A Victor of Salamis

  CHAPTER X

  DEMOCRATES RESOLVES

  Democrates surpassed himself when arraigning the knavish contractor."Nestor and Odysseus both speak to us," shouted Polus in glee, flinginghis black bean in the urn. "What eloquence, what righteous fury when hepainted the man's infamy to pillage the city in a crisis like this!"

  So the criminal was sent to death and Democrates was showered withcongratulations. Only one person seemed hardly satisfied with all theyoung orator did,--Themistocles. The latter told his lieutenant candidly hefeared all was not being done to apprehend the Persian emissary.Themistocles even took it upon himself to send Sicinnus to run downseveral suspects, and just on the morning of the day preceding thePanathenaea--the great summer festival--Democrates received a hint which senthim home very thoughtful. He had met his chief in the Agora as he wasleaving the Government-House, and Themistocles had again asked if he hadsmelt aught of the Persian agent. He had not.

  "Then you would well devote more time to finding his scent, and less toconvicting a pitiful embezzler. You know the Alopece suburb?"

  "Certainly."

  "And the house of Phormio the fishmonger?" to which Democrates nodded.

  "Well, Sicinnus has been watching the quarter. A Babylonish carpet-sellerhas rooms opposite Phormio. The man is suspicious, does no trading, andPhormio's wife told Sicinnus an odd tale."

  "What tale?" Democrates glanced at a passing chariot, avoidingThemistocles's gaze.

  "Why, twice the Barbarian, she swears, has had an evening visitor--and heour dear Glaucon."

  "Impossible."

  "Of course. The good woman is mistaken. Still, question her. Pry into thisBabylonian's doings. He may be selling more things than carpets. If he hascorrupted any here in Athens,--by Pluto the Implacable, I will make themtell out the price!"

  "I'll inquire at once."

  "Do so. The matter grows serious."

  Themistocles caught sight of one of the archons and hastened across theAgora to have a word with him. Democrates passed his hand across hisforehead, beaded with sudden sweat-drops. He knew--though Themistocles hadsaid not a word--that his superior was beginning to distrust his efforts,and that Sicinnus was working independently. Democrates had great respectfor the acuteness of that Asiatic. He was coming perilously near the truthalready. If the Cyprian and Hiram were arrested, the latter at least wouldsurely try to save his life by betraying their nocturnal visitor. To getthe spy safely out of Athens would be the first step,--but not all.Sicinnus once upon the scent would not readily drop it until he haddiscovered the emissary's confederate. And of the fate of that confederateThemistocles had just given a grim hint. There was one other solutionpossible. If Democrates could discover the confederate _himself_, Sicinnuswould regard the matter as cleared up and drop all interest therein. Allthese possibilities raced through the orator's head, as does the pastthrough one drowning. A sudden greeting startled him.

  "A fair morning, Democrates." It was Glaucon. He walked arm-in-arm withCimon.

  "A fair morning, indeed. Where are you going?"

  "To the Peiraeus to inspect the new tackling of the _Nausicaae_. You willjoin us?"

  "Unfortunately I argue a case before the King Archon."

  "Be as eloquent as in your last speech. Do you know, Cimon declares I amdisloyal too, and that you will soon be prosecuting me?"

  "Avert it, gods! What do you mean?"

  "Why, he is sending a letter to Argos," asserted Cimon. "Now I say Argoshas Medized, therefore no good Hellene should correspond with a traitorousArgive."

  "Be jury on my treachery," commanded Glaucon. "Ageladas themaster-sculptor sends me a bronze Perseus in honour of my victory. Shall Ichurlishly send him no thanks because he lives in Argos?"

  " 'Not guilty' votes the jury; the white beans prevail. So the letter goesto-day?"

  "To-morrow afternoon. You know Seuthes of Corinth--the bow-legged fellowwith a big belly. He goes home to-morrow afternoon after seeing theprocession and the sacrifice."

  "He goes by sea?" asked Democrates, casually.

  "By land; no ship went to his liking. He will lie overnight at Eleusis."

  The friends went their ways. Democrates hardly saw or heard anything untilhe was in his own chambers. Three things were graven on his mind: Sicinnuswas watching, the Babylonian was suspected, Glaucon was implicated and wassending a letter to Argos.

