ho sat on benches along the side. The prow, which was
carved to represent the maiden Nausicaa, stood well out of the water, and
the bulwarks descended in a graceful curve to rise again at the stern,
where the captain stood and shaped his course by means of a broad paddle,
which was hung over the side.

The voyage began happily enough, the wind being favorable, and the captain
and crew all deference and politeness. But when they were well out to sea,
the behavior of the crew changed; they answered Arion's questions with
scant politeness, and held many whispered consultations, which, from the
black glances cast at him, made him uneasy as to his safety. On the second
evening, waking out of a light sleep, he heard them conspiring to throw
him overboard and divide his wealth among them. Arion started up and
implored them not to carry out their evil purpose, offering to hand over
all his wealth, if they would spare his life. His entreaties and promises
were all in vain.

"We give you a fair choice," said the captain brutally. "Either leap into
the sea at once, or kill yourself in some other way, and we will bury you
decently on shore."

Abandoning his vain appeals for mercy, Arion begged them, as a last favor,
to let him sing once more before he died.

"That we will not refuse," the captain answered; "though, if you think to
move us by your wailing, let me tell you that you waste your breath!" In
reality, he was not displeased to have an opportunity of hearing the most
famous singer in the world.

Arion put on his sacred robes, in which he used to sing in the temple of
Apollo, and taking his lute he stepped firmly to the prow of the vessel.
There he stood, pale and calm, in the silvery light of the moon, his fair
hair playing with the wind, while the little waves lifted themselves to
look at him, and then ran playfully into the shadow of the boat, to dash
their heads against the beams and be broken into spray. The sailors were
awed in spite of themselves, as that beautiful voice rose on the breeze.
He sang the old song which he had sung in the Lesbian vineyards when
Periander saw him first. And when he came to the last lines,--

"Life is but a drop in the deep,
Soon we wake from the last, lone sleep,
And meet again,"

Arion leapt over the side of the vessel, just as he was.

The captain, fearing that some of the crew might be moved to lend him
assistance, gave the order to make all speed ahead. Had he waited