucon heard the Phoenicians +whining, "Mercy! mercy!" as they embraced the boarders' feet, then the +_proreus_, in hearty Attic, calling, "Secure the prisoners and rummage the +prize!" + +Glaucon had suffered many things of late. He had faced intolerable +captivity, immediate death. Now around his eyes swam hot mist. He fell +upon a sea chest, and for a little cared not for anything around, whilst +down his cheeks would flow the tears. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVI + + + THE READING OF THE RIDDLE + + +A hard chase. The rowers of the penteconter were well winded before they +caught the _Bozra_. A merchantman making for Asia was, however, undoubted +prize; the luckless crew could be sold in the Agora, the cargo of oil, +fish, and pottery was likewise of value. Cimon was standing on his poop, +listening to the report of his _proreus_. + +"We're all a mina richer for the race, captain, and they've some jars of +their good Numidian wine in the forecastle." + +But here a seaman interrupted, staring blankly. + +"_Kyrie_, here's a strange prize. Five men lie dead on the deck. The +planks are bloody. In the cabin are two men and a woman. All three seem +mad. They are Greeks. They keep us out, and bawl, 'The navarch! show us +the navarch, or Hellas is lost.' And one of them--as true as that I sucked +my mother's milk--is Phormio--" + +"Phormio the fishmonger,"--Cimon dropped his steering oar,--"on a +Carthaginian ship? You're mad yourself, man." + +"See with your own eyes, captain. They'll yield to none save you. The +prisoners are howling that one of these men is a giant." + +For the active son of Miltiades to leap from bulwark to bulwark took an +instant. Only when he showed himself did the three in the cabin scramble +up the ladder, covered with blood, the red lines of the fetters marked +into wrist and ankle. Lampaxo had thrown her dress over her head and was +screaming still, despite assurances. The third Hellene's face was hid +under a tangle of hair. But Cimon knew the fishmonger. Many a morning had +he haggled with him merrily for a fine mackerel or tunny, and the navarch +recoiled in horror at his fellow-citizen's plight. + +"Infernal gods! You a prisoner here? Where is this cursed vessel from?" + +"From Troezene," gasped the refugee; "if you love Athens and Hellas--" + +He turned just in time to fling an arm about Hiram, who--carelessly +guarded--was gliding down the hatchway. + +"Seize that viper, bind, torture; he knows all. Make him tell or Hellas is +lost!" + +"Control yourself, friend," adjured Cimon, sorely perplexed, while Hiram +struggled and began tugging out a crooked knife, before two brawny seamen +nipped him fast and disarmed. + +"Ah! you carrion meat," shouted Phormio, shaking his fists under the +helpless creature's nose. "Honest men have their day at last. There's a +gay hour coming before Zeus claps the lid over you in Tartarus." + +"Peace," commanded the navarch, who betwixt Phormio's shouts, Lampaxo's +howls, and Hiram's moans was at his wit's end. "Has no one on this ship +kept aboard his senses?" + +"If you will be so good, sir captain," the third Hellene at last broke his +silence, "you will hearken to me." + +"Who are you?" + +"The _proreus_ of the _Alcyone_ of Melos. More of myself hereafter. But if +you love the weal of Hellas, demand of this Hiram where he concealed the +treasonable despatches he received at Troezene and now has aboard." + +"Hiram? O Lord Apollo, I recognize the snake! The one that was always +gliding around Lycon at the Isthmus. If despatches he has, I know the way +to get them. Now, black-hearted Cyclops,"--Cimon's tone was not +gentle,--"where are your papers?" + +Hiram had turned gray as a corpse, but his white teeth came together. + +"Phormio is mistaken. Your slave has none." + +"Bah!" threw out Cimon, "I can smell your lies like garlic. Silent still? +Good, see how I am better than Asclepius. I make the dumb talk by a +miracle. A cord and belaying-pin, Naon." + +The seaman addressed passed a cord about the Phoenician's forehead with a +fearful dexterity, and put the iron pin at the back of the skull. + +"Twist!" commanded Cimon. Two mariners gripped the victim's arms. Naon +pressed the cord tighter, tighter. A beastlike groan came through the lips +of the Phoenician. His beady eyes started from his head, but he did not +speak. + +"Again," thundered the navarch, and as the cord stretched a howl of mortal +agony escaped the prisoner. + +"Pity! Mercy! My head bursts. I will tell!" + +"Tell quick, or we'll squeeze your brains out. Relax a little, Naon." + +"In the boat mast." Hiram spit the words out one by one. "In the cabin. +There is a peg. Pull it out. The mast is hollowed. You will find the +papers. Woe! woe! cursed the day I was born. Cursed my mother for bearing +me." + +The miserable creature fell to the deck, pressing his hands to his temples +and moaning in agony. No one heeded him now. Cimon himself ran below to +the mast, and wrenched the peg from its socket. Papyrus sheets were there, +rolled compactly, covered with writing and sealed. The navarch turned over +the packet curiously, then to the amazement of the sailors seemed to +stagger against the mast. He was as pale as Hiram. He thrust the packet +into the hands of his _proreus_, who stood near. + +"What make you of this seal? As you fear Athena, tell the truth." + +"You need not adjure me so, captain. The device is simple: Theseus slaying +the Minotaur." + +"And who, in Zeus's name, do you know in Athens who uses a seal like +that?" + +Silence for a moment, then the _proreus_ himself was pale. + +"Your Excellency does not mean--" + +"Democrates!" cried the trembling navarch. + +"And why not Democrates?" The words came from the released prisoner, who +had been so silent, but who had glided down and stood at Cimon's elbow. He +spoke in a changed voice now; again the navarch was startled. + +"Is Themistocles on the _Nausicaae_?" asked the stranger, whilst Cimon +gazed on him spellbound, asking if he himself were growing mad. + +"Yes--but your voice, your face, your manner--my head is dizzy." + +The stranger touched him gently on the hand. + +"Have I so changed, you quite forget me, Cimon?" + +The son of Miltiades was a strong man. He had looked on Hiram's tortures +with a laugh. To his own death he would have gone with no eyelash +trembling. But now the rest saw him blench; then with a cry, at once of +wonder and inexpressible joy, his arms closed round the tattered outlaw's +neck. Treason or no treason--what matter! He forgot all save that before +him was his long-time comrade. + +"My friend! My boyhood's friend!" and so for many times they kissed. + +The _Nausicaae_ had followed the chase at easy distance, ready with aid in +case the _Bozra_ resisted. Themistocles was in his cabin with Simonides, +when Cimon and Glaucon came to him. The admiral heard his young navarch's +report, then took the unopened packet and requested Cimon and the poet to +withdraw. As their feet sounded on the ladder in the companionway, +Themistocles turned on the outlaw, it seemed, fiercely. + +"Tell your story." + +Glaucon told it: the encounter on the hillside at Troezene, the seizure in +Phormio's house, the coming of Democrates and his boasts over the +captives, the voyage and the pursuing. The son of Neocles never hastened +the recital, though once or twice he widened it by an incisive question. +At the end he demanded:-- + +"And does Phormio confirm all this?" + +"All. Question him." + +"Humph! He's a truthful man in everything save the price of fish. Now let +us open the packet." + +Themistocles was exceeding deliberate. He drew his dagger and pried the +wrapper open without breaking the seals or tearing the papyrus. He turned +the strips of paper carefully one by one, opened a casket, and drew thence +a written sheet which he compared painfully with those before him. + +"The same hand," his remark in undertone. + +He was so calm that a stranger would have thought him engaged with routine +business. Many of the sheets he simply lifted, glanced at, laid down +again. They did not seem to interest. So through half the roll, but the +outlaw, watching patiently, at last saw he eyebrows of the son of Neocles +pressing ever closer,--sign that the inscrutable brain was at its fateful +work. + +At last he uttered one word, "Cipher." + +A sheet lay before him covered with broken words and phrases--seemingly +without meaning--but the admiral knew the secret of the Spartan _scytale_, +the "cipher wood." Forth from his casket came a number of rounded sticks +of varying lengths. On one after another he wound the sheet spirally until +at the fifth trial the scattered words came together. He read with ease. +Then Themistocles's brows grew closer than before. He muttered softly in +his beard. But still he said nothing aloud. He read the cipher sheet +through once, twice; it seemed thrice. Other sheets he fingered +delicately, as though he feared the touch of venom. All without haste, but +at the end, when Themistocles arose from his seat, the outlaw trembled. +Many things he had seen, but never a face so changed. The admiral was +neither flushed nor pale. But ten years seemed added to those lines above +his eyes. His cheeks were hollowed. Was it fancy that put the gray into +his beard and hair? Slowly he rose; slowly he ordered the marine on guard +outside the cabin to summon Simonides, Cimon, and all the officers of the +flag-ship. They trooped hither and filled the narrow cabin--fifteen or more +hale, handsome Athenians, intent on the orders of the admiral. Were they +to dash at once for Samos and surprise the Persian? Or what other +adventure waited? The breeze had died. The gray breast of the AEgean rocked +the _Nausicaae_ softly. The thranites of the upper oar bank were alone on +the benches, and stroking the great trireme along to a singsong chant +about Amphitrite and the Tritons. On the poop above two sailors were +grumbling lest the penteconter's people get all the booty of the _Bozra_. +Glaucon heard their grunts and complainings whilst he looked on +Themistocles's awful face. + +The officers ranged themselves and saluted stiffly. Themistocles stood +before them, his hands closed over the packet. The first time he started +to speak his lips closed desperately. The silence grew awkward. Then the +admiral gave his head a toss, and drew his form together as a runner +before a race. + +"Democrates is a traitor. Unless Athena shows us mercy, Hellas is lost." + +"Democrates is a traitor!" + +The cry from the startled men rang through the ship. The rowers ceased +their chant and their stroking. Themistocles beckoned angrily for silence. + +"I did not call you down to wail and groan." He never raised his voice; +his calmness made him terrible. But now the questions broke loose as a +flood. + +"When? How? Declare." + +"Peace, men of Athens; you conquered the Persian at Salamis, conquer now +yourselves. Harken to this cipher. Then to our task and prove our comrades +did not die in vain." + +Yet despite him men wept on one another's shoulders as became true +Hellenes, whilst Themistocles, whose inexorable face never relaxed, +rewound the papyrus on the cipher stick and read in hard voice the words +of doom. + +"This is the letter secreted on the Carthaginian. The hand is +Democrates's, the seals are his. Give ear. + +"Democrates the Athenian to Tigranes, commander of the hosts of Xerxes on +the coasts of Asia, greeting:--Understand, dear Persian, that Lycon and I +as well as the other friends of the king among the Hellenes are prepared +to bring all things to pass in a way right pleasing to your master. Even +now I depart from Troezene to join the army of the allied Hellenes in +Boeotia, and, the gods helping, we cannot fail. Lycon and I will contrive +to separate the Athenians and Spartans from their other allies, to force +them to give battle, and at the crisis cause the divisions under our +personal commands to retire, breaking the phalanx and making Mardonius's +victory certain. + +"For your part, excellent Tigranes, you must avoid the Hellenic ships at +Delos and come back to Mardonius with your fleet ready to second him at +once after his victory, which will be speedy; then with your aid he can +readily turn the wall at the Isthmus. I send also letters written, as it +were, in the hand of Themistocles. See that they fall into the hands of +the other Greek admirals. They will breed more hurt amongst the Hellenes +than you can accomplish with all your ships. I send, likewise, lists of +such Athenians and Spartans as are friendly to his Majesty, also memoranda +of such secret plans of the Greeks as have come to my knowledge. + +"From Troezene, given into the hands of Hiram on the second of +Metageitnion, in the archonship of Xanthippus. _Chaire!