er. Voices came, upraised in
jarring debate. The marine guard saluted with his spear as Themistocles
went up the ladder. Leaving his companions on deck, the admiral hastened
below. An instant later he was back and beckoned the Asiatic and the
outlaw to the ship's rail.

"Take Sicinnus to the Persian high admiral," was his ominous whisper, "and
fail not,--fail not, for I say to you except the god prosper you now, not
all Olympus can save our Hellas to-morrow."

Not another word as he turned again to the cabin. The pinnace crew had
brought the skiff alongside, Sicinnus entered it, Glaucon took the oars,
pulled out a little, as if back to the _Nausicaae_, then sent the head of
the skiff around, pointing across the strait, toward the havens of Athens.
Sicinnus sat in silence, but Glaucon guessed the errand. The wind was
rising and bringing clouds. This would hide the moon and lessen the
danger. But above all things speed was needful. The athlete put his
strength upon the oars till the heavy skiff shot across the black void of
the water.

* * * * * * *

It was little short of midnight when Glaucon swung the skiff away from the
tall trireme of Ariabignes, the Barbarian's admiral. The deed was done. He
had sat in the bobbing boat while Sicinnus had been above with the Persian
chiefs. Officers who had exchanged the wine-cup with Glaucon in the days
when he stood at Xerxes's side passed through the glare of the battle
lanterns swaying above the rail. The Athenian had gripped at the dagger in
his belt as he watched them. Better in the instant of discovery to slay
one's self than die a few hours afterward by slow tortures! But discovery
had not come. Sicinnus had come down the ladder, smiling, jesting, a dozen
subalterns salaaming as he went, and offering all manner of service, for
had he not been a bearer of great good tidings to the king?

"Till to-morrow," an olive-skinned Cilician navarch had spoken.

"Till to-morrow," waved the messenger, lightly. He did all things coolly,
as if he had been bearing an invitation to a feast, took his post in the
stern of the skiff deliberately, then turned to the silent man with him.

"Pull."

"Whither?" Glaucon was already tugging the oars.

"To Eurybiades's ship. Themistocles is waiting. And again all speed."

The line of twinkling water betwixt the skiff and the Persian widened. For
a few moments Glaucon bent himself silently to his task, then for the