night.
When his barge came alongside, his boat crew knew that his eyes were
dancing, that his whole mien was of a man in love with his fortune. Many
times, as Glaucon sat beside him, he heard the son of Neocles repeating as
in ecstasy:--

"They must fight. They must fight."

* * * * * * *

Glaucon sat mutely in the pinnace which had headed not for the _Nausicaae_,
but toward the shore, where a few faint beacons were burning.

"I must confer with the strategi as to the morning," Themistocles declared
after a long interval, at which Sicinnus broke in anxiously:--

"You will not sleep, _kyrie_?"

"Sleep?" laughed the admiral, as at an excellent jest, "I have forgotten
there was such a god as Hypnos." Then, ignoring Sicinnus, he addressed the
outlaw.

"I am grateful to you, my friend," he did not call Glaucon by name before
the others, "you have saved me, and I have saved Hellas. You brought me a
new plan when I seemed at the last resource. How can the son of Neocles
reward you?"

"Give me a part to play to-morrow."

"Thermopylae was not brisk enough fighting, ha? Can you still fling a
javelin?"

"I can try."

"_Euge!_ Try you shall." He let his voice drop. "Do not forget your name
henceforth is Critias. The _Nausicaae's_ crew are mostly from Sunium and
the Mesogia. They'd hardly recognize you under that beard; still Sicinnus
must alter you."

"Command me, _kyrie_," said the Asiatic.

"A strange time and place, but you must do it. Find some dark dye for this
man's hair to-night, and at dawn have him aboard the flag-ship."

"The thing can be done, _kyrie_."

"After that, lie down and sleep. Because Themistocles is awake, is no
cause for others' star-gazing. Sleep sound. Pray Apollo and Hephaestus to
make your eye sure, your hand strong. Then awake to see the glory of
Hellas."

Confidence, yes, power came through the tones of the admiral's voice.
Themistocles went away to the belated council. Sicinnus led his charge
through the crooked streets of the town of Salamis. Sailors were sleeping
in the open night, and they stumbled over them. At last they found a small
tavern where a dozen shipmen sprawled on the earthen floor, and a gaping
host was just quenching his last lamp. Sicinnus, however, seemed to know
him. There was much protesting and headshaking, at last ended by the glint
of a daric. The man grumbled, departed, returned after a tedious interval
with a pot of ointment