_" + +Themistocles ceased. No man spoke a word. It was as if a god had flung a +bolt from heaven. What use to cry against it? Then, in an ominously low +voice, Simonides asked a question. + +"What are these letters which purport to come from your pen, +Themistocles?" + +The admiral unrolled another papyrus, and as he looked thereon his fine +face contracted with loathing. + +"Let another read. I am made to pour contempt and ridicule upon my +fellow-captains. I am made to boast 'when the war ends, I will be tyrant +of Athens.' A thousand follies and wickednesses are put in my mouth. Were +this letter true, I were the vilest wretch escaping Orcus. Since forged--" +his hands clinched--"by that man, that man whom I have trusted, loved, +cherished, called 'younger brother,' 'oldest son'--" He spat in rising fury +and was still. + +" 'Fain would I grip his liver in my teeth,' " cried the little poet, even +in storm and stress not forgetting his Homer. And the howl from the +man-of-war's men was as the howl of beasts desiring their prey. But the +admiral's burst of anger ended. He stood again an image of calm power. The +voice that had charmed the thousands rang forth in its strength and +sweetness. + +"Men of Athens, this is no hour for windy rage. Else I should rage the +most, for who is more wronged than I? One whom we loved is fallen--later +let us weep for him. One whom we trusted is false--later punish him. But +now the work is neither to weep nor to punish, but to save Hellas. A great +battle impends in Boeotia. Except the Zeus of our sires and Athena of the +Pure Eyes be with us, we are men without home, without fatherland. +Pausanias and Aristeides must be warned. The _Nausicaae_ is the +'Salaminia,'--the swiftest trireme in the fleet. Ours must be the deed, and +ours the glory. Enough of this--the men must hear, and then to the oars." + +Themistocles had changed from despair to a triumph note. There was uplift +even to look upon him. He strode before all his lieutenants up and out +upon the poop. The long tiers of benches and the gangways filled with +rowers peered up at him. They had seen their officers gather in the cabin, +and Dame Rumour, subtlest of Zeus's messengers, had breathed +"ill-tidings." Now the admiral stood forth, and in few words told all the +heavy tale. Again a great shout, whilst the bronzed men groaned on the +benches. + +"Democrates is a traitor!" + +A deity had fallen from their Olympus; the darling of the Athenians's +democracy was sunk to vilest of the vile. But the admiral knew how to play +on their two hundred hearts better than Orpheus upon his lyre. Again the +note changed from despair to incitement, and when at last he called, "And +can we cross the AEgean as never trireme crossed and pluck back Hellas from +her fate?" thalamite, zygite, and thranite rose, tossing their brawny arms +into the air. + +"_We can!_" + +Then Themistocles folded his own arms and smiled. He felt the god was +still with him. + + * * * * * * * + +Yet, eager as was the will, they could not race forth instantly. Orders +must be written to Xanthippus, the Athenian vice-admiral far away, bidding +him at all hazards to keep the Persian fleet near Samos. Cimon was long in +privy council with Themistocles in the state cabin. At the same time a +prisoner was passed aboard the _Nausicaae_, not gently bound,--Hiram, a +precious witness, before the dogs had their final meal on him. But the +rest of the _Bozra's_ people found a quicker release. The penteconter's +people decided their fate with a yell. + +"Sell such harpies for slaves? The money would stink through our pouches!" + +So two by two, tied neck to neck and heel to heel, the wretches were flung +overboard, "because we lack place and wood to crucify you," called the +_Nausicaae's_ governor, as he pushed the last pair off into the leaden +sea,--for the day was distant when the destruction of such Barbarian rogues +would weigh even on tender consciences. + +So the Carthaginians ceased from troubling, but before the penteconter and +the _Bozra_ bore away to join the remaining fleet, another deed was done +in sight of all three ships. For whilst Themistocles was with Cimon, +Simonides and Sicinnus had taken Glaucon to the _Nausicaae's_ forecastle. +Now as the penteconter was casting off, again he came to view, and the +shout that greeted him was not of fear this time, but wonder and delight. +The Alcmaeonid was clean-shaven, his hair clipped close, the black dye even +in a manner washed away. He had flung off the rough seaman's dress, and +stood forth in all his godlike beauty. + +Before all men Cimon, coming from the cabin, ran and kissed him once more, +whilst the rowers clapped their hands. + +"Apollo--it is Delian Apollo! Glaucon the Beautiful lives again. _Io! Io! +paean!_" + +"Yes," spoke Themistocles, in a burst of gladness. "The gods take one +friend, they restore another. OEdipus has read the sphinx's riddle. Honour +this man, for he is worthy of honour through Hellas!" + +The officers ran to the athlete, after them the sailors. They covered his +face and hands with kisses. He seemed escaped the Carthaginian to perish +in the embrace of his countrymen. Never was his blush more boyish, more +divine. Then a bugle-blast sent every man to his station. Cimon leaped +across to his smaller ship. The rowers of the _Nausicaae_ ran out their +oars, the hundred and seventy blades trailed in the water. Every man took +a long breath and fixed his eyes on the admiral standing on the poop. He +held a golden goblet set with turquoise, and filled with the blood-red +Pramnian wine. Loudly Themistocles prayed. + +"Zeus of Olympus and Dodona, Zeus Orchios, rewarder of the oath-breaker, +to whom the Hellenes do not vainly pray, and thou Athena of the Pure Eyes, +give ear. Make our ship swift, our arms strong, our hearts bold. Hold back +the battle that we come not too late. Grant that we confound the guilty, +put to flight the Barbarian, recompense the traitor. So to you and all +other holy gods whose love is for the righteous we will proffer prayer and +sacrifice forever. Amen." + +He poured out the crimson liquor; far into the sea he flung the golden +cup. + +"Heaven speed you!" shouted from the penteconter. Themistocles nodded. The +_keleustes_ smote his gavel upon the sounding-board. The triple oar bank +rose as one and plunged into the foam. A long "h-a!" went up from the +benches. The race to save Hellas was begun. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVII + + + THE RACE TO SAVE HELLAS + + +The chase had cost the Athenians dear. Before the _Bozra_ had submitted to +her fate, she had led the _Nausicaae_ and her consort well down into the +southern AEgean. A little more and they would have lifted the shaggy +headlands of Crete. The route before the great trireme was a long one. Two +thousand stadia,(13) as the crow flies, sundered them from the Euripus, +the nearest point whence they could despatch a runner to Pausanias and +Aristeides; and what with the twistings around the scattered Cyclades the +route was one-fourth longer. But men had ceased reckoning distance. Their +hearts were in the flying oars, and at first the _Nausicaae_ ran leaping +across the waves as leaps the dolphin,--the long gleaming blades springing +like shuttles in the hands of the ready crew. They had taken from the +penteconter all her spare rowers, and to make the great ship bound over +the steel-gray deep was children's play. "We must save Hellas, and we +can!" That was the thought of all from Themistocles to the meanest +thranite. + +So at the beginning when the task seemed light and hands were strong. The +breeze that had betrayed the _Bozra_ ever sank lower. Presently it died +altogether. The sails they set hung limp on the mast. The navarch had them +furled. The sea spread out before them, a glassy, leaden-coloured floor; +the waves roaring in their wake faded in a wide ripple far behind. To +hearten his men the _keleustes_ ceased his beating on the sounding-board, +and clapped lips to his pipe. The whole trireme chorussed the familiar +song together:-- + + "Fast and more fast + O'er the foam-spray we're passed. + And our creaking sails swell + To the swift-breathing blast, + For Poseidon's wild steeds + With their manifold feet, + Like a hundred white nymphs + On the blue sea-floor fleet. + And we wake as we go + Gray old Phorcys below, + Whilst on shell-clustered trumpets + The loud Tritons blow! + The loud Tritons blow! + + "All of AEolus's train + Springing o'er the blue main + To our paeans reply + With their long, long refrain; + And the sea-folk upleap + From their dark weedy caves; + With a clear, briny laugh + They dance over the waves; + Now their mistress below,-- + See bright Thetis go, + As she leads the mad revels, + While loud Tritons blow! + While loud Tritons blow! + + "With the foam gliding white, + Where the light flash is bright. + We feel the live keel + Leaping on with delight; + And in melody wild + Men and Nereids and wind + Sing and laugh all their praise, + To the bluff seagods kind; + Whilst deep down below, + Where no storm blasts may go, + On their care-charming trumpets + The loud Tritons blow, + The loud Tritons blow." + +Bravely thus for a while, but at last Themistocles, watching from the poop +with eyes that nothing evaded, saw how here and there the dip of the +blades was weakening, here and there a breast was heaving rapidly, a mouth +was panting for air. + +"The relief," he ordered. And the spare rowers ran gladly to the places of +those who seemed the weariest. Only a partial respite. Fifty +supernumeraries were a poor stop-gap for the one hundred and seventy. Only +the weakest could be relieved, and even those wept and pled to continue at +the benches a little longer. The thunderous threat of Ameinias, that he +who refused a proffered relief must stand all day by the mast with an iron +anchor on his shoulder, alone sufficed to make the malcontents give place. +Yet after a little while the singing died. Breath was too precious to +waste. It was mockery to troll of "AEolus's winds" whilst the sea was one +motionless mirror of gray. The monotonous "beat," "beat" of the +_keleustes's_ hammer, and the creaking of the oars in their leathered +holes alone broke the stillness that reigned through the length of the +trireme. The penteconter and her prize had long since faded below the +horizon. With almost wistful eyes men watched the islets as they glided +past one after another, Thera now, then Ios, and presently the greater +Paros and Naxos lay before them. They relieved oars whenever possible. The +supernumeraries needed no urging after their scanty rest to spring to the +place of him who was fainting, but hardly any man spoke a word. + +The first time the relief went in Glaucon had stepped forward. + +"I am strong. I am able to pull an oar," he had cried almost angrily when +Themistocles laid his hand upon him, but the admiral would have none of +it. + +"You shall not. Sooner will I go on to the bench myself. You have been +through the gates of Tartarus these last days, and need all your strength. +Are you not the Isthmionices,--the swiftest runner in Hellas?" + +Then Glaucon had stepped back and said no more. He knew now for what +Themistocles reserved him,--that after the _Nausicaae_ made land he must +run, as never man ran before across wide Boeotia to bear the tidings to +Pausanias. + +They were betwixt Paros and Naxos at last. Wine and barley cakes soaked in +oil were passed among the men at the oars. They ate without leaving the +benches. And still the sea spread out glassy, motionless, and the pennon +hung limp on the mainmast. The _keleustes_ slowed his beatings, but the +men did not obey him. No whipped cattle were they, such as rowed the +triremes of Phoenicia, but freemen born, sons of Athens, who called it joy +to die for her in time of need. Therefore despite the _keleustes's_ beats, +despite Themistocles's command, the rowing might not slacken. And the +black wave around the _Nausicaae's_ bow sang its monotonous music. + +But Themistocles ever turned his face eastward, until men thought he was +awaiting some foe in chase, and presently--just as a rower among the +zygites fell back with the blood gushing from mouth and nostrils--the +admiral pointed his finger toward the sky-line of the morning. + +"Look! Athena is with us!" + +And for the first time in hours those panting, straining men let the hot +oar butts slip from their hands, even trail in the darkling water, whilst +they rose, looked, and blessed their gods. + +It was coming, the strong kind Eurus out of the south and east. They could +see the black ripple springing over the glassy sea; they could hear the +singing of the cordage; they could catch the sweet sniff of the brine. +Admiral and rower lifted their hands together at this manifest favour of +heaven. + +"Poseidon is with us! Athena is with us! AEolus is with us! We can save +Hellas!" + +Soon the sun burst forth above the mist. All the wide ocean floor was +adance with sparkling wavelets. No need of Ameinias's lusty call to bend +again the sails. The smaller canvas on the foremast and great spread on +the mainmast were bellying to the piping gale. A fair wind, but no storm. +The oars were but helpers now,--men laughed, hugged one another as boys, +wept as girls, and let the benignant wind gods labour for them. Delos the +Holy they passed, and Tenos, and soon the heights of Andros lifted, as the +ship with its lading of fate flew over the island-strewn sea. At last, +just as the day was leaving them, they saw Helios going down into the +fire-tinged waves in a parting burst of glory. Darkness next, but the +kindly wind failed not. Through the night no man on that trireme +slumbered. Breeze or calm, he who had an obol's weight of power spent it +at the oars. + +Long after midnight Themistocles and Glaucon clambered the giddy cordage +to the ship's top above the swelling mainsail. On the narrow platform, +with the stars above, the dim tracery of the wide sail, the still dimmer +tracery of the long ship below, they seemed transported to another world. +Far beneath by the glimmer of the lanterns they saw the rowers swaying at +their toil. In the wake the phosphorous bubbles ran away, opalescent +gleams springing upward, as if torches of Doris and her dancing Nereids. +So much had admiral and outlaw lived through this day they had thought +little of themselves. Now calmer thought returned. Glaucon could tell of +many things he had heard and thought, of the conversation overheard the +morning before Salamis, of what Phormio had related during the weary +captivity in the hold of the _Bozra_. Themistocles pondered long. Yet for +Glaucon when standing even on that calm pinnacle the trireme must creep +over the deep too slowly. + +"O give me wings, Father Zeus," was his prayer; "yes, the wings of Icarus. +Let me fly but once to confound the traitor and deliver thy Hellas,--after +that, like Icarus let me fall. I am content to die." + +But Themistocles pressed close against his side. "Ask for no wings,"--in +the admiral's voice was a tremor not there when he sped confidence through +the crew,--"if it be destined we save Hellas, it is destined; if we are to +die, we die. 