ome pretext could accompany. None in sight. Lycon kept
fast hold of his cloak. For practical purposes Democrates was prisoner.

"Why in Corinth?" he threw out sullenly.

"For three reasons, _philotate_," Lycon grinned over his shoulder, "first,
the women at the Grove of Aphrodite here are handsome; second, I am weary
of Sparta and its black broth and iron money; third, and here is the rose
for my garland, I had need to confer with your noble self."

"Would not Hiram be your dutiful messenger again?" queried the other,
vainly watching for escape.

"Hiram is worth twenty talents as a helper;"--Lycon gave a hound-like
chuckle,--"still he is not Apollo, and there are too many strings on this
lyre for him to play them all. Besides, he failed at Salamis."

"He did! Zeus blast his importunity and yours likewise. Where are you
taking me? I warn you in advance, you are 'shearing an ass,'--attempting
the impossible,--if you deceive yourself as to my power. I can do nothing
more to prevent the war from being pressed against Mardonius. It is only
your Laconian ephors that are hindering."

"We shall see, _philotate_, we shall see," grunted the Spartan,
exasperatingly cool. "Here is Poseidon's Temple. Let us sit in the shaded
portico."

Democrates resigned himself to be led to a stone seat against the wall.
The gray old "dog-watcher" by the gate glanced up to see that no dogs were
straying into the holy house, noted only two gentlemen come for a chat,
and resumed his siesta. Lycon took a long time in opening his business.

"The world has used you well of late, dear fellow."

"Passing well, by Athena's favour."

"You should say by Hermes's favour, but I would trust you Athenians to
grow fat on successful villany and then bless the righteous gods."

"I hope you haven't left Sparta just to revile me!" cried Democrates,
leaping up, to be thrust back by Lycon's giant paw.

"_Ai!_ mix a little honey with your speech, it costs nothing. Well, the
length and breadth of my errand is this, Mardonius must fight soon, and
must be victorious."

"That is for your brave ephors to say," darted Democrates. "According to
their valiant proposals they desire this war to imitate that with Troy,--to
last ten years."

"Indeed--but I always held my people surpassed in procrastination, as yours
in deceiving. However, their minds will change."

"Aristeides and Themistocles will bless you for that."

Lycon shrugged his great shoulders.

"The