t would be back in time,
unless hindered in some unforeseen way.

The last hour came. The guards led Damon to the place of crucifixion,
where he again asserted his faith in his friend, adding, however, that
he sincerely hoped Pythias would come too late, so that he might die in
his stead.

Just as the guards were about to nail Damon to the cross, Pythias dashed
up, pale, bloodstained, and disheveled, and flung his arms around his
friend's neck with a sob of relief. For the first time Damon now turned
pale, and began to shed tears of bitter regret.

In a few hurried, panting words, Pythias explained the cause of his
delay, and, loosing his friend's bonds with his own hands, bade the
guards bind him instead.

Dionysius, who had come to see the execution, was so touched by this
true friendship, that for once he forgot his cruelty, and let both young
men go free, saying that he would not have believed such devotion
possible had he not seen it with his own eyes.

This friendship, which wrung tears from the grim executioners, and
touched the tyrant's heart, has become proverbial. When men are devoted
friends, they are often compared to Damon and Pythias, whose story has
been a favorite with poets and playwrights.

LXXXIII. THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES.

Dionysius, tyrant of Syracuse, was not happy, in spite of all his wealth
and power. He was especially haunted by the constant fear that some one
would murder him, for he had been so cruel that he had made many bitter
enemies.

We are told that he was so afraid, that he never went out unless
surrounded by guards, sword in hand, and never walked into any room
until his servants had examined every nook and corner, and made sure
that no murderer was hiding there.

The tyrant even carried his caution so far, that no one was allowed to
come into his presence until thoroughly searched, so as to make sure
that the visitor had no weapon hidden about his person. When his barber
once jokingly said that the tyrant's life was daily at his mercy,
Dionysius would no longer allow the man to shave him.

Instead of the barber, Dionysius made his wife and daughter do this
service for him, until, growing afraid of them also, he either did it
himself or let his beard grow.

Suspicious people are never happy; and, as Dionysius thought that
everybody had as evil thoughts as himself, he was always expecting
others to rob or murder or injure him in some way.

His sleep, even, was haun