'No man of woman born, coward or brave, can shun the fate +assigned.' Hector said that to Andromache, and the Trojan was right. But +we shall save Hellas. Zeus and Athena are great gods. They did not give us +glory at Salamis to make that glory tenfold vain. We shall save Hellas. +Yet I have fear--" + +"Of what, then?" + +"Fear that Themistocles will be too merciful to be just. Ah! pity me." + +"I understand--Democrates." + +"I pray he may escape to the Persians, or that Ares may slay him in fair +battle. If not--" + +"What will you do?" + +The admiral's hold upon the younger Athenian's arm tightened. + +"I will prove that Aristeides is not the only man in Hellas who deserves +the name of 'Just.' When I was young, my tutor would predict great things +of me. 'You will be nothing small, Themistocles, but great, whether for +good or ill, I know not,--but great you will be.' And I have always +struggled upward. I have always prospered. I am the first man in Hellas. I +have set my will against all the power of Persia. Zeus willing, I shall +conquer. But the Olympians demand their price. For saving Hellas I must +pay--Democrates. I loved him." + +The two men stood in silence long, whilst below the oars and the rushing +water played their music. At last the admiral relaxed his hand on Glaucon. + +"_Eu!_ They will call me 'Saviour of Hellas' if all goes well. I shall be +greater than Solon, or Lycurgus, or Periander, and in return I must do +justice to a friend. Fair recompense!" + +The laugh of the son of Neocles was harsher than a cry. The other answered +nothing. Themistocles set his foot on the ladder. + +"I must return to the men. I would go to an oar, only they will not let +me." + +The admiral left Glaucon for a moment alone. All around him was the +night,--the stars, the black aether, the blacker sea,--but he was not lonely. +He felt as when in the foot-race he turned for the last burst toward the +goal. One more struggle, one supreme summons of strength and will, and +after that the triumph and the rest.--Hellas, Athens, Hermione, he was +speeding back to all. Once again all the things past floated out of the +dream-world and before him,--the wreck, the lotus-eating at Sardis, +Thermopylae, Salamis, the agony on the _Bozra_. Now came the end, the end +promised in the moment of vision whilst he pulled the boat at Salamis. +What was it? He tried not to ask. Enough it was to be the end. He, like +Themistocles, had supreme confidence that the treason would be thwarted. +The gods were cruel, but not so cruel that after so many deliverances they +would crush him at the last. "The miracles of Zeus are never wrought in +vain." Had not Zeus wrought miracles for him once and twice? The proverb +was great comfort. + +Suddenly whilst he built his palace of phantasy, a cry from the foreship +dissolved it. + +"Attica, Attica, hail, all hail!" + +He saw upon the sky-line the dim tracery of the Athenian headlands "like a +shield laid on the misty deep." Again men were springing from the oars, +laughing, weeping, embracing, whilst under the clear, unflagging wind the +_Nausicaae_ sped up the narrowing strait betwixt Euboea and the mainland. +Dawn glowed at last, unveiling the brown Attic shoreline with Pentelicus +the marble-fretted and all his darker peers. + +Hour by hour they ran onward. They skirted the long low coast of Euboea to +the starboard. They saw Marathon and its plain of fair memories stretching +to port, and now the strait grew closer yet, and it needed all the +governor's skill at the steering-oars to keep the _Nausicaae_ from the +threatening rocks. Marathon was behind at last. The trireme rounded the +last promontory; the bay grew wider; the prow was set more to westward. +Every man--the faintest--struggled back to his oar if he had left it--this +was the last hundred stadia to Oropus, and after that the _Nausicaae_ might +do no more. Once again the _keleustes_ piped, and his note was swift and +feverish. The blades shot faster, faster, as the trireme raced down the +sandy shore of the Attic "Diacria." Once in the strait they saw a +brown-sailed fisherboat, and the helm swerved enough to bring her within +hail. The fishermen stared at the flying trireme and her straining, +wide-eyed men. + +"Has there been a battle?" cried Ameinias. + +"Not yet. We are from Styra on Euboea; we expect the news daily. The armies +are almost together." + +"And where are they?" + +"Near to Plataea." + +That was all. The war-ship left the fishermen rocking in her wake, but +again Themistocles drew his eyebrows close together, while Glaucon +tightened the buckle on his belt. Plataea,--the name meant that the courier +must traverse the breadth of Boeotia, and with the armies face to face how +long would Zeus hold back the battle? How long indeed, with Democrates and +Lycon intent on bringing battle to pass? The ship was more than ever +silent as she rushed on the last stretch of her course. More men fell at +the oars with blood upon their faces. The supernumeraries tossed them +aside like logs of wood, and leaped upon their benches. Themistocles had +vanished with Simonides in the cabin; all knew their work,--preparing +letters to Aristeides and Pausanias to warn of the bitter truth. Then the +haven at last: the white-stuccoed houses of Oropus clustering down upon +the shore, the little mole, a few doltish peasants by the landing gaping +at the great trireme. No others greeted them, for the terror of +Mardonius's Tartar raiders had driven all but the poorest to some safe +shelter. The oars slipped from numb fingers; the anchor plunged into the +green water; the mainsail rattled down the mast. Men sat on the benches +motionless, gulping down the clear air. They had done their part. The rest +lay in the hands of the gods, and in the speed of him who two days since +they had called "Glaucon the Traitor." The messenger came from the cabin, +half stripped, on his head a felt skullcap, on his feet high hunter's +boots laced up to the knees. He had never shone in more noble beauty. The +crew watched Themistocles place a papyrus roll in Glaucon's belt, and +press his mouth to the messenger's ear in parting admonition. Glaucon gave +his right hand to Themistocles, his left to Simonides. Fifty men were +ready to man the pinnace to take him ashore. On the beach the _Nausicaae's_ +people saw him stand an instant, as he turned his face upward to the +"dawn-facing" gods of Hellas, praying for strength and swiftness. + +"Apollo speed you!" called two hundred after him. He answered from the +beach with a wave of his beautiful arms. A moment later he was hid behind +a clump of olives. The _Nausicaae's_ people knew the ordeal before him, but +many a man said Glaucon had the easier task. He could run till life failed +him. They now could only fold their hands and wait. + + * * * * * * * + +It was long past noon when Glaucon left the desolate village of Oropus +behind him. The day was hot, but after the manner of Greece not sultry, +and the brisk breeze was stirring on the hill slopes. Over the distant +mountains hung a tint of deep violet. It was early in Boedromion.(14) The +fields--where indeed the Barbarian cavalry men had not deliberately burned +them--were seared brown by the long dry summer. Here and there great black +crows were picking, and a red fox would whisk out of a thicket and go with +long bounds across the unharvested fields to some safer refuge. Glaucon +knew his route. Three hundred and sixty stadia lay before him, and those +not over the well-beaten course in the gymnasium, but by rocky goat trails +and by-paths that made his task no easier. He started off slowly. He was +too good an athlete to waste his speed by one fierce burst at the outset. +At first his road was no bad one, for he skirted the willow-hung Asopus, +the boundary stream betwixt Attica and Boeotia. But he feared to keep too +long upon this highway to Tanagra, and of the dangers of the road he soon +met grim warnings. + +First, it was a farmstead in black ruin, with the carcass of a horse half +burned lying before the gate. Next, it was the body of a woman, three days +slain, and in the centre of the road,--no pleasant sight, for the crows had +been at their banquet,--and hardened though the Alcmaeonid was to war, he +stopped long enough to cast the ceremonial handful of dust on the poor +remains, as symbolic burial, and sped a wish to King Pluto to give peace +to the wanderer's spirit. Next, people met him: an old man, his wife, his +young son,--wretched shepherd-folk dressed in sheepskins,--the boy helping +his elders as they tottered along on their staves toward the mountain. At +sight of Glaucon they feebly made to fly, but he held out his hand, +showing he was unarmed, and they halted also. + +"Whence and whither, good father?" + +Whereat the old man began to shake all over and tell a mumbling story, how +they had been set upon by the Scythian troopers in their little farm near +OEnophytae, how he had seen the farmhouse burn, his two daughters swung +shrieking upon the steeds of the wild Barbarians, and as for himself and +his wife and son, Athena knew what saved them! They had lost all but life, +and fearful for that were seeking a cave on Mt. Parnes. Would not the +young man come with them, a thousand dangers lurked upon the way? But +Glaucon did not wait to hear the story out. On he sped up the rocky road. + +"Ah, Mardonius! ah, Artazostra!" he was speaking in his heart, "noble and +brave you are to your peers, but this is your rare handiwork,--and though +you once called me friend, Zeus and Dike still rule, there is a price for +this and you shall tell it out." + +Yet he bethought himself of the old man's warning, and left the beaten +way. At the long steady trot learned in the stadium, he went onward under +the greenwood behind the gleaming river, where the vines and branches +whipped on his face; and now and again he crossed a half-dried brook, +where he swept up a little water in his hands, and said a quick prayer to +the friendly nymphs of the stream. Once or twice he sped through fig +orchards, and snatched at the ripe fruit as he ran, eating without +slackening his course. Presently the river began to bend away to westward. +He knew if he followed it, he came soon to Tanagra, but whether that town +were held by the Persians or burned by them, who could tell? He quitted +the Asopus and its friendly foliage. The bare wide plain of Boeotia was +opening. Concealment was impossible, unless indeed he turned far eastward +toward Attica and took refuge on the foothills of the mountains. But speed +was more precious than safety. He passed Scolus, and found the village +desolate, burned. No human being greeted him, only one or two starving +dogs rushed forth to snap, bristle, and be chased away by a well-sent +stone. Here and yonder in the fields were still the clusters of crows +picking at carrion,--more tokens that Mardonius's Tartar raiders had done +their work too well. Then at last, an hour or more before the sunset, just +as the spurs of Cithaeron, the long mountain over against Attica, began to +thrust their bald summits up before the runner's ken, far ahead upon the +way approached a cloud of dust. The Athenian paused in his run, dashed +into the barren field, and flung himself flat between the furrows. He +heard the hoof-beats of the wiry steppe horses, the clatter of targets and +scabbards, the shrill shouts of