ed, and found that his mother walked in fear
of Polydectes the king. She told her son--a strong man now, though
young in years--the story of his cruel persecution. Perseus saw red
blood, and gladly would he have driven his keen blade far home in the
heart of Polydectes. But his vengeance was to be a great vengeance,
and the vengeance was delayed.

The king gave a feast, and on that day every one in the land brought
offerings of their best and most costly to do him honour. Perseus
alone came empty-handed, and as he stood in the king's court as though
he were a beggar, the other youths mocked at him of whom they had ever
been jealous.

"Thou sayest that thy father is one of the gods!" they said. "Where is
thy godlike gift, O Perseus!"

And Polydectes, glad to humble the lad who was keeper of his mother's
honour, echoed their foolish taunt.

"Where is the gift of the gods that the noble son of the gods has
brought me?" he asked, and his fat cheeks and loose mouth quivered
with ugly merriment.

Then Perseus, his head thrown back, gazed in the bold eyes of
Polydectes.

Son of Zeus he was indeed, as he looked with royal scorn at those whom
he despised.

"A godlike gift thou shalt have, in truth, O king," he said, and his
voice rang out as a trumpet-call before the battle. "The gift of the
gods shall be thine. The gods helping me, thou shalt have the head of
Medusa."

A laugh, half-born, died in the throats of Polydectes and of those who
listened, and Perseus strode out of the palace, a glow in his heart,
for he knew that Pallas Athene had lit the fire that burned in him
now, and that though he should shed the last drop of his life's blood
to win what he sought, right would triumph, and wrong must be worsted.

Still quivering with anger, Perseus went down to the blue sea that
gently whispered its secrets to the shore on which he stood.

"If Pallas Athene would but come," he thought--"if only my dreams
might come true."

For, like many a boy before and since, Perseus had dreamed of gallant,
fearless deeds. Like many a boy before and since, he had been the hero
of a great adventure.

So he prayed, "Come to me! I pray you, Pallas Athene, come! and let me
dream true."

His prayer was answered.

Into the sky there came a little silver cloud that grew and grew, and
ever it grew nearer, and then, as in his dream, Pallas Athene came to
him and smiled on him as the sun smiles on the water in spring. Nor
was she alo