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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.
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 Phœnix 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.
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 Phœnix ceased to be the focus of attention.
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