the raiders. He lifted his head enough to +see the red streamers on their lance tips flutter past. He let the noise +die away before he dared to take the road once more. The time he lost was +redeemed by a burst of speed. His head was growing very hot, but it was +not time to think of that. + +Already the hills were spreading their shadows, and Plataea was many stadia +away. Knowledge of how much remained made him reckless. He ran on without +his former caution. The plain was again changing to undulating foothills. +He had passed Erythrae now,--another village burned and deserted. He mounted +a slope, was descending to mount another, when lo! over the hill before +came eight riders at full speed. What must be done, must be done quickly. +To plunge into the fallow field again were madness, the horsemen had +surely seen him, and their sure-footed beasts could run over the furrows +like rabbits. Glaucon stood stock still and stretched forth both hands, to +show the horsemen he did not resist them. + +"O Athena Polias," uprose the prayer from his heart, "if thou lovest not +me, forget not thy love for Hellas, for Athens, for Hermione my wife." + +The riders were on him instantly, their crooked swords flew out. They +surrounded their captive, uttering outlandish cries and chatterings, +ogling, muttering, pointing with their swords and lances as if debating +among themselves whether to let the stranger go or hew him in pieces. +Glaucon stood motionless, looking from one to another and asking for +wisdom in his soul. Seven were Tartars, low-browed, yellow-skinned, flat +of nose, with the grins of apes. He might expect the worst from these. But +the eighth showed a long blond beard under his leather helm, and Glaucon +rejoiced; the chief of the band was a Persian and more amenable. + +The Tartars continued gesturing and debating, flourishing their steel +points right at the prisoner's breast. He regarded them calmly, so calmly +that the Persian gave vent to his admiration. + +"Down with your lance-head, Rukhs. By Mithra, I think this Hellene is +brave as he is beautiful! See how he stands. We must have him to the +Prince." + +"Excellency," spoke Glaucon, in his best court Persian, "I am a courier to +the Lord Mardonius. If you are faithful servants of his Eternity the king, +where is your camp?" + +The chief started. + +"On the life of my father, you speak Persian as if you dwelled in Eran at +the king's own doors! What do you here alone upon this road in Hellas?" + +Glaucon put out his hand before answering, caught the tip of Rukhs's +lance, and snapped it short like a reed. He knew the way to win the +admiration of the Barbarians. They yelled with delight, all at least save +Rukhs. + +"Strong as he is brave and handsome," cried the Persian. "Again--who are +you?" + +The Alcmaeonid drew himself to full height and gave his head its lordliest +poise. + +"Understand, Persian, that I have indeed lived long at the king's gates. +Yes,--I have learned my Aryan at the Lord Mardonius's own table, for I am +the son of Attaginus of Thebes, who is not the least of the friends of his +Eternity in Hellas." + +The mention of one of the foremost Medizers of Greece made the subaltern +bend in his saddle. His tone became even obsequious. + +"Ah, I understand. Your Excellency is a courier. You have despatches from +the king?" + +"Despatches of moment just landed from Asia. Now tell me where the army is +encamped." + +"By the Asopus, much to northward. The Hellenes lie to south. Here, Rukhs, +take the noble courier behind you on the horse, and conduct him to the +general." + +"Heaven bless your generosity," cried the runner, with almost precipitate +haste, "but I know the country well, and the worthy Rukhs will not thank +me if I deprive him of his share in your booty." + +"Ah, yes, we have heard of a farm across the hills at Eleutherae that's not +yet been plundered,--handsome wenches, and we'll make the father dig up his +pot of money. Mazda speed you, sir, for we are off." + +"Yeh! yeh!" yelled the seven Tartars, none more loudly than Rukhs, who had +no hankering for conducting a courier back into the camp. So the riders +came and went, whilst Glaucon drew his girdle one notch tighter and ran +onward through the gathering evening. + +The adventure had been a warning. Once Athena had saved him, not perchance +twice,--again he took to the fields. He did not love the sight of the sun +ever lower, on the long brown ridge of Helicon far to west. Until now he +scarce thought enough of self to realize the terrible draughts he had made +upon his treasure-house of strength. Could it be that he--the Isthmionices, +who had crushed down the giant of Sparta before the cheering myriads--could +faint like a weary girl, when the weal of Hellas was his to win or lose? +Why did his tongue burn in his throat as a coal? Why did those feet--so +swift, so ready when he sped from Oropus--lift so heavily? + +As a flash it came over him what he had endured,--the slow agony on the +_Bozra_, the bursting of the bands, the fight for life, the scene with +Themistocles, the sleepless night on the trireme. Now he was running as +the wild hare runs before the baying chase. Could it be that all this race +was vain? + +"For Hellas! For Hermione!" + +Whilst he groaned through his gritted teeth, some malignant god made him +misstep, stumble. He fell between the hard furrows, bruising his face and +hands. After a moment he rose, but rose to sink back again with keen pain +shooting through an ankle. He had turned it. For an instant he sat +motionless, taking breath, then his teeth came together harder. + +"Themistocles trusts me. I carry the fate of Hellas. I can die, but I +cannot fail." + +It was quite dusk now. The brief southern twilight was ending in pale bars +of gold above Helicon. Glaucon rose again; the cold sweat sprang out upon +his forehead. Before his eyes rose darkness, but he did not faint. Some +kind destiny set a stout pole upright in the field,--perhaps for vines to +clamber,--he clutched it, and stood until his sight cleared and the pain a +little abated. He tore the pole from the ground, and reached the roadway. +He must take his chance of meeting more raiders. He had one vast +comfort,--if there had been no battle fought that day, there would be none +before dawn. But he had still weary stadia before him, and running was out +of the question. Ever and anon he would stop his hobbling, take air, and +stare at the vague tracery of the hills,--Cithaeron to southward, Helicon to +west, and northward the wide dark Theban plain. He gave up counting how +many times he halted, how many times he spoke the magic words, "For +Hellas! For Hermione!" and forced onward his way. The moon failed, even +the stars were clouded. A kind of brute instinct guided him. At last--he +guessed it was nearly midnight--he caught once more the flashings of a +shallow river and the dim outlines of shrubbery beside the bank--again the +Asopus. He must take care or he would wander straight into Mardonius's +camp. Therefore he stopped awhile, drank the cool water, and let the +stream purl around his burning foot. Then he set his face to the south, +for there lay Plataea. There he would find the Hellenes. + +He was almost unconscious of everything save the fierce pain and the need +to go forward even to the end. At moments he thought he saw the mountains +springing out of their gloom,--Helicon and Cithaeron beckoning him on, as +with living fingers. + +"Not too late. Marathon was not vain, nor Thermopylae, nor Salamis. You can +save Hellas." + +Who spoke that? He stared into the solitary night. Was he not alone? Then +phantasms came as on a flood. He was in a kind of euthanasy. The pain of +his foot had ceased. He saw the Paradise by Sardis and its bending +feathery palms; he heard the tinkling of the Lydian harps, and Roxana +singing of the magic Oxus, and the rose valleys of Eran. Next Roxana +became Hermione. He was standing at her side on the knoll of Colonus, and +watching the sun sink behind Daphni making the Acropolis glow with red +fire and gold. Yet all the time he knew he was going onward. He must not +stop. + +"For Hellas! For Hermione!" + +At last even the vision of the Violet-Crowned City faded to mist. Had he +reached the end,--the rest by the fields of Rhadamanthus, away from human +strife? The night was ever darkening. He saw nothing, felt nothing, +thought nothing save that he was still going onward, onward. + + * * * * * * * + +At some time betwixt midnight and dawning an Athenian outpost was pacing +his beat outside the lines of Aristeides. The allied Hellenes were +retiring from their position by the Asopus to a more convenient spot by +Plataea, less exposed to the dreaded Persian cavalry, but on the night +march the contingents had become disordered. The Athenians were halting +under arms,--awaiting orders from Pausanias the commander-in-chief. The +outpost--Hippon, a worthy charcoal-burner of Archarnae--was creeping gingerly +behind the willow hedges, having a well-grounded fear of Tartar arrows. +Presently his fox-keen ears caught footfalls from the road. His shield +went up. He couched his spear. His eyes, sharpened by the long darkness, +saw a man hardly running, nor walking, yet dragging one foot and leaning +on a staff. Here was no Tartar, and Hippon sprang out boldly. + +"Halt, stranger, tell your business." + +"For Aristeides." The apparition seemed holding out something in his hand. + +"That's not the watchword. Give it, or I must arrest you." + +"For Aristeides." + +"Zeus smite you, fellow, can't you speak Greek? What have you got for our +general?" + +"For Aristeides." + +The stranger was hoarse as a crow. He was pushing aside the spear and +forcing a packet into Hippon's hands. The latter, sorely puzzled, whistled +through his fingers. A moment more the locharch of the scouting division +and three comrades appeared. + +"Why the alarm? Where's the enemy?" + +"No enemy, but a madman. Find what he wants." + +The locharch in earlier days had kept an oil booth in the Athens Agora and +knew the local celebrities as well as Phormio. + +"Now, friend," he spoke, "your business, and shortly; we've no time for +chaffering." + +"For Aristeides." + +"The fourth time he's said it,--sheep!" cried Hippon, but as he spoke the +newcomer fell forward heavily, groaned once, and lay on the roadway silent +as the dead. The locharch drew forth the horn lantern he had masked under +his chalmys and leaned over the stranger. The light fell on the seal of +the packet gripped in the rigid fingers. + +"Themistocles's seal," he cried, and hastily turned the fallen man's face +upward to the light, when the lantern almost dropped from his own hand. + +"Glaucon the Alcmaeonid! Glaucon the Traitor who was dead! He or his shade +come back from Tartarus." + +The four soldiers stood quaking like aspen, but their leader was of +stouter stuff. Never had his native Attic shrewdness guided him to more +purpose. + +"Ghost, traitor, what not, this man has run himself all but to death. Look +on his face. And Themistocles does not send a courier for nothing. This +packet is for Aristeides, and to Aristeides take it with speed." + +Hippon seized the papyrus. He thought it would fade out of his hands like +a spectre. It did not. The sentinel dropped his spear and ran breathless +toward Plataea, where he knew was his general. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVIII + + + THE COUNCIL OF MARDONIUS + + +Never since Salamis had Persian hopes been higher than that night. What if +the Spartans were in the field at last, and the incessant skirmishing had +been partly to Pausanias's advantage? Secure in his fortified camp by the +Asopus, Mardonius could confidently wait the turn of the tide. His light +Tartar cavalry had cut to pieces the convoys bringing provisions to the +Hellenes. Rumour told that Pausanias's army was ill fed, and his captains +were at loggerheads. Time was fighting for Mardonius. A joyful letter he +had sent to Sardis the preceding morning: "Let the king have patience. In +forty days I shall be banqueting even in Sparta." + +In the evening the Prince sat at council with his commanders. Xerxes had +left behind his own war pavilion, and here the Persians met. Mardonius sat +on the high seat of the dais. Gold, purple, a hundred torches, made the +scene worthy of the monarch himself. Beside the general stood a young +page,--beautiful as Armaiti, fairest of the archangels. All looked on the +page, but discreetly kept their thoughts to whispers, though many had +guessed the secret of Mardonius's companion. + +The debate was long and vehement. Especially Artabazus, general of the +rear-guard, was loud in asserting no battle should be risked. He was a +crafty man, who, the Prince suspected, was his personal enemy, but his +opinion was worth respecting. + +"I repeat what I said before. The Hellenes showed how they could fight at +Thermopylae. Let us retire to Thebes." + +"Bravely said, valiant general," sneered Mardonius, none too civilly. + +"It is mine to speak, yours to follow my opinion as you list. I say we can +conquer these Hellenes with folded hands. Retreat to Thebes; money is +plentiful with us; we can melt our gold cups into coin. Sprinkle bribes +among the hostile chiefs. We know their weakness. Not steel but gold will +unlock the way to Sparta." + +The generalissimo stood up proudly. + +"Bribes and stealth? Did Cyrus and Darius win us empire with these? No, by +the Fiend-Smiter, it was sharp steel and the song of the bow-string that +made Eran to prosper, and prosper to this day. But lest Artabazus think +that in putting on the lion I have forgotten the fox, let the strangers +now come to us stand forth, that he and every other may know how I have +done all things for the glory of my master and the Persian name." + +He smote with his commander's mace upon the bronze ewer on the table. +Instantly there appeared two soldiers, between them two men, one of +slight, one of gigantic, stature, but both in Grecian dress. Artabazus +sprang to his feet. + +"Who are these men--Thebans?" + +"From greater cities than Thebes. You see two new servants of the king, +therefore friends of us all. Behold Lycon of Sparta and Democrates, friend +of Themistocles." + +His speech was Persian, but the newcomers both understood when he named +them. The tall Laconian straightened his bull neck, as in defiance. The +Athenian flushed. His head seemed sinking betwixt his shoulders. Much +wormwood had he drunk of late, but none bitterer than this,--to be welcomed +at the councils of the Barbarian. Artabazus salaamed to his superior half +mockingly. + +"Verily, son of Gobryas, I was wrong. You are guileful as a Greek. There +can be no higher praise." + +The Prince's nostrils twitched. Perhaps he was not saying all he felt. + +"Let your praise await the issue," he rejoined coldly. "Suffice it that +these friends were long convinced of the wisdom of aiding his Eternity, +and to-night come from the camp of the Hellenes to tell all that has +passed and why we should make ready for battle at the dawning." He turned +to the Greeks, ordering in their own tongue, "Speak forth, I am +interpreter for the council." + +An awkward instant followed. Lycon looked on Democrates. + +"You are an Athenian, your tongue is readiest," he whispered. + +"And you the first to Medize. Finish your handiwork," the retort. + +"We are waiting," prompted Mardonius, and Lycon held up his great head and +began in short sentences which the general deftly turned into Persian. + +"Your cavalry has made our position by the Asopus intolerable. All the +springs are exposed. We have to fight every time we try to draw water. +To-day was a meeting of the commanders, many opinions, much wrangling, but +all said we must retire. The town of Plataea is best. It is strong, with +plenty of water. You cannot attack it. To-night our camp has been struck. +The troops begin to retire, but in disorder. The contingent of each city +marches by itself. The Athenians, thanks to Democrates, delay retreating; +the Spartans I have delayed also. I have persuaded Amompharetus, my +cousin, who leads the Pitanate _mora_,(15) and who was not at the council, +that it is cowardly for a Spartan to retreat. He is a sheep-skulled fool +and has believed me. Consequently, he and his men are holding back. The +other Spartans wait for them. At dawn you will find the Athenians and +Spartans alone near their old camping ground, their allies straggling in +the rear. Attack boldly. When the onset joins, Democrates and I will order +our own divisions to retire. The phalanxes will be broken up. With your +cavalry you will have them at mercy, for once the spear-hedge is +shattered, they are lost. The battle will not cost you twenty men." + +Artabazus rose again and showed his teeth. + +"A faithful servant of the king, Mardonius,--and so well is all provided, +do we brave Aryans need even to string our bows?" + +The Prince winced at the sarcasm. + +"I am serving the king, not my own pleasure," he retorted stiffly. "The +son of Gobryas is too well known to have slurs cast on his courage. And +now what questions would my captains ask these Greeks? Promptly--they must +be again in their own lines, or they are missed." + +An officer here or there threw an interrogation. Lycon answered briefly. +Democrates kept sullen silence. He was clearly present more to prove the +good faith of his Medizing than for anything he might say. Mardonius smote +the ewer again. The soldiers escorted the two Hellenes forth. As the +curtains closed behind them, the curious saw that the features of the +beautiful page by the general's side were contracted with disgust. +Mardonius himself spat violently. + +"Dogs, and sons of dogs, let Angra-Mainyu wither them forever. Bear +witness, men of Persia, how, for the sake of our Lord the King, I hold +converse even with these vilest of the vile!" + +Soon the council was broken up. The final commands were given. Every +officer knew his task. The cavalry was to be ready to charge across the +Asopus at gray dawn. With Lycon and Democrates playing their part the +issue was certain, too certain for many a grizzled captain who loved the +ring of steel. In his own tent Mardonius held in his arms the beautiful +page--Artazostra! Her wonderful face had never shone up at his more +brightly than on that night, as he drew back his lips from a long fond +kiss. + +"To-morrow--the triumph. You will be conqueror of Hellas. Xerxes will make +you satrap. I wish we could conquer in fairer fight, but what wrong to +vanquish these Hellenes with their own sly weapons? Do you remember what +Glaucon said?" + +"What thing?" + +"That Zeus and Athena were greater than Mazda the Pure and glorious +Mithra? To-morrow will prove him wrong. I wonder whether he yet +lives,--whether he will ever confess that Persia is irresistible." + +"I do not know. From the evening we parted at Phaleron he has faded from +our world." + +"He was fair as the Amesha-Spentas, was he not? Poor Roxana--she is again +in Sardis now. I hope she has ceased to eat her heart out with vain +longing for her lover. He was noble minded and spoke the truth. How rare +in a Hellene. But what will you do with these two gold-bought traitors, +'friends of the king' indeed?" + +Mardonius's face grew stern. + +"I have promised them the lordships of Athens and of Sparta. The pledge +shall be fulfilled, but after that,"--Artazostra understood his sinister +smile,--"there are many ways of removing an unwelcome vassal prince, if I +be the satrap of Hellas." + +"And you are that in the morning." + +"For your sake," was his cry, as again he kissed her, "I would I were not +satrap of Hellas only, but lord of all the world, that I might give it to +you, O daughter of Darius and Atossa." + +"I am mistress of the world," she answered, "for my world is Mardonius. +To-morrow the battle, the glory, and then what next--Sicily, Carthage, +Italy? For Mazda will give us all things." + + * * * * * * * + +Otherwise talked Democrates and Lycon as they quitted the Persian pickets +and made their way across the black plain, back to the lines of the +Hellenes. + +"You should be happy to-night," said the Athenian. + +"Assuredly. I draw up my net and find it very full of mullets quite to my +liking." + +"Take care it be not so full that it break." + +"Dear Democrates,"--Lycon slapped his paw on the other's shoulder,--"why +always imagine evil? Hermes is a very safe guide. I only hope our victory +will be so complete Sparta will submit without fighting. It will be +awkward to rule a plundered city." + +"I shudder at the thought of being amongst even conquered Athenians; I +shall see a tyrannicide in every boy in the Agora." + +"A stout Persian garrison in your Acropolis is the surest physic against +that." + +"By the dog, Lycon, you speak like a Scythian. Hellene you surely are +not." + +"Hellene I am, and show my native wisdom in seeing that Persia must +conquer and trimming sail accordingly." + +"Persia is not irresistible. With a fair battle--" + +"It will not be a fair battle. What can save Pausanias? Nothing--except a +miracle sent from Zeus." + +"Such as what?" + +"As merciful Hiram's relenting and releasing your dear Glaucon." Lycon's +chuckle was loud. + +"Never, as you hope me to be anything save your mortal enemy, mention that +name again." + +"As you like it--it's no very pretty tale, I grant, even amongst Medizers. +Yet it was most imprudent to let him live." + +"You have never heard the Furies, Lycon." Democrates's voice was so grave +as to dry up the Spartan's banter. "But I shall never see him again, and I +shall possess Hermione." + +"A pretty consolation. _Eu!_ here are our outposts. We must pass for +officers reconnoitring the enemy. You know your part to-morrow. At the +first charge bid your division 'wheel to rear.' Three words, and the thing +is done." + +Lycon gave the watchword promptly to one of Pausanias's outposts. The man +saluted his officers, and said that the Greeks of the lesser states had +retreated far to the rear, that Amompharetus still refused to move his +division, that the Spartans waited for him, and the Athenians for the +Spartans. + +"Noble tidings," whispered the giant, as the two stood an instant, before +each went to his own men. "Behold how Hermes helps us--a great deity." + +"Sometimes I think Nemesis is greater," said Democrates, once again +refusing Lycon's proffered hand. + +"By noon you'll laugh at Nemesis, _philotate_, when we both drink Helbon +wine in Xerxes's tent!" and away went Lycon into the dark. + +Democrates went his own way also. Soon he was in the fallow-field, where +under the warm night the Athenians were stretched, each man in armour, his +helmet for a pillow. A few torches were moving. From a distance came the +hum from a group of officers in excited conversation. As the orator picked +his way among the sleeping men, a locharch with a lantern accosted him +suddenly. + +"You are Democrates the strategus?" + +"Certainly." + +"Aristeides summons you at once. Come." + +There was no reason for refusing. Democrates followed. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIX + + + THE AVENGING OF LEONIDAS + + +Morning at last, ruddy and windy. The Persian host had been long prepared. +The Tartar cavalry with their bulls-hide targets and long lances, the +heavy Persian cuirassiers, the Median and Assyrian archers with their +ponderous wicker-shields, stood in rank waiting only the word that should +dash them as sling-stones on Pausanias and his ill-starred following. The +Magi had sacrificed a stallion, and reported that the holy fire gave every +favouring sign. Mardonius went from his tent, all his eunuchs bowing their +foreheads to the earth and chorussing, "Victory to our Lord, to Persia, +and to the King." + +They brought Mardonius his favourite horse, a white steed of the sacred +breed of Nisaea. The Prince had bound around his turban the gemmed tiara +Xerxes had given him on his wedding-day. Few could wield the Babylonish +cimeter that danced in the chieftain's hand. The captains cheered him +loudly, as they might have cheered the king. + +"Life to the general! To the satrap of Hellas!" + +But beside the Nisaean pranced another, lighter and with a lighter mount. +The rider was cased in silvered scale-armour, and bore only a steel-tipped +reed. + +"The general's page," ran the whisper, and other whispers, far softer, +followed. None heard the quick words passed back and forth betwixt the two +riders. + +"You may be riding to death, Artazostra. What place is a battle for +women?" + +"What place is the camp for the daughter of Darius, when her husband rides +to war? We triumph together; we perish together. It shall be as Mazda +decrees." + +Mardonius answered nothing. Long since he had learned the folly of setting +his will against that of the masterful princess at his side. And was not +victory certain? Was not Artazostra doing even as Semiramis of Nineveh had +done of old? + +"The army is ready, Excellency," declared an adjutant, bowing in his +saddle. + +"Forward, then, but slowly, to await the reconnoitring parties sent toward +the Greeks." + +In the gray morning the host wound out of the stockaded camp. The women +and grooms called fair wishes after them. The far slopes of Cithaeron were +reddening. A breeze whistled down the hills. It would disperse the mist. +Soon the leader of the scouts came galloping, leaped down and salaamed to +the general. "Let my Lord's liver find peace. All is even as our friends +declared. The enemy have in part fled far away. The Athenians halt on a +foot-hill of the mountain. The Laconians sit in companies on the ground, +waiting their division that will not retreat. Let my Lord charge, and +glory waits for Eran!" + +Mardonius's cimeter swung high. + +"Forward, all! Mazda fights for us. Bid our allies the Thebans(16) attack +the Athenians. Ours is the nobler prey--even the men of Sparta." + +"Victory to the king!" thundered the thousands. Confident of triumph, +Mardonius suffered the ranks to be broken, as his myriads rushed onward. +Over the Asopus and its shallow fords they swept, and raced across the +plain-land. Horse mingled with foot; Persians with Tartars. The howlings +in a score of tongues, the bray of cymbals and kettledrums, the clamour of +spear-butts beaten on armour--who may tell it? Having unleashed his wild +beasts, Mardonius dashed before to guide their ragings as he might. The +white Nisaean and its companion led the way across the hard plain. Behind, +as when in the springtime flood the watery wall goes crashing down the +valley, so spread the thousands. A god looking from heaven would not have +forgotten that sight of whirling plumes, plunging steeds, flying steel, in +all the aeons. + +Five stadia, six, seven, eight,--so Mardonius led. Already before him he +could see the glistering crests and long files of the Spartans--the prey he +would crush with one stroke as a vulture swoops over the sparrow. Then +nigh involuntarily his hand drew rein. What came to greet him? A man on +foot--no horseman even. A man of huge stature running at headlong speed. + +The risen sun was now dazzling. The general clapped his hand above his +eyes. Then a tug on the bridle sent the Nisaean on his haunches. + +"Lycon, as Mazda made me!" + +The Spartan was beside them soon, he had run so swiftly. He was so dazed +he barely heeded Mardonius's call to halt and tell his tale. He was almost +naked. His face was black with fear, never more brutish or loathsome. + +"All is betrayed. Democrates is seized. Pausanias and Aristeides are +warned. They will give you fair battle. I barely escaped." + +"Who betrayed you?" cried the Prince. + +"Glaucon the Alcmaeonid, he is risen from the dead. _Ai!