  * * * * * * *

  Bias the Thracian was discovered that afternoon by his master lurking in acorner of the chamber. Democrates seized a heavy dog-whip, lashed the boyunmercifully, then cast him out, threatening that eavesdropping would berewarded by "cutting into shoe soles." Then the master resumed hisfeverish pacings and the nervous twisting of his fingers. Unfortunately,Bias felt certain the threat would never have been uttered unless theweightiest of matters had been on foot. As in all Greek dwellings,Democrates's rooms were divided not by doors but by hanging curtains, andBias, letting curiosity master fear, ensconced himself again behind one ofthese and saw all his master's doings. What Democrates said and did,however, puzzled his good servant quite sufficiently.

  Democrates had opened the privy cupboard, taken out one of the caskets andscattered its contents upon the table, then selected a papyrus, and seemedcopying the writing thereon with extreme care. Next one of the clay sealscame into play. Democrates was testing it upon wax. Then the orator rose,dashed the wax upon the floor, put his sandal thereon, tore the papyrus onwhich he wrote to bits. Again he paced restlessly, his hands clutching hishair, his forehead frowns and blackness, while Bias thought he heard himmuttering as he walked:--

  "O Zeus! O Apollo! O Athena! I cannot do this thing! Deliver me! Deliver!"

  Then back to the table again, once more to pick up the mysterious clay,again to copy, to stamp on the wax, to fling down, mutilate, and destroy.The pantomime was gone through three times. Bias could make nothing of it.Since the day his parents--following the barbarous Thracian custom--had soldhim into slavery and he had passed into Democrates's service, the lad hadnever seen his master acting thus.

  "Clearly the _kyrios_ is mad," was his own explanation, and growingfrightened at following the strange movements of his lord, he crept fromhis retreat and tried to banish uncanny fears at a safe distance, by tyinga thread to the leg of a gold-chafer(5) and watching its vain efforts atflight. Yet had he continued his eavesdropping he might have found--if notthe key to all Democrates's doings--at least a partial explanation. For thefourth time the papyrus had been written, for the fourth time the oratorhad torn it up. Then his eyes went down to the lump of clay before him onthe table.

  "Curses upon the miserable stuff!" he swore almost loudly; "it is thiswhich has set the evil thoughts to racing. Destroy _that_, and the deed isbeyond my power."

  He held up the clay and eyed it as a miser might his gold.

  "What a little lump! Not very hard. I can dash it on the floor and itdissolves in dust. And yet, and yet--all Elysium, all Tartarus, are pent upfor me in just this bit of clay."

  He picked at it with his finger and broke a small piece from the edge.

  "A little more, the stamp is ruined. I could not use it. Better if it wereruined. And yet,--and yet,--"

  He laid the clay upon the table and sat watching it wistfully.

  "O Father Zeus!" he broke out after silence, "if I were not compelled byfear! Sicinnus is so sharp, Themistocles so unmerciful! It would be aterrible death to die,--and every man is justified in shunning death."

  He looked at the inanimate lump as if he expected it to answer him.

  "Ah, I am all alone. No one to counsel me. In every other trouble when hasit been as this? Glaucon? Cimon? Themistocles?--What would they advise?"--heended with a laugh more bitter than a sob. "And I must save myself, but atsuch a price!"

  He pressed his hands over his eyes.

  "Curses on the hour I met Lycon! Curses on the Cyprian and his gold! Itwould have been b
etter to have told Glaucon and let him save me now andhate me forever after. But I have sold myself to the Cyprian. The deedcannot be taken back."

  But as he said it, he arose, took the charmed bit of clay, replaced in thebox, and locked the coffer. His hand trembled as he did it.

  "I cannot do this thing. I have been foolish, wicked,--but I must not bedriven mad by fear. The Cyprian must quit Athens to-morrow. I can throwSicinnus off the scent. I shall never be the worse."

  He walked with the box toward the cupboard, but stopped halfway.

  "It is a dreadful death to die;"--his thoughts raced and were halfuttered,--"hemlock!--men grow cold limb by limb and keep all their facultiesto the end. And the crows in the Barathrum, and the infamy upon myfather's name! When was a son of the house of Codrus branded 'A Traitor toAthens'? Is it wickedness to save one's own life?"

  Instead of going to the cupboard he approached the window. The sun beathotly, but as he leaned forth into the street he shivered as on a winter'smorn. In blank wretchedness he watched the throng beneath the window,pannier-laden asses, venders of hot sausage with their charcoal stoves andtrays, youths going to and from the gymnasium, slaves returning frommarket. How long he stood thus, wretched, helpless, he did not know. Atlast he stirred himself.

