w lost
in amazement as he stared at the long colonnades of the Temple of
Melmoth and the high front of the Shrine of Ashtaroth behind it. Even
as he gazed some of his ship-mates passed their hands through his arms
and led him along the quay to a wine-shop, as being a building much more
within his comprehension. The Greek, still smiling, was turning on his
heels to return to the Temple, when one of the clean-shaven priests of
Baal came towards him.

"It is rumoured, sire," said he, "that you are on a very distant and
dangerous venture. Indeed, it is well known from the talk of your
soldiers what it is that you have on hand."

"It is true," said the Greek, "that we have a hard task before us. But
it would have been harder to bide at home and to feel that the honour of
a leader of the Argives had been soiled by this dog from Asia."

"I hear that all Greece has taken up the quarrel."

"Yes, there is not a chief from Thessaly to the Malea who has not called
out his men, and there were twelve hundred galleys in the harbour of
Aulis."

"It is a great host," said the priest. "But have ye any seers or
prophets among ye who can tell what will come to pass?"

"Yes, we had one such, Calchas his name. He has said that for nine years
we shall strive, and only on the tenth will the victory come."

"That is but cold comfort," said the priest. "It is, indeed, a great
prize which can be worth ten years of a man's life."

"I would give," the Greek answered, "not ten years but all my life if I
could but lay proud Ilium in ashes and carry back Helen to her palace on
the hill of Argos."

"I pray Baal, whose priest I am, that you may have good fortune," said
the Ph[oe]nician. "I have heard that these Trojans are stout soldiers,
and that Hector, the son of Priam, is a mighty leader."

The Greek smiled proudly.

"They must be stout and well-fed also," said he, "if they can stand the
brunt against the long-haired Argives with such captains as Agamemnon,
the son of Atreus from golden Mycenae, or Achilles, son of Peleus, with
his myrmidons. But these things are on the knees of the Fates. In the
meantime, my friend, I would fain know who these strange people are who
come down the street, for their chieftain has the air of one who is made
for great deeds."

A tall man clad in a long white robe, with a golden fillet running
through his flowing auburn hair, was striding down the street with the
free elastic gait of one who has lived an