n I'll surpass the gods, who can seldom please all men. Still it is
quite true."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Dear Democrates, you know what's befallen in Sparta. Since Leonidas died,
his rivals from my own side of the royal house have gathered a great deal
more of power. My uncle Nicander is at present head of the board of
ephors, and gladly takes my advice."

"Ha!" Democrates began to divine the drift.

"It seemed best to me after the affair at Salamis to give the lie to my
calumniators, who hinted that I desired to 'Medize,' and that it was by my
intriguing that the late king took so small a force to Thermopylae."

"All Hellas knows _your_ patriotism!" cried Democrates, satirically.

"Even so. I have silenced my fiercest abusers. If I have not yet urged in
our assembly that we should fight Mardonius, it is merely because--it is
not yet prudent."

"Excellent scoundrel," declared the other, writhing on his seat, "you are
no Spartan, but long-winded as a Sicilian."

"Patience, _philotate_, a Spartan must either speak in apothegms or take
all day. I have not advised a battle yet because I was not certain of your
aid."

"Ay, by Zeus," broke out Democrates, "that ointment I sniffed a long way
off. I can give you quick answer. Fly back to Sparta, swift as Boreas;
plot, conspire, earn Tartarus, to your heart's content--you'll get no more
help from me."

"I expected that speech." Lycon's coolness drove his victim almost
frantic.

"In the affair of Tempe I bent to you for the last time," Democrates
charged desperately. "I have counted the cost. Perhaps you can use against
me certain documents, but I am on a surer footing than once. In the last
year I have done such service to Hellas I can even hope to be forgiven,
should these old mistakes be proved. And if you drive me to bay, be sure
of this, I will see to it that all the dealings betwixt the Barbarian and
your noble self are expounded to your admiring countrymen."

"You show truly excellent courage, dear Democrates," cried Lycon, in
pseudo-admiration. "That speech was quite worthy of a tragic actor."

"If we're in the theatre, let the chorus sing its last strophe and have
done. You disgust me."

"Peace, peace," ordered Lycon, his hand still on the Athenian's shoulder,
"I will make all the haste I can, but obstinacy is disagreeable. I repeat,
you are needed, sorely needed, by Mardonius to enable him to complete the
conquest of Hellas. You shall not call the Per