_ woe! no fault of +mine." + +Never before had the son of Gobryas smiled so fiercely as when the giant +cowered beneath his darting eyes. The general's sword whistled down on the +skull of the traitor. The Laconian sprawled in the dust without a groan. +Mardonius laughed horribly. + +"A fair price then for unlucky villany. Blessed be Mithra, who suffers me +to give recompense. Wish me joy,"--as his captains came galloping around +him,--"our duty to the king is finished. We shall win Hellas in fair +battle." + +"Then it were well, Excellency," thrust in Artabazus, "since the plot is +foiled, to retire to the camp." + +Mardonius's eyes flashed lightnings. + +"Woman's counsel that! Are we not here to conquer Hellas? Yes, by Mithra +the Glorious, we will fight, though every _daeva_ in hell joins against us. +Re-form the ranks. Halt the charge. Let the bowmen crush the Spartans with +their arrows. Then we will see if these Greeks are stouter than +Babylonian, Lydian, and Egyptian who played their game with Persia to sore +cost. And you, Artabazus, to your rear-guard, and do your duty well." + +The general bowed stiffly. He knew the son of Gobryas, and that +disobedience would have brought Mardonius's cimeter upon his own helmet. +By a great effort the charge was stayed,--barely in time,--for to have flung +that disorganized horde on the waiting Spartan spears would have been +worse than madness. A single stadium sundered the two hosts when Mardonius +brought his men to a stand, set his strong divisions of bowmen in array +behind their wall of shields, and drew up his cavalry on the flanks of the +bowmen. Battle he would give, but it must be cautious battle now, and he +did not love the silence which reigned among the motionless lines of the +Spartans. + +It was bright day at last. The two armies--the whole strength of the +Barbarian, the Spartans with only their Tegean allies--stood facing, as +athletes measuring strength before the grapple. The Spartan line was +thinner than Mardonius's: no cavalry, few bowmen, but shield was set +beside shield, and everywhere tossed the black and scarlet plumes of the +helmets. Men who remembered Thermopylae gripped their spear-stocks tighter. +No long postponing now. On this narrow field, this bit of pebble and +greensward, the gods would cast the last dice for the destiny of Hellas. +All knew that. + +The stolidity of the Spartans was maddening. They stood like bronze +statues. In clear view at the front was a tall man in scarlet chlamys, and +two more in white,--Pausanias and his seers examining the entrails of +doves, seeking a fair omen for the battle. Mardonius drew the turban lower +over his eyes. + +"An end to this truce. Begin your arrows." + +A cloud of bolts answered him. The Persian archers emptied their quivers. +They could see men falling among the foe, but still Pausanias stood beside +the seers, still he gave no signal to advance. The omens doubtless were +unfavourable. His men never shifted a foot as the storm of death flew over +them. Their rigidity was more terrifying than any battle-shout. What were +these men whose iron discipline bound so fast that they could be pelted to +death, and no eyelash seem to quiver? The archers renewed their volley. +They shot against a rock. The Barbarians joined in one rending yell,--their +answer was silence. + +Deliberately, arrows dropping around him as tree-blossoms in the gale, +Pausanias raised his hand. The omens were good. The gods permitted battle. +Deliberately, while men fell dying, he walked to his post on the right +wing. Deliberately, while heaven seemed shaking with the Barbarians' +clamour, his hand went up again. Through a lull in the tumult pealed a +trumpet. _Then the Spartans marched._ + +Slowly their lines of bristling spear-points and nodding crests moved on +like the sea-waves. Shrill above the booming Tartar drums, the blaring +Persian war-horns pierced the screams of their pipers. And the Barbarians +heard that which had never met their ears before,--the chanting of their +foes as the long line crept nearer. + +"Ah!--la--la--la--la! Ah!--la--la--la--la!" deep, prolonged, bellowed in chorus +from every bronze visor which peered above the serried shields. + +"Faster," stormed the Persian captains to their slingers and bowmen, "beat +these madmen down." The rain of arrows and sling-stones was like hail, +like hail it rattled from the shields and helms. Here, there, a form sank, +the inexorable phalanx closed and swept onward. + +"Ah!--la--la--la! Ah!--la--la--la!" + +The chant never ceased. The pipers screamed more shrilly. Eight deep, +unhasting, unresting, Pausanias was bringing his heavy infantry across the +two hundred paces betwixt himself and Mardonius. His Spartan spearmen +might be unlearned, doltish, but they knew how to do one deed and that +surpassingly well,--to march in line though lightnings dashed from heaven, +and to thrust home with their lances. And not a pitiful three hundred, but +ten thousand bold and strong stood against the Barbarian that morning. +Mardonius was facing the finest infantry in the world, and the avenging of +Leonidas was nigh. + +"Ah!--la--la--la! Ah!--la--la--la!" + +Flesh and blood in the Persian host could not wait the death grip longer. +"Let us charge, or let us flee," many a stout officer cried to his chief, +and he sitting stern-eyed on the white horse gave to a Tartar troop its +word, "Go!" + +Then like a mountain stream the wild Tartars charged. The clods flew high +under the hoofs. The yell of the riders, the shock of spears on shields, +the cry of dying men and dying beasts, the stamping, the dust-cloud, took +but a moment. The chant of the Spartans ceased--an instant. An instant the +long phalanx halted, from end to end bent and swayed. Then the dust-cloud +passed, the chanting renewed. Half of the Tartars were spurring back, with +shivered lances, bleeding steeds. The rest,--but the phalanx shook now +here, now there, as the impenetrable infantry strode over red forms that +had been men and horses. And still the Spartans marched, still the pipes +and the war-chant. + +Then for the first time fear entered the heart of Mardonius, son of +Gobryas, and he called to the thousand picked horsemen, who rode beside +him,--not Tartars these, but Persians and Medes of lordly stock, men who +had gone forth conquering and to conquer. + +"Now as your fathers followed Cyrus the Invincible and Darius the +Dauntless, follow you me. Since for the honour of Eran and the king I ride +this day." + +"We ride. For Eran and the king!" shouted the thousand. All the host +joined. Mardonius led straight against the Spartan right wing where +Pausanias's life-guard marched. + + * * * * * * * + +Old soldiers of Lacedaemon fighting their battles in the after days, when a +warrior of Plataea was as a god to each youth in Hellas, would tell how the +Persian cavalrymen rode their phalanx down. + +"And say never," they always added, "the Barbarians know not how to fight +and how to die. Fools say it, not we of Plataea. For our first line seemed +broken in a twinkling. The Pitanate _mora_ was cut to pieces; Athena +Promachus and Ares the City-Waster alone turned back that charge when +Mardonius led the way." + +But turned it was. And the thousand horse, no thousand now, drifted to the +cover of their shield wall, raging, undaunted, yet beaten back. + +Then at last the phalanx locked with the Persian footmen and their rampart +of wicker shields. At short spear length men grinned in each other's +faces, while their veins were turned to fire. Many a soldier--Spartan, +Aryan--had seen his twenty fights, but never a fight like this. And the +Persians--those that knew Greek--heard words flung through their foemen's +helmets that made each Hellene fight as ten. + +"Remember Leonidas! Remember Thermopylae!" + +Orders there were none; the trumpets were drowned in the tumult. Each man +fought as he stood, knowing only he must slay the man before him, while +slowly, as though by a cord tighter and ever tighter drawn, the Persian +shield wall was bending back before the unrelenting thrusting of the +Spartans. Then as a cord snaps so broke the barrier. One instant down and +the Hellenes were sweeping the light-armed Asiatic footmen before them, as +the scythe sweeps down the standing grain. So with the Persian infantry, +for their scanty armour and short spears were at terrible disadvantage, +but the strength of the Barbarian was not spent. Many times Mardonius led +the cavalry in headlong charge, each repulse the prelude to a fiercer +shock. + +"For Mazda, for Eran, for the king!" + +The call of the Prince was a call that turned his wild horsemen into +demons, but demons who strove with gods. The phalanx was shaken, halted +even, broken never; and foot by foot, fathom by fathom, it brushed the +Barbarian horde back across the blood-bathed plain,--and to Mardonius's +shout, a more terrible always answered:-- + +"Remember Leonidas! Remember Thermopylae!" + +The Prince seemed to bear a charmed life as he fought. He was in the +thickest fray. He sent the white Nisaean against the Laconian spears and +beat down a dozen lance-points with his sword. If one man's valour could +have turned the tide, his would have wrought the miracle. And always +behind, almost in reach of the Grecian sling-stones, rode that other,--the +page in the silvered mail,--nor did any harm come to this rider. But after +the fight had raged so long that men sank unwounded,--gasping, stricken by +the heat and press,--the Prince drew back a little from the fray to a +rising in the plain, where close by a rural temple of Demeter he could +watch the drifting fight, and he saw the Aryans yielding ground finger by +finger, yet yielding, and the phalanx impregnable as ever. Then he sent an +aide with an urgent message. + +"To Artabazus and the reserve. Bid him take from the camp all the guards, +every man, every eunuch that can lift a spear, and come with speed, or the +day is lost." + +The adjutant's spurs grew red as he pricked away, while Mardonius wheeled +the Nisaean and plunged back into the thickest fight. + +"For Mazda, for Eran, for the king!" + +His battle-call pealed even above the hellish din. The Persian nobles who +had never ridden to aught save victory turned again. Their last charge was +their fiercest. They bent the phalanx back like an inverted bow. Their +footmen, reckless of self, plunged on the Greeks and snapped off the +spear-points with their naked hands. Mardonius was never prouder of his +host than in that hour. Proud--but the charge was vain. As the tide swept +back, as the files of the Spartans locked once more, he knew his men had +done their uttermost. They had fought since dawn. Their shield wall was +broken. Their quivers were empty. Was not Mazda turning against them? Had +not enough been dared for that king who lounged at ease in Sardis? + +"For Mazda, for Eran, for the king!" + +Mardonius's shout had no answer. Here, there, he saw horsemen and footmen, +now singly, now in small companies, drifting backward across the plain to +the last refuge of the defeated, the stockaded camp by the Asopus. The +Prince called on his cavalry, so few about him now. + +"Shall we die as scared dogs? Remember the Aryan glory. Another charge!" + +His bravest seemed never to hear him. The onward thrust of the phalanx +quickened. It was gaining ground swiftly at last. Then the Spartans were +dashing forward like men possessed. + +"The Athenians have vanquished the Thebans. They come to join us. On, men +of Lacedaemon, ours alone must be this victory!" + +The shout of Pausanias was echoed by his captains. To the left and not far +off charged a second phalanx,--five thousand nodding crests and gleaming +points,--Aristeides bringing his whole array to his allies' succour. But +his help was not needed. The sight of his coming dashed out the last +courage of the Barbarians. Before the redoubled shock of the Spartans the +Asiatics crumbled like sand. Even whilst these broke once more, the +adjutant drew rein beside Mardonius. + +"Lord, Artabazus is coward or traitor. Believing the battle lost, he has +fled. There is no help to bring." + +The Prince bowed his head an instant, while the flight surged round him. +The Nisaean was covered with blood, but his rider spurred him across the +path of a squadron of flying Medians. + +"Turn! Are you grown women!" Mardonius smote the nearest with his sword. +"If we cannot as Aryans conquer, let us at least as Aryans die!" + +"_Ai! ai!