ess, he did not know. At
last he stirred himself.

"I cannot stand gaping like a fool forever. An omen, by every god an omen!
Ah! what am I to do?" He glanced toward the sky in vain hope of a lucky
raven or eagle winging out of the east, but saw only blue and brightness.
Then his eye went down the street, and at the glance the warm blood
tingled from his forehead to his heels.

She was passing,--Hermione, child of Hermippus. She walked before, two
comely maids went after with her stool and parasol; but they were the
peonies beside the rose. She had thrown her blue veil back. The sun played
over the sheen of her hair. As she moved, her floating saffron dress of
the rare muslin of Amorgos now revealed her delicate form, now clothed her
in an enchanting cloud. She held her head high, as if proud of her own
grace and of the beauty and fair name of her husband. She never looked
upward, nor beheld how Democrates's eyes grew like bright coals as he
gazed on her. He saw her clear high forehead, he heard--or thought he heard
despite the jar of the street--the rustle of the muslin robe. Hermione
passed, nor ever knew how, by taking this way from the house of a friend,
she coloured the skein of life for three mortals--for herself, her husband,
and Democrates.

Democrates followed her with his eyes until she vanished around the
fountain at the street corner; then sprang back from the window. The
workings of his face were terrible. It was an instant when men grasp the
godlike or sink to the demon, when they do deeds never to be recalled.

"The omen!" he almost cried, "the omen! Not Zeus but Hermes the Guileful
sent it. He will be with me. She is Glaucon's wife. But if not his, whose
then but mine? I will do the deed to the uttermost. The god is with me."

He flung the casket upon the table and spread its fateful contents again
before him. His hand flew over the papyrus with marvellous speed and
skill. He knew that all his faculties were at his full command and
unwontedly acute.

Bias was surprised at his sport by a sudden clapping of his master's
hands.

"What is it, _kyrie_?"

"Go to Agis. He keeps the gaming-house in the Ceramicus. You know where.
Tell him to come hither instantly. He shall not lack reward. Make your
feet fly. Here is something to speed them."

He flung at the boy a coin. Bias opened eyes and mouth in wonder. It was
not silver, but a golden daric.

"Don't blink at it, sheep, but run. Bring Agis," order