tly over to the prostrate men.
Hiram spoke rightly that his victim was secure. They had lashed him hand
and foot, using small chains in lieu of cords. A bit of wood had been
thrust into his mouth and tied with twine under the ears. Democrates stood
an instant looking down, then very deliberately knelt beside the prisoner
and moved the candle closer. He could see now the face hidden half by the
tangled black hair and beard and the gag--but who could doubt it?--the deep
blue eye, the chiselled profile, the small, fine lips, yes, and the
godlike form visible in its comeliness despite the bands. He was gazing
upon the man who two years ago had called him "bosom-friend."

The prisoner looked straight upward. The only thing he could move was his
eyes, and these followed Democrates's least motion. The orator pressed the
candle closer yet. He even put out his hand, and touched the face to brush
away the hair. A long look--and he was satisfied. No mistake was possible.
Democrates arose and stood over the prisoner, then spoke aloud.

"Glaucon, I have played at dice with Fortune. I have conquered. I did not
ruin you willingly. There was no other way. A man must first be a friend
to himself, and then friendly to others. I have cast in my lot with the
Persians. It was I who wrote that letter which blasted you at Colonus.
Very soon there will be a great battle fought in Boeotia. Lycon and I will
make it certain that Mardonius conquers. I am to be tyrant of Athens.
Hermione shall be my wife." The workings of the prisoner's face made
Democrates wince; from Glaucon's throat came rattlings, his eyes were
terrible. But the other drove recklessly forward. "As for you, you pass
this night out of my life. How you escaped the sea I know not and care
less. Hasdrubal will take you to Carthage, and sell you into the interior
of Libya. I wish you no misery, only you go where you shall never see
Hellas again. I am merciful. Your life is in my hands. But I restore it. I
am without blood guiltiness. What I have done you would have done, had you
loved as I--had you been under necessity as I. Eros is a great god, but
Anangke, Dame Necessity, is yet mightier. So to-night we part--farewell."

A strong spasm passed through the prisoner's frame. For a moment
Democrates thought the bonds would snap. Too strong. The orator swung on
his heel and returned to the outer room.

"The night wanes, _kyrie_," remarked Hasdrubal; "if these good people are
to be tak