es shook his head wearily.

"How can we say you are innocent? You never visited the Babylonian?"

"Never. Never!"

"Polus and Lampaxo swear otherwise. The letter?"

"A forgery."

"Impossible. Is the forger Democrates or I?"

"Some god has done this thing in malice, jealous of my great joy."

"I fear Hermes no longer strides so frequently about Athens. The hand and
seal are yours,--and still you do not confess?"

"If I must die," Glaucon was terribly pale, but his voice was steady, "it
is not as a perjurer!"

Themistocles turned his back with a groan.

"I can do nothing for you. This is the saddest hour in my life." He was
silent, but Democrates sprang to the athlete's side.

"Have I not prayed each god to spare me this task?" he spoke. "Can I
forget our friendship? Do not brave it to the end. Pity at least your
friends, your wife--"

He threw back his cloak, pointing to a sword.

"_Ai_," cried the accused, shrinking. "What would you have me do?"

"Save the public disgrace, the hooting jury, the hemlock, the corpse flung
into the Barathrum. Strike this into your breast and end the shame."

No further. Glaucon smote him so that he reeled. The athlete's tone was
terrible.

"Villain! You shall not tempt me." Then he turned to the rest, and stood
in his white agony, yet beautiful as ever, holding out his arms.

"O friends, do you all believe the worst? Do you, Themistocles, turn
silently against me?" No answer. "And you, Hermippus?" No answer again.
"And you, Cimon, who praised me as the fairest friend in all the world?"
The son of Miltiades simply tore his hair. Then the athlete turned to
Democrates.

"And you I deemed more than comrade, for we were boys at school together,
were flogged with the same rod, and drank from the same cup, had like
friends, foes, loves, hates; and have lived since as more than
brothers,--do you too turn utterly away?"

"I would it were otherwise," came the sullen answer. Again Democrates
pointed to the sword, but Glaucon stood up proudly.

"No. I am neither traitor, nor perjurer, nor coward. If I must perish, it
shall be as becomes an Alcmaeonid. If you have resolved to undo me, I know
your power over Athenian juries. I must die. But I shall die with
unspotted heart, calling the curse of the innocent upon the god or man who
plotted to destroy me."

"We have enough of this direful comedy," declared Democrates, pale
himself. "Only one thing is left. Call in the Scythians w