answered their "farewell." The
house door closed behind him, and Hermione and Lysistra ran into one
another's arms. They had given to Hellas their best, and now must look to
Athena.

Hermippus and Aristeides were gone, Democrates remained in Troezene. His
business, he said, was more diplomatic than military, and he was expecting
advices from the islands which he must take to Pausanias in person. He had
a number of interviews with Themistocles, when it was observed that every
time he came away with clouded brow and gruff answers to all who accosted.
It began to be hinted that all was not as well as formerly between the
admiral and the orator, that Democrates had chosen to tie too closely to
Aristeides for the son of Neocles's liking, and that as soon as the
campaign was decided, a bitter feud would break out betwixt them. But this
was merest gossip. Outwardly Democrates and Themistocles continued
friends, dined together, exchanged civilities. On the day when
Themistocles was to sail for Delos he walked arm in arm with Democrates to
the quay. The hundreds of onlookers saw him embrace the young strategus in
a manner belying any rumour of estrangement, whilst Democrates stood on
the sand waving his good wishes until the admiral climbed the ladder of
the _Nausicaae_.

It was another day and landscape which the stranger in Hellas would have
remembered long. The haven of Troezene, noblest in Peloponnesus, girt by
its two mountain promontories, Methana and the holy hill Calauria, opened
its bright blue into the deeper blue of the Saronic bay. Under the eye of
the beholder AEgina and the coasts of Attica stood forth, a fit frame to
the far horizon. Sun, sea, hills, and shore wrought together to make one
glorious harmony, endless variety, yet ordered and fashioned into a divine
whole. "Euopis," "The Fair-Faced," the beauty-loving dwellers of the
country called it, and they named aright.

Something of the beauty touched even Hermione as she stood on the hill
slope, gazing across the sea. Only Cleopis was with her. The young widow
had less trembling when she looked on the _Nausicaae_ than when one year
before the stately trireme had sailed for Artemisium. If ill news must
come, it would be from the plains of Boeotia. Most of Themistocles's fleet
was already at Delos. He led only a dozen sail. When his squadron glided
on into the blue deep, the haven seemed deserted save for the Carthaginian
trader that swung at her cables close