loved and
honored by all the Greeks; and it was to avenge his wrongs that this
mighty array of men and ships had been gathered together.

Odysseus came next, shrewd in counsels, earnest and active. He moved
among the men and ships, inspiring all with zeal and courage.

There, also, was young Achilles, tall and handsome, and swift of foot.
His long hair fell about his shoulders like a shower of gold, and his
gray eyes gleamed like those of the mountain eagle. By the shore lay
his trim ships--fifty in all--with thousands of gallant warriors on
board.

One day it chanced that Agamemnon, while hunting, started a fine stag,
and gave it a long chase among the hills and through the wooded dells,
until it sought safety in a grove sacred to Artemis, the huntress
queen. The proud king knew that this was a holy place, where beasts
and birds might rest secure from harm; yet he cared naught for what
Artemis had ordained, and with his swift arrows he slew the panting
deer.

Then was the huntress queen moved with anger, and she declared that the
ships of the Greeks should not sail from Aulis until the king had
atoned for his crime. A great calm rested upon the sea, and not a
breath of air stirred the sails at the mast-heads of the ships.

Day after day and week after week went by, and not a speck of cloud was
seen in the sky above, and not a ripple on the glassy face of the deep.
All the ships had been put in order, new vessels had been built, the
warriors had burnished their armor and overhauled their arms a thousand
times; and yet no breeze arose to waft them across the sea. And they
began to murmur, and to talk bitterly against Agamemnon and the chiefs.

At last Agamemnon sent for Calchas, the soothsayer, and asked him in
secret how the anger of the huntress queen might be appeased. And the
soothsayer with tears and lamentations answered that in no wise could
it be done save by the sacrifice to Artemis of the king's daughter,
Iphigenia.

Then the king cried aloud in his grief, and declared that though Troy
might stand forever, he would not do that thing; and he bade a herald
go through the camp, and among the ships by the shore, and bid every
man depart as he chose to his own country. But before the herald had
gone from his tent, behold, his brother, Menelaus, stood before him
with downcast eyes and saddest of hearts.

"After ten years of labor and hope," said he to Agamemnon, "wouldst
thou give up this enterprise,