ar of the
avenger of blood. This was a second-sighted man, called Theoclymenus,
and he implored Telemachus to take him to Ithaca, for he had slain a man
in his own country, who had killed one of his brothers, and now the
brothers and cousins of that man were pursuing him to take his life.
Telemachus made him welcome, and so sailed north to Ithaca, wondering
whether he should be able to slip past the wooers, who were lying in
wait to kill him. Happily the ship of Telemachus passed them unseen in
the night, and arrived at Ithaca. He sent his crew to the town, and was
just starting to walk across the island to the swineherd's house, when
the second-sighted man asked what _he_ should do. Telemachus told
Piraeus, one of his friends, to take the man home and be kind to him,
which he gladly promised to do, and then he set off to seek the
swineherd.

The swineherd, with Ulysses, had just lit a fire to cook breakfast, when
they saw the farm dogs frolicking round a young man who was walking
towards the house. The dogs welcomed him, for he was no stranger, but
Telemachus. Up leaped the swineherd in delight, and the bowl in which he
was mixing wine and water fell from his hands. He had been unhappy for
fear the wooers who lay in wait for Telemachus should kill him, and he
ran and embraced the young man as gladly as a father welcomes a son who
has long been in a far country. Telemachus, too, was anxious to hear
whether his mother had married one of the wooers, and glad to know that
she still bore her troubles patiently.

When Telemachus stepped into the swineherd's house Ulysses arose from
his seat, but Telemachus bade the old beggar man sit down again, and a
pile of brushwood with a fleece thrown over it was brought for himself.
They breakfasted on what was ready, cold pork, wheaten bread, and wine
in cups of ivy wood, and Eumaeus told Telemachus that the old beggar
gave himself out as a wanderer from Crete. Telemachus answered that he
could not take strangers into his mother's house, for he was unable to
protect them against the violence of the wooers, but he would give the
wanderer clothes and shoes and a sword, and he might stay at the farm.
He sent the swineherd to tell his mother, Penelope, that he had returned
in safety, and Eumaeus started on his journey to the town.

At this moment the farm dogs, which had been taking their share of the
breakfast, began to whine, and bristle up, and slunk with their tails
between their l