earful line, "Get from this temple
afar, and brood on the ills that await ye."

In the pause, as Callias's voice fell, the agony of the people became nigh
indescribable. Sturdy veterans who had met the Persian spears at Marathon
blinked fast. Many groaned, some cursed. Here and there a bold spirit
dared to open his heart to doubt, and to mutter, "Persian gold, the
Pythoness was corrupted," but quickly hushed even such whispers as rank
impiety. Then a voice close to the Bema rang out loudly:--

"And is this all the message, Callias?"

"The voice of Glaucon the Fortunate," cried many, finding relief in words.
"He is a friend to the ambassador. There is a further prophecy."

The envoy, who had made his theatrical pause too long, continued:--

"Such, men of Athens, was the answer; and we went forth in dire
tribulation. Then a certain noble Delphian, Timon by name, bade us take
the olive branches and return to the Pythoness, saying, 'O King Apollo,
reverence these boughs of supplication, and deliver a more comfortable
answer concerning our dear country. Else we will not leave thy sanctuary,
but stay here until we die.' Whereat the priestess gave us a second
answer, gloomy and riddling, yet not so evil as the first."

Again Callias recited his lines of doom, "that Athena had vainly prayed to
Zeus in behalf of her city, and that it was fated the foe should overrun
all Attica, yet

" 'Safe shall the wooden wall continue for thee and thy children;
Wait not the tramp of the horse, nor the footmen mightily moving
Over the land, but turn your back to the foe, and retire ye.
Yet a day shall arrive when ye shall meet him in battle.
Oh, holy Salamis, thou shalt destroy the offspring of women
When men scatter the seed, or when they gather the harvest.' "

"And that is all?" demanded fifty voices.

"That is all," and Callias quitted the Bema. Whereupon if agony had held
the Pnyx before, perplexity held it now. "The wooden wall?" "Holy
Salamis?" "A great battle, but who is to conquer?" The feverish anxiety of
the people at length found its vent in a general shout.

"The seers! Call the seers! Explain the oracle!"

The demand had clearly been anticipated by the president of the Council.

"Xenagoras the Cerycid is present. He is the oldest seer. Let us hearken
to his opinion."

The head of the greatest priestly family in Athens arose. He was a
venerable man, wearing his ribbon-decked robes of office. The president