en for Thebes." That night and the following day the
devoted seven lay concealed. Evening came on. The hour when they were to
play their parts had nearly arrived. They were in that state of strained
expectation that brings the nerves to the surface, and started in sudden
dread when a loud knock came upon the door. They were still more
startled on hearing its purpose. A messenger had come to bid Charon
instantly to come to the presence of the two feasting polemarchs.

What did it mean? Had the plot been divulged? Had the timid
Hipposthenidas betrayed them? At any rate, there was but one thing to
do; Charon must go at once. But he, faithful soul, was most in dread
that his friends should suspect him of treachery. He therefore brought
his son, a highly promising youth of fifteen, and put him in the hands
of Pelopidas as a hostage for his fidelity.

"This is folly!" cried they all. "No one doubts you. Take the boy away.
It is enough for us to face the danger; do not seek to bring the boy
into the same peril."

Charon would not listen to their remonstrances, but insisted on leaving
the youth in their hands, and hastened away to the house of the
polemarchs. He found them at the feast, already half intoxicated. Word
had been sent them from Athens that some plot, they knew not what, was
afloat. He was known to be a friend of the exiles. He must tell them
what he knew about it.

Fortunately, the pair were too nearly drunk to be acute. Their
suspicions were very vague. Charon, aided by Phyllidas, had little
trouble in satisfying them that the report was false. Eager to get back
to their wine they dismissed him, very glad indeed to get away. Hardly
had he gone before a fresh message, and a far more dangerous one, was
brought to Archias, sent by a namesake of his at Athens. This gave a
full account of the scheme and the names of those who were to carry it
out. "It relates to a very serious matter," said the messenger who bore
it.

"Serious matters for to-morrow," cried Archias, with a drunken laugh, as
he put the unopened despatch under the pillow of his couch and took up
the wine-cup again.

"Those whom the gods mean to destroy they first make mad," says an
apposite Grecian proverb. These men were foredoomed.

"A truce to all this disturbance," cried the two polemarchs to
Phyllidas. "Where are the women whom you promised us? Let us see these
famous high-born beauties."

Phyllidas at once retired, and quickly returned wit