Then the chief turned back to the
deserter.

"Why here?"

Glaucon had never prayed for the gifts of Peitho, "Our Lady Persuasion,"
more than at that crucial moment. Arguments, supplications, protestations
of innocence, curses upon his unknown enemies, rushed to his lips
together. He hardly realized what he himself said. Only he knew that at
the end the soldiers did not tug at their hilts as before and scowl so
threateningly, and Leonidas at last lifted his hand as if to bid him
cease.

"_Euge!_" grunted the chief. "So you wish me to believe you a victim of
fate, and trust your story? The pass is turned, you say? Masistes the seer
said the libation sputtered on the flame with ill-omen when he sacrificed
this morning. Then you come. The thing shall be looked into. Call the
captains."

* * * * * * *

The locharchs and taxiarchs of the Greeks assembled. It was a brief and
gloomy council of war. While Euboulus, commanding the Corinthian
contingent, was still questioning whether the deserter was worthy of
credence, a scout came running down Mt. OEta confirming the worst. The
cowardly Phocians watching the mountain trail had fled at the first arrows
of Hydarnes. It was merely a question of time before the Immortals would
be at Alpeni, the village in Leonidas's rear. There was only one thing to
say, and the Spartan chief said it.

"You must retreat."

The taxiarchs of the allied Hellenes under him were already rushing forth
to their men to bid them fly for dear life. Only one or two stayed by the
tent, marvelling much to observe that Leonidas gave no orders to his
Lacedaemonians to join in the flight. On the contrary, Glaucon, as he stood
near, saw the general lift the discarded pot of broth and explore it again
with the iron spoon.

"O Father Zeus," cried the incredulous Corinthian leader. "Are you turned
mad, Leonidas?"

"Time enough for all things," returned the unmoved Spartan, continuing his
breakfast.

"Time!" shouted Euboulus. "Have we not to flee on wings, or be cut off?"

"Fly, then."

"But you and your Spartans?"

"We will stay."

"Stay? A handful against a million? Do I hear aright? What can you do?"

"Die."

"The gods forbid! Suicide is a fearful end. No man should rush on
destruction. What requires you to perish?"

"Honour."

"Honour! Have you not won glory enough by holding Xerxes's whole power at
bay two days? Is not your life precious to Hellas? What is th