oil were passed among the men at the oars. They ate without leaving the
benches. And still the sea spread out glassy, motionless, and the pennon
hung limp on the mainmast. The _keleustes_ slowed his beatings, but the
men did not obey him. No whipped cattle were they, such as rowed the
triremes of Phoenicia, but freemen born, sons of Athens, who called it joy
to die for her in time of need. Therefore despite the _keleustes's_ beats,
despite Themistocles's command, the rowing might not slacken. And the
black wave around the _Nausicaae's_ bow sang its monotonous music.

But Themistocles ever turned his face eastward, until men thought he was
awaiting some foe in chase, and presently--just as a rower among the
zygites fell back with the blood gushing from mouth and nostrils--the
admiral pointed his finger toward the sky-line of the morning.

"Look! Athena is with us!"

And for the first time in hours those panting, straining men let the hot
oar butts slip from their hands, even trail in the darkling water, whilst
they rose, looked, and blessed their gods.

It was coming, the strong kind Eurus out of the south and east. They could
see the black ripple springing over the glassy sea; they could hear the
singing of the cordage; they could catch the sweet sniff of the brine.
Admiral and rower lifted their hands together at this manifest favour of
heaven.

"Poseidon is with us! Athena is with us! AEolus is with us! We can save
Hellas!"

Soon the sun burst forth above the mist. All the wide ocean floor was
adance with sparkling wavelets. No need of Ameinias's lusty call to bend
again the sails. The smaller canvas on the foremast and great spread on
the mainmast were bellying to the piping gale. A fair wind, but no storm.
The oars were but helpers now,--men laughed, hugged one another as boys,
wept as girls, and let the benignant wind gods labour for them. Delos the
Holy they passed, and Tenos, and soon the heights of Andros lifted, as the
ship with its lading of fate flew over the island-strewn sea. At last,
just as the day was leaving them, they saw Helios going down into the
fire-tinged waves in a parting burst of glory. Darkness next, but the
kindly wind failed not. Through the night no man on that trireme
slumbered. Breeze or calm, he who had an obol's weight of power spent it
at the oars.

Long after midnight Themistocles and Glaucon clambered the giddy cordage
to the ship's top above the swelling mainsail. On the na