one 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 P