open your heart to suffer them."

The voice both thrilled and trembled now, then suddenly ceased. The colour
sprang into Roxana's forehead. Glaucon bowed and kissed her hand. It
seemed to rise to his lips very willingly.

"I thank you for your fair hopes. Farewell." That was all he said, but as
he went forth from Roxana's presence, the pang of the tidings brought by
the Carian seemed less keen.

* * * * * * *

The hosts gathered daily. Xerxes spent his time in dicing, hunting,
drinking, or amusing himself with his favourite by-play, wood-carving. He
held a few solemn state councils, at which he appeared to determine all
things and was actually guided by Artabanus and Mardonius. Now, at last,
all the colossal machinery which was to crush down Hellas was being set in
motion. Glaucon learned how futile was Themistocles's hope of succour to
Athens from the Sicilian Greeks, for,--thanks to Mardonius's indefatigable
diplomacy,--it was arranged that the Phoenicians of Carthage should launch a
powerful armament against the Sicilians, the same moment Xerxes descended
on Sparta and Athens. With calm satisfaction Mardonius watched the
completion of his efforts. All was ready,--the army of hundreds of
thousands, the twelve hundred war-ships, the bridges across the
Hellespont, the canal at Mt. Athos. Glaucon's admiration for the son of
Gobryas grew apace. Xerxes was the outward head of the attack on Hellas.
Mardonius was the soul. He was the idol of the army--its best archer and
rider. Unlike his peers, he maintained no huge harem of jealous concubines
and conspiring eunuchs. Artazostra he worshipped. Roxana he loved. He had
no time for other women. No servant of Xerxes seemed outwardly more
obedient than he. Night and day he wrought for the glory of Persia.
Therefore, Glaucon looked on him with dread. In him Themistocles and
Leonidas would find a worthy foeman.

Daily Glaucon felt the Persian influence stealing upon him. He grew even
accustomed to think of himself under his new name. Greeks were about him:
Demaratus, the outlawed "half-king" of Sparta, and the sons of Hippias,
late tyrant of Athens. He scorned the company of these renegades. Yet
sometimes he would ask himself wherein was he better than they,--had
Democrates's accusation been true, could he have asked a greater reward
from the Barbarian? And what he would do on the day of battle he did not
dare to ask of his own soul.