_ Mithra deserts us. Artabazus is fled. Save who can!" + +They swept past him. He flung himself before a band of Tartars. He had +better pleaded with the north wind to stay its course. Horse, foot, +Babylonians, Ethiopians, Persians, Medes, were huddled in fleeing rout. +"To the camp," their cry, but Mardonius, looking on the onrushing +phalanxes knew there was no refuge there.... + +And now sing it, O mountains and rivers of Hellas. Sing it, Asopus, to +Spartan Eurotas, and you to hill-girt Alphaeus. And let the maidens, +white-robed and poppy-crowned, sweep in thanksgiving up to the welcoming +temples,--honouring Zeus of the Thunders, Poseidon the Earth-Shaker, Athena +the Mighty in War. The Barbarian is vanquished. The ordeal is ended. +Thermopylae was not in vain, nor Salamis. Hellas is saved, and with her +saved the world. + + * * * * * * * + +Again on the knoll by the temple, apart from the rushing fugitives, +Mardonius reined. His companion was once more beside him. He leaned that +she might hear him through the tumult. + +"The battle is lost. The camp is defenceless. What shall we do?" + +Artazostra flung back the gold-laced cap and let the sun play over her +face and hair. + +"We are Aryans," was all her answer. + +He understood, but even whilst he was reaching out to catch her bridle +that their horses might run together, he saw her lithe form bend. The +arrow from a Laconian helot had smitten through the silvered mail. He saw +the red spring out over her breast. With a quick grasp he swung her before +him on the white horse. She smiled up in his face, never lovelier. + +"Glaucon was right," she said,--their lips were very close,--"Zeus and +Athena are greater than Mazda and Mithra. The future belongs to Hellas. +But we have naught for shame. We have fought as Aryans, as the children of +conquerors and kings. We shall be glad together in Garonmana the Blessed, +and what is left to dread?" + +A quiver passed through her. The Spartan spear-line was close. Mardonius +looked once across the field. His men were fleeing like sheep. And so it +passed,--the dream of a satrapy of Hellas, of wider conquests, of an empire +of the world. He kissed the face of Artazostra and pressed her still form +against his breast. + +"For Mazda, for Eran, for the king!" he shouted, and threw away his sword. +Then he turned the head of his wounded steed and rode on the Spartan +lances. + + + + + CHAPTER XL + + + THE SONG OF THE FURIES + + +Themistocles had started from Oropus with Simonides, a small guard of +mariners, and a fettered prisoner, as soon as the _Nausicaae's_ people were +a little rested. Half the night they themselves were plodding on wearily. +At Tanagra the following afternoon a runner with a palm branch met them. + +"Mardonius is slain. Artabazus with the rear-guard has fled northward. The +Athenians aided by the Spartans stormed the camp. Glory to Athena, who +gives us victory!" + +"And the traitors?" Themistocles showed surprisingly little joy. + +"Lycon's body was found drifting in the Asopus. Democrates lies fettered +by Aristeides's tents." + +Then the other Athenians broke forth into paeans, but Themistocles bowed +his head and was still, though the messenger told how Pausanias and his +allies had taken countless treasure, and now were making ready to attack +disloyal Thebes. So the admiral and his escort went at leisure across +Boeotia, till they reached the Hellenic host still camped near the +battle-field. There Themistocles was long in conference with Aristeides +and Pausanias. After midnight he left Aristeides's tent. + +"Where is the prisoner?" he asked of the sentinel before the headquarters. + +"Your Excellency means the traitor?" + +"I do." + +"I will guide you." The soldier took a torch and led the way. The two went +down dark avenues of tents, and halted at one where five hoplites stood +guard with their spears ready, five more slept before the entrance. + +"We watch him closely, _kyrie_," explained the decarch, saluting. +"Naturally we fear suicide as well as escape. Two more are within the +tent." + +"Withdraw them. Do you all stand at distance. For what happens I will be +responsible." + +The two guards inside emerged yawning. Themistocles took the torch and +entered the squalid hair-cloth pavilion. The sentries noticed he had a +casket under his cloak. + +"The prisoner sleeps," said a hoplite, "in spite of his fetters." + +Themistocles set down the casket and carefully drew the tent-flap. With +silent tread he approached the slumberer. The face was upturned; white it +was, but it showed the same winsome features that had won the clappings a +hundred times in the Pnyx. The sleep seemed heavy, dreamless. + +Themistocles's own lips tightened as he stood in contemplation, then he +bent to touch the other's shoulder. + +"Democrates,"--no answer. "Democrates,"--still silence. "Democrates,"--a +stirring, a clanking of metal. The eyes opened,--for one instant a smile. + +"_Ei_, Themistocles, it is you?" to be succeeded by a flash of unspeakable +horror. "O Zeus, the gyves! That I should come to this!" + +The prisoner rose to a sitting posture upon his truss of straw. His +fettered hands seized his head. + +"Peace," ordered the admiral, gently. "Do not rave. I have sent the +sentries away. No one will hear us." + +Democrates grew calmer. "You are merciful. You do not know how I was +tempted. You will save me." + +"I will do all I can." Themistocles's voice was solemn as an aeolian harp, +but the prisoner caught at everything eagerly. + +"Ah, you can do so much. Pausanias fought the battle, but they call you +the true saviour of Hellas. They will do anything you say." + +"I am glad." Themistocles's face was impenetrable as the sphinx's. +Democrates seized the admiral's red chlamys with his fettered hands. + +"You will save me! I will fly to Sicily, Carthage, the Tin Isles, as you +wish. Have you forgotten our old-time friendship?" + +"I loved you," spoke the admiral, tremulously. + +"Ah, recall that love to-night!" + +"I do." + +"O piteous Zeus, why then is your face so awful? If you will aid me to +escape--" + +"I will aid you." + +"Blessings, blessings, but quick! I fear to be stoned to death by the +soldiers in the morning. They threaten to crucify--" + +"They shall not." + +"Blessings, blessings,--can I escape to-night?" + +"Yes," but Themistocles's tone made the prisoner's blood run chill. He +cowered helplessly. The admiral stood, his own fine face covered with a +mingling of pity, contempt, pain. + +"Democrates, hearken,"--his voice was hard as flint. "We have seized your +camp chest, found the key to your ciphers, and know all your +correspondence with Lycon. We have discovered your fearful power of +forgery. Hermes the Trickster gave it you for your own destruction. We +have brought Hiram hither from the ship. This night he has ridden the +'Little Horse.'(17) He has howled out everything. We have seized Bias and +heard his story. There is nothing to conceal. From the beginning of your +peculation of the public money, till the moment when, the prisoners say, +you were in Mardonius's camp, all is known to us. You need not confess. +There is nothing worth confessing." + +"I am glad,"--great beads were on the prisoner's brow,--"but you do not +realize the temptation. Have you never yourself been betwixt Scylla and +Charybdis? Have I not vowed every false step should be the last? I fought +against Lycon. I fought against Mardonius. They were too strong. Athena +knoweth I did not crave the tyranny of Athens! It was not that which drove +me to betray Hellas." + +"I believe you. But why did you not trust me at the first?" + +"I hardly understand." + +"When first your need of money drove you to crime, why did you not come to +me? You knew I loved you. You knew I looked on you as my political son and +heir in the great work of making Athens the light of Hellas. I would have +given you the gold,--yes, fifty talents." + +"_Ai, ai_, if I had only dared! I thought of it. I was afraid." + +"Right." Themistocles's lip was curling. "You are more coward than knave +or traitor. Phobos, Black Fear, has been your leading god, not Hermes. And +now--" + +"But you have promised I shall escape." + +"You shall." + +"To-night? What is that you have?" Themistocles was opening the casket. + +"The papers seized in your chest. They implicate many noble Hellenes in +Corinth, Sicyon, Sparta. Behold--" Themistocles held one papyrus after +another in the torch-flame,--"here is crumbling to ashes the evidence that +would destroy them all as Medizers. Mardonius is dead. Let the war die +with him. Hellas is safe." + +"Blessings, blessings! Help me to escape. You have a sword. Pry off these +gyves. How easy for you to let me fly!" + +"Wait!" The admiral's peremptory voice silenced the prisoner. Themistocles +finished his task. Suddenly, however, Democrates howled with animal fear. + +"What are you taking now--a goblet?" + +"Wait." Themistocles was indeed holding a silver cup and flask. "Have I +not said you should escape this captivity--to-night?" + +"Be quick, then, the night wanes fast." + +The admiral strode over beside the creature who plucked at his hem. + +"Give ear again, Democrates. Your crimes against Athens and Hellas were +wrought under sore temptation. The money you stole from the public chest, +if not returned already, I will myself make good. So much is forgiven." + +"You are a true friend, Themistocles." The prisoner's voice was husky, but +the admiral's eyes flashed like flint-stones struck by the steel. + +"Friend!" he echoed. "Yes, by Zeus Orcios, guardian of oaths and +friendship, you had a friend. Where is he now?" + +Democrates lay on the turf floor of the tent, not even groaning. + +"You had a friend,"--the admiral's intensity was awful. "You blasted his +good name, you sought his life, you sought his wife, you broke every bond, +human or divine, to destroy him. At last, to silence conscience' sting, +you thought you did a deed of mercy in sending him in captivity to a death +in life. Fool! Nemesis is not mocked. Glaucon has lain at death's door. He +has saved Hellas, but at a price. The surgeons say he will live, but that +his foot is crippled. Glaucon can never run again. You have brought him +misery. You have brought anguish to Hermione, the noblest woman in Hellas, +whom you--ah! mockery--professed to hold in love! You have done worse than +murder. Yet I have promised you shall escape this night. Rise up." + +Democrates staggered to his feet clumsily, only half knowing what he did. +Themistocles was extending the silver cup. "Escape. Drink!" + +"What is this cup?" The prisoner had turned gray. + +"Hemlock, coward! Did you not bid Glaucon to take his life that night in +Colonus? The death you proffered him in his innocency I proffer you now in +your guilt. Drink!" + +"You have called me friend. You have said you loved me. I dare not die. A +little time! Pity! Mercy! What god can I invoke?" + +"None. Cerberus himself would not hearken to such as you. Drink." + +"Pity, by our old-time friendship!" + +The admiral's tall form straightened. + +"Themistocles the Friend is dead; Themistocles the Just is here,--drink." + +"But you promised escape?" The prisoner's whisper was just audible. + +"Ay, truly, from the court-martial before the roaring camp in the morning, +the unmasking of all your accomplices, the deeper shame of every one-time +friend, the blazoning of your infamy in public evidence through Hellas, +the soldiers howling for your blood, the stoning, perchance the plucking +in pieces. By the gods Olympian, by the gods Infernal, do your past lovers +one last service--drink!" + +That was not all Themistocles said, that was all Democrates heard. In his +ears sounded, even once again, the song of the Furies,--never so clearly as +now. + + "With scourge and with ban + We prostrate the man + Who with smooth-woven wile + And a fair-faced smile + Hath planted a snare for his friend! + Though fleet, we shall find him, + Though strong, we shall bind him, + Who planted a snare for his friend!" + +Nemesis--Nemesis, the implacable goddess, had come for her own at last. + +Democrates took the cup. + + + + + CHAPTER XLI + + + THE BRIGHTNESS OF HELIOS + + +The day that disloyal Thebes surrendered came the tidings of the crowning +of the Hellenes' victories. At Mycale by Samos the Greek fleets