CHAPTER XXXI
DEMOCRATES SURRENDERS
Hellas was saved. But whether forever or only for a year the gods kepthid. Panic-stricken, the "Lord of the World" had fled to Asia after thegreat disaster. The eunuchs, the harem women, the soft-handed pages, hadescaped with their master to luxurious Sardis, the remnant of the fleetfled back across the AEgean. But the brain and right arm of the Persians,Mardonius the Valiant, remained in Hellas. With him were still the Medianinfantry, the Tartar horse-archers, the matchless Persian lancers,--thebackbone of the undefeated army. Hellas was not yet safe.
Democrates had prospered. He had been reelected strategus. If Themistoclesno longer trusted him quite so freely as once, Aristeides, restored now tomuch of his former power, gave him full confidence. Democrates foundconstant and honourable employment through the winter in the endlessnegotiations at Sparta, at Corinth, and elsewhere, while the jealous Greekstates wrangled and intrigued, more to humiliate some rival than toadvance the safety of Hellas. But amongst all the patriot chiefs noneseemed more devoted to the common weal of Hellas than the Athenian orator.
Hermippus at least was convinced of this. The Eleusinian had settled atTroezene on the Argive coast, a hospitable city that received many anoutcast Athenian. He found his daughter's resistance to another marriageincreasingly unreasonable. Was not Glaucon dead for more than a year?Ought not any woman to bless Hera who gave her so noble, so eloquent, ahusband as Democrates--pious, rich, trusted by the greatest, and with thebest of worldly prospects?
"If you truly desire any other worthy man, _makaira_," said Hermippus,once, "you shall not find me obstinate. Can a loving father say more? Butif you are simply resolved never to marry, I will give you to him despiteyour will. A senseless whim must not blast your highest happiness."
"He ruined Glaucon," said Hermione, tearfully.
"At least," returned Lysistra, who like many good women could sayexceeding cruel things, "_he_ has never been a traitor to his country."
Hermione's answer was to fly to her chamber, and to weep--as many a timebefore--over Phoenix in the cradle. Here old Cleopis found her, took her inher arms, and sang her the old song about Alphaeus chasing Arethusa--a songmore fit for Phoenix than his mother, but most comforting. So the contestfor the moment passed, but after a conference with Hermippus, Democrateswent away on public business to Corinth unusually well pleased with theworld and himself.
It was a tedious, jangling conference held at the Isthmus city. Mardoniushad tempted the Athenians sorely. In the spring had come his envoysproffering reparation for all injuries in the wars, enlarged territory,and not slavery, but free alliance with the Great King, if they would butjoin against their fellow-Hellenes. The Athenians had met the tempter asbecame Athenians. Aristeides had given the envoys the answer of the wholepeople.
"We know your power. Yet tell it to Mardonius, that so long as Heliosmoves in the heavens we will not make alliance with Xerxes, but rathertrust to the gods whose temples he has burned."
Bravely said, but when the Athenians looked to Sparta for the great armyto hasten north and give Mardonius his death-stroke, it was the oldwearisome tale of excuses and delay. At the conference in CorinthAristeides and Democrates had passed from arguments to all but threats,even such as Themistocles had used at Salamis. It was after one of thesefruitless debates that Democrates passed out of the gathering at theCorinthian prytaneum, with his colleagues all breathing forth their wrathagainst Dorian stupidity and evasiveness.
Democrates himself crossed the city Agora, seeking the house of thefriendly merchant where he was to sup. He walked briskly, his thoughtsmore perhaps on the waiting betrothal feast at Troezene, than on thediscussion behind him. The Agora scene had little to interest, the samebuyers, booths, and babel as in Athens, only the citadel above was themount of Acro-Corinthus, not the tawny rock of Athena. And in late monthshe had begun to find his old fears and terrors flee away. Every day he wasgrowing more certain that his former "missteps"--that was his own name forcertain occurrences--could have no malign influence. "After all," he wasreflecting, "Nemesis is a very capricious goddess. Often she forgets for alifetime, and after death--who knows what is beyond the Styx?"
He was on such noble terms with all about him that he could even give earto the whine of a beggar. The man was sitting on the steps between thepillars of a colonnade, with a tame crow perched upon his fist, and asDemocrates passed he began his doggerel prayer:--
"Good master, a handful of barley bestow On the child of Apollo, the sage, sable crow."
The Athenian began to fumble in his belt for an obol, when he was rudelydistracted by a twitch upon his chiton. Turning, he was little pleased tocome face to face with no less a giant than Lycon.
"There was an hour, _philotate_," spoke the Spartan, with ill-concealedsneer, "when you did not have so much silver to scatter out to beggars."
Time had not mended Lycon's aspect, nor taken from his eye that sinistertwinkle which was so marked a foil to his brutishness.
"I did not invite you, dear fellow," rejoined the Athenian, "to remind meof the fact."
"Yet you should have gratitude, and you have lacked that virtue of late.It was a sorry plight Mardonius's money saved you from two years since,and nobly have you remembered his good service."
"Worthy Lacedaemonian," said Democrates, with what patience he couldcommand, "if you desire to go over all that little business whichconcerned us then, at least I would suggest not in the open Agora." Hestarted to walk swiftly away. The Spartan's ponderous strides easily keptbeside him. Democrates looked vainly for an associate whom he couldapproach and on some pretext could accompany. None in sight. Lycon keptfast 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 wearyof Sparta and its black broth and iron money; third, and here is the rosefor my garland, I had need to confer with your noble 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-likechuckle,--"still he is not Apollo, and there are too many strings on thislyre for him to play them all. Besides, he failed at Salamis."
