rians will give you an overwarm welcome,
and you are no Spartan; save yourself!"

Glaucon did not stir.

"Do you not see that it is impossible?" he answered, then strode across to
Leonidas. "I must stay."

"Are you also mad? You are young--" The good-hearted Corinthian strove to
drag him into the retreating mob.

Glaucon sprang away from him and addressed the silent general.

"Shall not Athens remain by Sparta, if Sparta will accept?"

He could see Leonidas's cold eyes gleam out through the slits in his
helmet. The general reached forth his hand.

"Sparta accepts," called he; "they have lied concerning your Medizing! And
you, Euboulus, do not filch from him his glory."

"Zeus pity you!" cried Euboulus, running at last. One of the Spartans
brought to Glaucon the heavy hoplite's armour and the ponderous spear and
shield. He took his place in the line with the others. Leonidas stalked to
the right wing of his scant array, the post of honour and of danger. The
Thespians closed up behind. Shield was set to shield. Helmets were drawn
low. The lance points projected in a bristling hedge in front. All was
ready.

The general made no speech to fire his men. There was no wailing, no
crying to the gods, no curses upon the tardy ephors at Lacedaemon who had
deferred sending their whole strong levy instead of the pitiful three
hundred. Sparta had sent this band to hold the pass. They had gone,
knowing she might require the supreme sacrifice. Leonidas had spoken for
all his men. "Sparta demanded it." What more was to be said?

As for Glaucon he could think of nothing save--in the language of his
people--"this was a beautiful manner and place in which to die." "Count no
man happy until he meets a happy end," so had said Solon, and of all ends
what could be more fortunate than this? Euboulus would tell in Athens, in
all Hellas, how he had remained with Leonidas and maintained Athenian
honour when Corinthian and Tegean turned away. From "Glaucon the Traitor"
he would be raised to "Glaucon the Hero." Hermione, Democrates, and all
others he loved would flush with pride and no more with shame when men
spoke of him. Could a life of a hundred years add to his glory more than
he could win this day?

"Blow!" commanded Leonidas again, and again pealed the trumpet. The line
moved beyond the wall toward Xerxes's camp in the open beside the Asopus.
Why wait for Hydarnes's coming? They would meet the king of the Aryans
face to face and