had +disembarked their crews and defeated the Persians almost at the doors of +the Great King in Sardis. Artabazus had escaped through Thrace to Asia in +caitiff flight. The war--at least the perilous part thereof--was at end. +There might be more battles with the Barbarian, but no second Salamis or +Plataea. + +The Spartans had found the body of Mardonius pierced with five lances--all +in front. Pausanias had honoured the brave dead,--the Persian had been +carried from the battle-ground on a shield, and covered by the red cloak +of a Laconian general. But the body mysteriously disappeared. Its fate was +never known. Perhaps the curious would have gladly heard what Glaucon on +his sick-bed told Themistocles, and what Sicinnus did afterward. Certain +it is that the shrewd Asiatic later displayed a costly ring which the +satrap Zariaspes, Mardonius's cousin, sent him "for a great service to the +house of Gobryas." + + * * * * * * * + +On the same day that Thebes capitulated the household of Hermippus left +Troezene to return to Athens. When they had told Hermione all that had +befallen,--the great good, the little ill,--she had not fainted, though +Cleopis had been sure thereof. The colour had risen to her cheeks, the +love-light to her eyes. She went to the cradle where Phoenix cooed and +tossed his baby feet. + +"Little one, little one," she said, while he beamed up at her, "you have +not to avenge your father now. You have a better, greater task, to be as +fair in body and still more in mind as he." + +Then came the rush of tears, the sobbing, the laughter, and Lysistra and +Cleopis, who feared the shock of too much joy, were glad. + +The _Nausicaae_ bore them to Peiraeus. The harbour towns were in black +ruins, for Mardonius had wasted everything before retiring to Boeotia for +his last battle. In Athens, as they entered it, the houses were roofless, +the streets scattered with rubbish. But Hermione did not think of these +things. The Agora at last,--the porticos were only shattered, fire-scarred +pillars,--and everywhere were tents and booths and bustle,--the brisk +Athenians wasting no time in lamentation, but busy rebuilding and making +good the loss. Above Hermione's head rose a few blackened columns,--all +that was left of the holy house of Athena,--but the crystalline air and the +red Rock of the Acropolis no Persian had been able to take away. + +And even as Hermione crossed the Agora she heard a shouting, a word +running from lip to lip as a wave leaps over the sea. + +In the centre of the buzzing mart she stopped. All the blood sprang to her +face, then left it. She passed her fingers over her hair, and waited with +twitching, upturned face. Through the hucksters' booths, amid the +clamouring buyers and sellers, went a runner, striking left and right with +his staff, for the people were packing close, and he had much ado to clear +the way. Horsemen next, prancing chargers, the prizes from the Barbarian, +and after them a litter. Noble youths bore it, sons of the Eupatrid houses +of Athens. At sight of the litter the buzz of the Agora became a roar. + +"The beautiful! The fortunate! The deliverer! _Io! Io, paean!_" + +Hermione stood; only her eyes followed the litter. Its curtains were flung +back; she saw some one within, lying on purple cushions. She saw the +features, beautiful as Pentelic marble and as pale. She cared not for the +people. She cared not that Phoenix, frighted by the shouting, had begun to +wail. The statue in the litter moved, rose on one elbow. + +"Ah, dearest and best,"--his voice had the old-time ring, his head the +old-time poise,--"you need not fear to call me husband now!" + +"Glaucon," she cried. "I am not fit to be your wife. I am not fit to kiss +your feet." + + * * * * * * * + +They set the litter down. Even little Simonides, though a king among the +curious, found the Acropolis peculiarly worthy of his study. Enough that +Hermione's hands were pressing her husband, and these two cared not +whether a thousand watched or only Helios on high. Penelope was greeting +the returning Odysseus:-- + + "Welcome even as to shipmen + On the swelling, raging sea; + When Poseidon flings the whirlwind, + When a thousand blasts roam free, + Then at last the land appeareth;-- + E'en so welcome in her sight + Was her lord, her arms long clasped him, + And her eyes shone pure and bright." + +After a long time Glaucon commanded, "Bring me our child," and Cleopis +gladly obeyed. Phoenix ceased weeping and thrust his red fists in his +father's face. + +"_Ei_, pretty snail," said Glaucon, pressing him fast by one hand, whilst +he held his mother by the other, "if I say you are a merry wight, the +nurse will not marvel any more." + +But Hermione had already heard from Niobe of the adventure in the +market-place at Troezene. + +The young men were just taking up the litter, when the Agora again broke +into cheers. Themistocles, saviour of Hellas, had crossed to Glaucon. The +admiral--never more worshipped than now, when every plan he wove seemed +perfect as a god's--took Glaucon and Hermione, one by each hand. + +"Ah, _philotatoi_," he said, "to all of us is given by the sisters above +so much bliss and so much sorrow. Some drink the bitter first, some the +sweet. And you have drained the bitter to the lees. Therefore look up at +the Sun-King boldly. He will not darken for you again." + +"Where now?" asked Hermione, in all things looking to her husband. + +"To the Acropolis," ordered Glaucon. "If the temple is desolate, the Rock +is still holy. Let us give thanks to Athena." + +He even would have left the litter, had not Themistocles firmly forbidden. +In time the Alcmaeonid's strength would return, though never the speed that +had left the stadia behind whilst he raced to save Hellas. + +They mounted the Rock. From above, in the old-time brightness, the noonday +light, the sunlight of Athens, sprang down to them. Hermione, looking on +Glaucon's face, saw him gaze eagerly upon her, his child, the sacred Rock, +and the glory from Helios. Then his face wore a strange smile she could +not understand. She did not know that he was saying in his heart:-- + +"And I thought for the rose vales of Bactria to forfeit--this!" + +They were on the summit. The litter was set down on the projecting spur by +the southwest corner. The area of the Acropolis was desolation, ashes, +drums of overturned pillars, a few lone and scarred columns. The works of +man were in ruin, but the works of the god, of yesterday, to-day, and +forever were yet the same. They turned their backs on the ruin. Westward +they looked--across land and sea, beautiful always, most beautiful now, for +had they not been redeemed with blood and tears? The Barbarian was +vanquished; the impossible accomplished. Hellas and Athens were their own, +with none to take away. + +They saw the blue bay of Phaleron. They saw the craggy height of Munychia, +Salamis with its strait of the victory, farther yet the brown dome of +Acro-Corinthus and the wide breast of the clear Saronian sea. To the left +was Hymettus the Shaggy, to right the long crest of Daphni, behind them +rose Pentelicus, home of the marble that should take the shape of the +gods. With one voice they fell to praising Athens and Hellas, wisely or +foolishly, according to their wit. Only Hermione and Glaucon kept silence, +hand within hand, and speaking fast,--not with their lips,--but with their +eyes. + +Then at the end Themistocles spoke, and as always spoke the best. + +"We have flung back the Barbarian. We have set our might against the +God-King and have conquered. Athens lies in ruins. We shall rebuild her. +We shall make her more truly than before the 'Beautiful,' the +'Violet-Crowned City,' worthy of the guardian Athena. The conquering of +the Persian was hard. The making of Athens immortal by the beauty of our +lives, and words, and deeds is harder. Yet in this also we shall conquer. +Yea, verily, for the day shall come that wherever the eye is charmed by +the beautiful, the heart is thrilled by the noble, or the soul yearns +after the perfect,--there in the spirit shall stand Athens." + + * * * * * * * + +After they had prayed to the goddess, they went down from the Rock and its +vision of beauty. Below a mule car met them. They set Glaucon and Hermione +with the babe therein, and these three were driven over the Sacred Way +toward the purple-bosomed hills, through the olive groves and the pine +trees, across the slope of Daphni, to rest and peace in +Eleusis-by-the-Sea. + + + + + + + STANDARD MACMILLAN FICTION + + + -------------- + +_By WILLIAM STEARNS DAVIS_ + +A Friend of Caesar + +A TALE OF THE FALL OF THE ROMAN REPUBLIC + +"As a story ... there can be no question of its success.... While the +beautiful love of Cornelia and Drusus lies at the sound sweet heart of the +story, to say so is to give a most meagre idea of the large sustained +interest of the whole.... 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The love story betrays the apprentice hand, but +the description of the fight in the aldermanic council is a capital piece +of work."--_The Congregationalist._ + + $1.50 + +The Way of the Gods + +By JOHN LUTHER LONG + +As the readers of "Madam Butterfly" know, there is no one, since the death +of Lafcadio Hearn, who can make Japanese life so charming as does Mr. +Long. This story of the little samurai, hardly big enough to be a soldier, +and of how the fair eta Hoshiko met his obligations for him, is very real +and appealing. + + Cloth, $1.50 + +The Vine of Sibmah + +By Dr. ANDREW MACPHAIL + +"The book is taut with action and breathless climaxes. Its principal +character, a soldier, has for his friend a most engaging pirate. This +combination alone makes interesting reading."--_Chicago Evening Post._ + + Cloth, $1.50 + + + + + + FOOTNOTES + + + 1 A word conveying at once "welcome!" and "farewell!" + + 2 The chief magistrate of an Attic commune. + + 3 Attic law allowed a husband to will his wife to a friend. + + 4 A kind of grasshopper peculiar to Greece. + + 5 A kind of beetle common in Greece. + + 6 "Give herself airs." + + 7 The police magistrates of Athens. + + 8 A number, of course, grossly exaggerated. + + 9 A pottage peculiar to Sparta, made of lumps of meat, salt, and much + vinegar. + + 10 Equivalent to crying "Hound!" in English. + + 11 The serfs of the Spartans. + + 12 The Phoenician Hercules. + + 13 Nearly two hundred miles. + + 14 Approximately September. + + 15 A division in the Spartan army. + + 16 Who in full force had joined the Persians. + + 17 The rack. + + + + + + TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE + + +The author's footnotes have been moved to the end of the volume. + +Blackletter has been marked with asterisks. + +The following typographical errors were corrected: + + page 6, "gridle" changed to "girdle" + page 8, "seashore" changed to "sea-shore" + page 23, "earthern" changed to "earthen" + page 24, "Thacian" changed to "Thasian" + page 29, "good humoredly" changed to "good-humouredly" + page 31, "Mantineia" changed to "Mantinea" + page 32, "honor" changed to "honour" + page 63, "waterpots" changed to "water-pots" + page 65, "humorous" changed to "humourous" + page 90, "Nausicaea" changed to "Nausicaae" + page 92, "pentaconters" changed to "penteconters" + page 93, missing quote added before "We can say" + page 95, "he" changed to "be" + page 101, comma changed to period after "house was out" + page 107, "fish-monger" changed to "fishmonger" + page 117, added italics to "Ai!" + page 133, "Baylonish" changed to "Babylonish" + page 145, "Neverthless" changed to "Nevertheless" + page 146, "haircloth" changed to "hair-cloth" + page 157, "sailcloth" changed to "sail-cloth" + page 173, semicolon added after "beautiful" + page 176, single quote changed to double quote after "kings reign + forever!" + page 196, "intrust" changed to "entrust" + page 229, "torchlight" changed to "torch-light" + page 230, "goatskin" changed to "goat-skin" + page 238, comma removed after "Themistocles" + page 280, "Ameinas" changed to "Ameinias" + page 283, "Ameinas's" changed to "Ameinias's" + page 288, "renegadoes" changed to "renegades" + page 301, "Phelgon's" changed to "Phlegon's" + page 324, removed italics from "Artemisia" + page 325, "maelstrom" changed to "maelstrom" + page 327, "Psytalleia" changed to "Psyttaleia" + page 368, "fagots" changed to "faggots" + page 377, "warships" changed to "war-ships" + page 396, "lieutenant" changed to "lieutenants" + page 404, missing period added after "are great gods" + page 419, "bowstring" changed to "bow-string" + page 424, single quote removed after "Such as what?" + page 432, "Pinatate" changed to "Pitanate" + page 445, comma added after "Zariaspes", "Gobyras" changed to + "Gobryas" + page 451, "Caesar" changed to "Caesar" + +Some variants in spelling, capitalization or hyphenation which cannot be +regarded as simple typographical errors have been retained. + + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VICTOR OF SALAMIS*** + + + + CREDITS + + +December 22, 2008 + + Project Gutenberg TEI edition 1 + Produced by Mark C. 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