ad come down to his city house from Eleusis, and with him his
wife and daughter. The Eleusinian was very busy. He was a member of the
Areopagus, the old council of ex-archons, an experienced body that found
much to do. Hermippus had strained his own resources to provide shields
for the hoplites. He was constantly with Themistocles, which implied being
much with Democrates. The more he saw of the young orator, the better the
Eleusinian liked him. True, not every story ran to Democrates's credit,
but Hermippus knew the world, and could forgive a young man if he had
occasionally spent a jolly night. Democrates seemed to have forsworn
Ionian harp-girls now. His patriotism was self-evident. The Eleusinian saw
in him a most desirable protector in the perils of war for Hermione and
her child. Hermione's dislike for her husband's destroyer was
natural,--nay, in bounds, laudable,--but one must not give way too much to
women's phantasies. The lady was making a Cyclops of Democrates by sheer
imagination; an interview would dispel her prejudices. Therefore Hermippus
planned, and his plan was not hard to execute.

On the day the fleet sailed to Artemisium, Hermione went with her mother
to the havens, as all the city went, to wish godspeed to the "wooden wall"
of Hellas.

One hundred and twenty-seven triremes were to go forth, and three and
fifty to follow, bearing the best and bravest of Athens with them.
Themistocles was in absolute command, and perhaps in his heart of hearts
Democrates was not mournful if it lay out of his power to do a second
ill-turn to his country.

It was again summer, and again such a day as when Glaucon with glad
friends had rowed toward Salamis. The Saronian bay flashed fairest azure.
The scattered isles and the headlands of Argolis rose in clear beauty. The
city had emptied itself. Mothers hung on the necks of sons as the latter
strode toward Peiraeus; friends clasped hands for the last time as he who
remained promised him who went that the wife and little ones should never
be forgotten. Only Hermione, as she stood on the hill of Munychia above
the triple havens, shed no tear. The ship bearing her all was gone long
since. Themistocles would never lead it back. Hermippus was at the quay in
Peiraeus, taking leave of the admiral. Old Cleopis held the babe as
Hermione stood by her mother. The younger woman had suffered her gaze to
wander to far AEgina, where a featherlike cloud hung above the topmost
summit