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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.
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.
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, pæan! crown with laurel and myrtle and pine, Io, pæan! haste to crown him with olive, Athena’s dark vine.
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—”
“And two minæ 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.
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.
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!”
“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 Phœnix? In him will not Glaucon the Beautiful live again?
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.”
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