Part 50 (1/2)
Time had not mended Lycon's aspect, nor taken from his eye that sinister twinkle which was so marked a foil to his brutishness.
”I did not invite you, dear fellow,” rejoined the Athenian, ”to remind me of the fact.”
”Yet you should have grat.i.tude, and you have lacked that virtue of late.
It was a sorry plight Mardonius's money saved you from two years since, and n.o.bly have you remembered his good service.”
”Worthy Lacedaemonian,” said Democrates, with what patience he could command, ”if you desire to go over all that little business which concerned us then, at least I would suggest not in the open Agora.” He started to walk swiftly away. The Spartan's ponderous strides easily kept beside him. Democrates looked vainly for an a.s.sociate whom he could approach and on some pretext could accompany. None in sight. Lycon kept fast hold of his cloak. For practical purposes Democrates was prisoner.
”Why in Corinth?” he threw out sullenly.
”For three reasons, _philotate_,” Lycon grinned over his shoulder, ”first, the women at the Grove of Aphrodite here are handsome; second, I am weary of Sparta and its black broth and iron money; third, and here is the rose for my garland, I had need to confer with your n.o.ble self.”
”Would not Hiram be your dutiful messenger again?” queried the other, vainly watching for escape.
”Hiram is worth twenty talents as a helper;”-Lycon gave a hound-like chuckle,-”still he is not Apollo, and there are too many strings on this lyre for him to play them all. Besides, he failed at Salamis.”
”He did! Zeus blast his importunity and yours likewise. Where are you taking me? I warn you in advance, you are 'shearing an a.s.s,'-attempting the impossible,-if you deceive yourself as to my power. I can do nothing more to prevent the war from being pressed against Mardonius. It is only your Laconian ephors that are hindering.”
”We shall see, _philotate_, we shall see,” grunted the Spartan, exasperatingly cool. ”Here is Poseidon's Temple. Let us sit in the shaded portico.”
Democrates resigned himself to be led to a stone seat against the wall.
The gray old ”dog-watcher” by the gate glanced up to see that no dogs were straying into the holy house, noted only two gentlemen come for a chat, and resumed his siesta. Lycon took a long time in opening his business.
”The world has used you well of late, dear fellow.”
”Pa.s.sing well, by Athena's favour.”
”You should say by Hermes's favour, but I would trust you Athenians to grow fat on successful villany and then bless the righteous G.o.ds.”
”I hope you haven't left Sparta just to revile me!” cried Democrates, leaping up, to be thrust back by Lycon's giant paw.
”_Ai!_ mix a little honey with your speech, it costs nothing. Well, the length and breadth of my errand is this, Mardonius must fight soon, and must be victorious.”
”That is for your brave ephors to say,” darted Democrates. ”According to their valiant proposals they desire this war to imitate that with Troy,-to last ten years.”
”Indeed-but I always held my people surpa.s.sed in procrastination, as yours in deceiving. However, their minds will change.”
”Aristeides and Themistocles will bless you for that.”
Lycon shrugged his great shoulders.
”Then I'll surpa.s.s the G.o.ds, who can seldom please all men. Still it is quite true.”
”I'm glad to hear it.”
”Dear Democrates, you know what's befallen in Sparta. Since Leonidas died, his rivals from my own side of the royal house have gathered a great deal more of power. My uncle Nicander is at present head of the board of ephors, and gladly takes my advice.”
”Ha!” Democrates began to divine the drift.