  "I cannot stand gaping like a fool forever. An omen, by every god an omen!Ah! what am I to do?" He glanced toward the sky in vain hope of a luckyraven or eagle winging out of the east, but saw only blue and brightness.Then his eye went down the street, and at the glance the warm bloodtingled from his forehead to his heels.

  She was passing,--Hermione, child of Hermippus. She walked before, twocomely maids went after with her stool and parasol; but they were thepeonies beside the rose. She had thrown her blue veil back. The sun playedover the sheen of her hair. As she moved, her floating saffron dress ofthe rare muslin of Amorgos now revealed her delicate form, now clothed herin an enchanting cloud. She held her head high, as if proud of her owngrace and of the beauty and fair name of her husband. She never lookedupward, nor beheld how Democrates's eyes grew like bright coals as hegazed on her. He saw her clear high forehead, he heard--or thought he hearddespite the jar of the street--the rustle of the muslin robe. Hermionepassed, nor ever knew how, by taking this way from the house of a friend,she coloured the skein of life for three mortals--for herself, her husband,and Democrates.

  Democrates followed her with his eyes until she vanished around thefountain at the street corner; then sprang back from the window. Theworkings of his face were terrible. It was an instant when men grasp thegodlike or sink to the demon, when they do deeds never to be recalled.

  "The omen!" he almost cried, "the omen! Not Zeus but Hermes the Guilefulsent it. He will be with me. She is Glaucon's wife. But if not his, whosethen but mine? I will do the deed to the uttermost. The god is with me."

  He flung the casket upon the table and spread its fateful contents againbefore him. His hand flew over the papyrus with marvellous speed andskill. He knew that all his faculties were at his full command andunwontedly acute.

  Bias was surprised at his sport by a sudden clapping of his master'shands.

  "What is it, _kyrie_?"

  "Go to Agis. He keeps the gaming-house in the Ceramicus. You know where.Tell him to come hither instantly. He shall not lack reward. Make yourfeet fly. Here is something to speed them."

  He flung at the boy a coin. Bias opened eyes and mouth in wonder. It wasnot silver, but a golden daric.

  "Don't blink at it, sheep, but run. Bring Agis," ordered the master,--andBias's legs never went faster than on that afternoon.

  Agis came. Democrates knew his man and had no difficulty in finding hisprice. They remained talking together till it was dark, yet in so guardeda tone that Bias, though he listened closely, was unable to make outanything. When Agis went away, he carried two letters. One of these heguarded as if holding the crown jewels of the Great King; the second hedespatched by a discreet myrmidon to the rooms of the Cyprian in Alopece.Its contents were pertinent and ran thus:--

  "Democrates to the stranger calling himself a prince of Cyprus,greeting:--Know that Themistocles is aware of your presence in Athens, andgrows suspicious of your identity. Leave Athens to-morrow or all is lost.The confusion accompanying the festival will then make escape easy. Theman to whom I entrust this letter will devise with Hiram the means foryour flight by ship from the havens. May our paths never crossagain!--_Chaire._"

  After Agis was gone the old trembling came again to Democrates. He hadBias light all the lamps. The room seemed full of lurkinggoblins,--harpies, gorgons, the Hydra, the Minotaur, every other foul andnoxious shape was waiting to spring forth. And, most maddening of all, thechorus of AEschylus, that Song of the Furies Democrates had heard recitedat the Isthmus, rang in the miserable man's ears:--

  "With scourge and with ban We prostrate the man, Who with smooth-woven wile, And a fair-faced smile Hath planted a snare for his friend. Though fleet, we shall find him; Though strong, we shall bind him, Who planted a snare for his friend."

  Democrates approached the bust of Hermes standing in one corner. Thebrazen face seemed to wear a smile of malignant gladness at the fulfilmentof his will.

  "Hermes," prayed the orator, "Hermes Dolios, god of craft and lies,thieves' god, helper of evil,--be with me now. To Zeus, to Athena the pure,I dare not pray. Prosper me in the deed to which I set my hand,"--hehesitated, he dared not bribe the shrewd god with too mean a gift, "and Ivow to set in thy temple at Tanagra three tall tripods of pure gold. So bewith me on the morrow, and I will not forget thy favour."

  The brazen face still smiled on; the room was very still. Yet Democratestook comfort. Hermes was a great god and would help him. When the song ofthe Furies grew too loud, Democrates silenced it by summoning backHermione's face and asking one triumphant question:--

  "She is Glaucon's wife. But if not his, whose then but mine?"