so is Argos. Thessaly is wavering. I can almost name the princes
and great nobles over Hellas who are clutching at Persian money. O Father
Zeus," wound up the Athenian, "if there is not some master-spirit
directing all this villany, there is no wisdom in Themistocles, son of
Neocles."

"But the coming of Mardonius to Greece?" questioned the younger man; "the
peril he runs? the risk of discovery--"

"Is all but nothing, except as he comes to Athens, for Medizers will
shelter him everywhere. Yet there is one spot--blessed be Athena--"
Themistocles's hands went up in easy piety--"where, let him come if come he
dare!" Then with a swift change, as was his wont, the statesman looked
straight on Democrates.

"Hark you, son of Myscelus; those Persian lords are reckless. He may even
test the fates and set foot in Attica. I am cumbered with as many cares as
Zeus, but this commission I give to you. You are my most trusted
lieutenant; I can risk no other. Keep watch, hire spies, scatter
bribe-money. Rest not day nor night to find if Mardonius the Persian
enters Athens. Once in our clutches--and you have done Hellas as fair a
turn as Miltiades at Marathon. You promise it? Give me your hand."

"A great task," spoke Democrates, none too readily.

"And one you are worthy to accomplish. Are we not co-workers for Athens
and for Hellas?"

Themistocles's hawklike eyes were unescapable. The younger Athenian
thought they were reading his soul. He held out his hand....

When Democrates returned to the hall, Cimon had ended his song. The guests
were applauding furiously. Wine was still going round, but Glaucon and
Hermione were not joining. Across the table they were conversing in low
sentences that Democrates could not catch. But he knew well enough the
meaning as each face flashed back the beauty of the other. And his mind
wandered back darkly to the day when Glaucon had come to him, more radiant
than even his wont, and cried, "Give me joy, dear comrade, joy! Hermippus
has promised me the fairest maiden in Athens." Some evil god had made
Democrates blind to all his boon-companion's wooing. How many hopes of the
orator that day had been shattered! Yet he had even professed to rejoice
with the son of Conon.... He sat in sombre silence, until the piping voice
of Simonides awakened him.

"Friend, if you are a fool, you do a wise thing in keeping still; if a
wise man, a very foolish thing."

"Wine, boy," ordered Democrates; "and less w