Part 30 (1/2)
The day after Phnix was born old Conon, Glaucon's father, died. The old man had never recovered from the blow given by the dishonourable death of the son with whom he had so lately quarrelled. He left a great landed estate at Marathon to his new-born grandson. The exact value thereof Democrates inquired into sharply, and when a distant cousin talked of contesting the will, the orator announced he would defend the infant's rights. The would-be plaintiff withdrew at once, not anxious to cross swords with this favourite of the juries, and everybody said that Democrates was showing a most scrupulous regard for his unfortunate friend's memory.
Indeed, seemingly, Democrates ought to have been the happiest man in Athens. He had been elected ”strategus,” to serve on the board of generals along with Themistocles. He had plenty of money, and gave great banquets to this or that group of prominent citizens. During the winter he had asked Hermippus for his daughter in marriage. The Eumolpid told him that since Glaucon's fearful end, he was welcome as a son-in-law. Still he could not conceal that Hermione never spoke of him save in hate, and in view of her then delicate condition it was well not to press the matter.
The orator had seemed well content. ”Woman's fantasies would wear away in time.” But the rumour of this negotiation, outrunning truth, grew into the lying report of an absolute betrothal,-the report which was to drift to Asia and turn Glaucon's heart to stone, gossip having always wrought more harm than malignant lying.
Yet flies were in Democrates's sweet ointment. He knew Themistocles hardly trusted him as frankly as of yore. Little Simonides, a man of wide influence and keen insight, treated him very coldly. Cimon had cooled also. But worse than all was a haunting dread. Democrates knew, if hardly another in h.e.l.las, that the Cyprian-in other words Mardonius-was safe in Asia, and likewise that he had fled on the _Solon_. Mardonius, then, had escaped the storm. What if the same miracle had saved the outlaw? What if the dead should awake? The chimera haunted Democrates night and day.
Still he was beginning to shake off his terrors. He believed he had washed his hands fairly clean of his treason, even if the water had cost his soul. He joined with all his energies in seconding Themistocles. His voice was loudest at the Pnyx, counselling resistance. He went on successful emba.s.sies to Sicyon and aegina to get pledges of alliance. In the summer he did his uttermost to prepare the army which Themistocles and Evaenetus the Spartan led to defend the pa.s.s of Tempe. The expedition sailed amid high hopes for a n.o.ble defence of h.e.l.las. Democrates was proud and sanguine.
Then, like a thunderbolt, there came one night a knock at his door. Bias led to his master no less a visitor than the sleek and smiling Phnician-Hiram.
The orator tried to cover his terrors by windy bl.u.s.ter. He broke in before the Oriental could finish his elaborate salaam.
”Of all the harpies and gorgons you are the least welcome. Were you not warned when you fled Athens for Argos never to show your face in Attica again?”
”Your Excellency said so,” was the bland reply.
”Admirably you obey it. It remains for me to reward the obedience. Bias, go to the street; summon two Scythian watchmen.”
The Thracian darted out. Hiram simply stood with hands folded.
”It is well, Excellency, the lad is gone. I have many things to say in confidence to your n.o.bility. At Lacedaemon my Lord Lycon was gracious enough to give certain commands for me to transmit to you.”
”Commands? To me? Earth and G.o.ds! am I to be commanded by an adder like you? You shall pay for this on the rack.”
”Your slave thinks otherwise,” observed Hiram, humbly. ”If your Lords.h.i.+p will deign to read this letter, it will save your slave many words and your Lords.h.i.+p many cursings.”
He knelt again before he offered a papyrus. Democrates would rather have taken fire, but he could not refuse. And thus he read:-
”Lycon of Lacedaemon to Democrates of Athens, greeting:-Can he who Medizes in the summer h.e.l.lenize in the spring? I know your zeal for Themistocles.
Was it for this we plucked you back from exposure and ruin? Do then as Hiram bids you, or repay the money you clutched so eagerly. Fail not, or rest confident all the doc.u.ments you betrayed shall go to Hypsichides the First Archon, your enemy. Use then your eloquence on Attic juries! But you will grow wise; what need of me to threaten? You will hearken to Hiram.
”From Sparta, on the festival of Bellerophon, in the ephors.h.i.+p of Theudas.-_Chaire!_”
Democrates folded the papyrus and stood long, biting his whitened lips in silence. Perhaps he had surmised the intent of the letter the instant Hiram extended it.
”What do you desire?” he said thickly, at last.
”Let my Lord then hearken-” began the Phnician, to be interrupted by the sudden advent of Bias.
”The Scythians are at the door, _kyrie_,” he was shouting; ”shall I order them in and drag this lizard out by the tail?”
”No, in Zeus's name, no! Bid them keep without. And do you go also. This honest fellow is on private business which only I must hear.”
Bias slammed the door. Perhaps he stood listening. Hiram, at least, glided nearer to his victim and spoke in a smooth whisper, taking no chances of an eavesdropper.
”Excellency, the desire of Lycon is this. The army has been sent to Tempe.
At Lacedaemon Lycon used all his power to prevent its despatch, but Leonidas is omnipotent to-day in Sparta, and besides, since Lycon's calamity at the Isthmia, his prestige, and therefore his influence, is not a little abated. Nevertheless, the army must be recalled from Tempe.”
”And the means?”
”Yourself, Excellency. It is within your power to find a thousand good reasons why Themistocles and Evaenetus should retreat. And you will do so at once, Excellency.”