noise. The good old
Knakias, our faithful slave, just reached the door as all the bolts
gave way, and, rushing through the entrance-hall into the peristyle, the
andronitis, and so on to us, crashing the door between, came a troop of
soldiers. Grandmother showed them the letter by which Amasis secured our
house from all attack and made it a sure refuge, but they laughed
the writing to scorn and showed us on their side a document with the
crown-prince's seal, in which we were sternly commanded to deliver up
Phanes' children at once to this rough troop of men. Theopompus reproved
the soldiers for their roughness, telling them that the children came
from Corinth and had no connection with Phanes; but the captain of the
troop defied and sneered at him, pushed my grandmother rudely away,
forced his way into her own apartment, where among her most precious
treasures, at the head of her own bed, the two children lay sleeping
peacefully, dragged them out of their little beds and took them in an
open boat through the cold night-air to the royal city. In a few days we
heard the boy was dead. They say he has been killed by Psamtik's orders;
and the little girl, so sweet and dear, is lying in a dismal dungeon,
and pining for her father and for us. Oh, dearest, isn't it a painful
thing that sorrows such as these should come to mar our perfect
happiness? My eyes weep joy and sorrow in the same moment, and my lips,
which have just been laughing with you, have now to tell you this sad
story."

"I feel your pain with you, my child, but it makes my hand clench with
rage instead of filling my eyes with tears. That gentle boy whom you
loved, that little girl who now sits weeping in the dark dungeon, shall
both be revenged. Trust me; before the Nile has risen again, a powerful
army will have entered Egypt, to demand satisfaction for this murder."

"Oh, dearest, how your eyes are glowing! I never saw you look so
beautiful before. Yes, yes, the boy must be avenged, and none but you
must be his avenger."

"My gentle Sappho is becoming warlike too."

"Yes, women must feel warlike when wickedness is so triumphant; women
rejoice too when such crimes are punished. Tell me has war been declared
already?"

"Not yet; but hosts on hosts are marching to the valley of the Euphrates
to join our main army."

"My courage sinks as quickly as it rose. I tremble at the word, the mere
word, war. How many childless mothers Ares makes, how many young fair