s. If
you profess to love me, you will not forget that."

But Democrates was passing almost beyond the limits of coherent speech.

"Oh, when you come to me, you will not know what a price I have paid for
you. In Homer's day men wooed their wives with costly gifts, but I--have I
not paid for you with my soul? My soul, I say--honour, friendship, country,
what has weighed against Himeros, 'Master Desire,'--the desire ever for
you!"

She hardly understood him, his speech flowed so thick. She knew he was on
the edge of reason, and feared to answer lest she drive beyond it.

"Do you hear the price I have paid? Do you still look on in cold hate,
lady? Ah, by Zeus, even in your coldest, most forbidding mood you are fair
as the Paphian when she sprang above the sea! And I will win you, lady, I
will win your heart, for they shall do you homage, even all Athens, and I
will make you a queen. Yes! the house of Athena on the Acropolis shall be
your palace if you will, and they will cry in the Agora, 'Way, way for
Hermione, glorious consort of Democrates our king!' "

"Sir," spoke Hermione, while her hands grew chill, for now she was sure he
raved, "I have not the joy to comprehend. There is no king in Athens,
please Athena, there never will be. Treason and blasphemy you speak all in
one." She sought vainly with her eyes for refuge. None in sight. The hill
slope seemed empty save for the scattered brown boulders. Far away a goat
was wandering. She motioned to Cleopis. The old woman was staring now, and
doubtless thought Democrates was carrying his familiarities too far, but
she was a weak creature, and at best could only scream.

"Treason and blasphemy," cried Democrates, dropping on his knees, his
frame shaking with dishonest passion, "yes! call them so now. They will be
blessed truth for me in a month, for me, for you. Hermes the Trickster is
a mighty god. He has befriended Eros. I shall possess Athens and possess
you. I shall be the most fortunate mortal upon earth as now I am most
miserable. Ah! but I have waited so long." He sprang to his feet. "Tarry,
_makaira_, tarry! A kiss!"

Hermione screamed at last shrilly and turned to fly. Instantly Democrates
was upon her. In that fluttering white dress escape was hopeless.

"Apollo pursuing Daphne!"--his crazed shout as his arms closed around
her,--"but Daphne becomes no laurel this time. Her race is lost. She shall
pay the forfeit."

She felt him seize her girdle. He swung he