Part 44 (1/2)

Themistocles touched a bronze gong; a marine adjutant entered.

”My pinnace,” ordered the admiral. As the man went out, Themistocles took a long himation from the locker and wrapped it around the newcomer.

”Since even Simonides and I did not recognize you in your long beard, I doubt if you are in danger of detection to-night. But remember your name is Critias. You can dye your hair if you come safe back from this adventure. Have you eaten?”

”Who has hunger now?”

Themistocles laughed.

”So say all of us. But if the gifts of Demeter cannot strengthen, it is not so with those of Dionysus. Drink.”

He took from a hook a leathern bottle and poured out a hornful of hot Chian. Glaucon did not refuse. After he had finished the admiral did likewise. Then Glaucon in turn asked questions.

”Where is my wife?”

”In the town of Salamis, with her father; do you know she has borne-”

”A son. Are both well?”

”Well. The child is fair as the son of Leto.”

They could see the light flash out of the eyes of the outlaw. He turned toward the statue and stretched out his hand.

”O Aphrodite, I bless thee!” Then again to the admiral, ”And Hermione is not yet given to Democrates in marriage?” The words came swiftly.

”Not yet. Hermippus desires it. Hermione resists. She calls Democrates your destroyer.”

Glaucon turned away his face that they might not behold it.

”The G.o.d has not yet forgotten mercy,” Simonides thought he heard him say.

”The pinnace is waiting, _kyrie_,” announced the orderly from the companionway.

”Let the deserter's skiff be towed behind,” ordered Themistocles, once on deck, ”and let Sicinnus also go with me.”

The keen-eyed Asiatic took his place with Themistocles and Glaucon in the stern. The st.u.r.dy boatmen sent the pinnace dancing. All through the brief voyage the admiral was at whispers with Sicinnus. As they reached the Spartan flag-s.h.i.+p, half a score of pinnaces trailing behind told how the Peloponnesian admirals were already aboard clamouring at Eurybiades for orders to fly. From the ports of the stern-cabin the glare of many lamps spread wavering bars of light across the water. 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 s.h.i.+p'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 G.o.d prosper you now, not all Olympus can save our h.e.l.las 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 _Nausicaa_, 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 pa.s.sed 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.”