t us proceed with my sacred cock and his
divination."

Niobe got her philtre,--though whether it reconquered Procles is not
contained in this history. Likewise, she heeded Dion's injunction. There
was something uncanny about the strange sailor; she hid away the
half-daric, and related nothing of her adventure even to her confidant
Cleopis.

* * * * * * *

Three days later Democrates was not drinking wine at his betrothal feast,
but sending this cipher letter by a swift and trusty "distance-runner" to
Sparta.

"Democrates to Lycon, greeting:--At Corinth I cursed you. Rejoice
therefore; you are my only hope. I am with you whether your path leads to
Olympus or to Hades. Tartarus is opened at my feet. You must save me. My
words are confused, do you think? Then hear this, and ask if I have not
cause for turning mad.

"Yesterday, even as Hermippus hung garlands on his house, and summoned the
guests to witness the betrothal contract, Themistocles returned suddenly
from Euboea. He called Hermippus and myself aside. '_Glaucon lives_,' he
said, 'and with the god's help we'll prove his innocence.' Hermippus at
once broke off the betrothal. No one else knows aught thereof, not even
Hermione. Themistocles refuses all further details. 'Glaucon lives,'--I can
think of nothing else. Where is he? What does he? How soon will the awful
truth go flying through Hellas? I trembled when I heard he was dead. But
name my terrors now I know he is alive! Send Hiram. He, if any snake
living, can find me my enemy before it is too late. And speed the victory
of Mardonius! _Chaire._"

"Glaucon lives." Democrates had only written one least part of his
terrors. Two words--but enough to make the orator the most miserable man in
Hellas, the most supple of Xerxes's hundred million slaves.

CHAPTER XXXIII

WHAT BEFELL ON THE HILLSIDE

Once more the Persians pressed into Attica, once more the Athenians,--or
such few of them as had ventured home in the winter,--fled with their
movables to Salamis or Peloponnesus, and an embassy, headed by Aristeides,
hastened to Sparta to demand for the last time that the tardy ephors make
good their promise in sending forth their infantry to hurl back the
invader. If not, Aristeides spoke plainly, his people must perforce close
alliance with Mardonius.

Almost to the amazement of the Athenian chiefs, so accustomed were t