"He did! Zeus blast his importunity and yours likewise. Where are youtaking me? I warn you in advance, you are 'shearing an ass,'--attemptingthe impossible,--if you deceive yourself as to my power. I can do nothingmore to prevent the war from being pressed against Mardonius. It is onlyyour 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 shadedportico."
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 werestraying 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."
"Passing well, by Athena's favour."
"You should say by Hermes's favour, but I would trust you Athenians togrow fat on successful villany and then bless the righteous gods."
"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, thelength and breadth of my errand is this, Mardonius must fight soon, andmust be victorious."
"That is for your brave ephors to say," darted Democrates. "According totheir valiant proposals they desire this war to imitate that with Troy,--tolast ten years."
"Indeed--but I always held my people surpassed in procrastination, as yoursin deceiving. However, their minds will change."
"Aristeides and Them
istocles will bless you for that."
Lycon shrugged his great shoulders.
"Then I'll surpass the gods, who can seldom please all men. Still it isquite 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 dealmore of power. My uncle Nicander is at present head of the board ofephors, and gladly takes my advice."
"Ha!" Democrates began to divine the drift.
"It seemed best to me after the affair at Salamis to give the lie to mycalumniators, who hinted that I desired to 'Medize,' and that it was by myintriguing that the late king took so small a force to Thermopylae."
"All Hellas knows _your_ patriotism!" cried Democrates, satirically.
"Even so. I have silenced my fiercest abusers. If I have not yet urged inour assembly that we should fight Mardonius, it is merely because--it isnot yet prudent."
"Excellent scoundrel," declared the other, writhing on his seat, "you areno Spartan, but long-winded as a Sicilian."
"Patience, _philotate_, a Spartan must either speak in apothegms or takeall day. I have not advised a battle yet because I was not certain of youraid."
"Ay, by Zeus," broke out Democrates, "that ointment I sniffed a long wayoff. I can give you quick answer. Fly back to Sparta, swift as Boreas;plot, conspire, earn Tartarus, to your heart's content--you'll get no morehelp from me."
"I expected that speech." Lycon's coolness drove his victim almostfrantic.
"In the affair of Tempe I bent to you for the last time," Democratescharged desperately. "I have counted the cost. Perhaps you can use againstme certain documents, but I am on a surer footing than once. In the lastyear I have done such service to Hellas I can even hope to be forgiven,should these old mistakes be proved. And if you drive me to bay, be sureof this, I will see to it that all the dealings betwixt the Barbarian andyour noble self are expounded to your admiring countrymen."
"You show truly excellent courage, dear Democrates," cried Lycon, inpseudo-admiration. "That speech was quite worthy of a tragic actor."
"If we're in the theatre, let the chorus sing its last strophe and havedone. You disgust me."
"Peace, peace," ordered Lycon, his hand still on the Athenian's shoulder,"I will make all the haste I can, but obstinacy is disagreeable. I repeat,you are needed, sorely needed, by Mardonius to enable him to complete theconquest of Hellas. You shall not call the Persians ungrateful--the tyrannyof Athens under the easy suzerainty of the king, is that no dish to whetyour appetite?"
"I knew of the offer before."
"A great pity you are not more eager. Hermes seldom sends such chancestwice. I hoped to have you for 'my royal brother' when they gave me thelike lordship of Lacedaemon. However, the matter does not end with yourrefusal."
"I have said, 'Do your worst.' "
"And my worst is--Agis."
For an instant Lycon was dismayed. He thought he had slain his victim withone word. Democrates dropped from his clutch and upon the pavement asthough stricken through the heart by an arrow. He was pallid as a corpse,at first he only groaned.
"_Eu! eu!_ good comrade," cried the Spartan, dragging him up, halftriumphant, half sympathetic, "I did not know I was throwing Zeus'sthunderbolts."
The Athenian sat with his head on his hands. In all his dealings with theSpartan he had believed he had covered the details of the fate of Glaucon.Lycon could surmise what he liked, but the proof to make the damningcharges good Democrates believed he had safe in his own keeping. Only oneman could have unlocked the casket of infamy--Agis--and the mention of hisname was as a bolt from the blue.
"Where is he? I heard he was killed at Artemisium." Lycon hardlyunderstood his victim's thick whispers.
"Wounded indeed, _philotate_, taken prisoner, and sent to Thebes. Therefriends of mine found he had a story to tell--greatly to my advantage. Itis only a little time since he came to Sparta."
"What lies has he told?"
"Several, dear fellow, although if they are lies, then Aletheia, LadyTruth, must almost own them for her children. At least they areinteresting lies; as, for example, how you advised the Cyprian to escapefrom Athens, how you gave Agis a letter to hide in the boots of Glaucon'smessenger, of your interviews with Lampaxo and Archias, of the charmingart you possess of imitating handwritings and seals."
"Base-born swine! who will believe him?"
"Base born, Democrates, but hardly swinish. He can tell a very clearstory. Likewise, Lampaxo and Archias must testify at the trial, also yourslave Bias can tell many interesting things."
"Only if I consent to produce him."
"When did a master ever refuse to let his slave testify, if demanded,unless he wished to blast his own cause with the jury? No, _makaire_, youwill not enjoy the day when Themistocles arrays the testimony againstyou."
Democrates shivered. The late spring sun was warm. He felt no heat. A merecharge of treason he was almost prepared now to endure. If MistressFortune helped him, he might refute it, but to be branded before Hellas asthe destroyer of his bosom friend, and that by guile the like whereofTantalus, Sisyphus, and Ixion conjoined had never wrought--what wonder hisknees smote together? Why had he not foreseen that Agis would fall intoLycon's hands? Why had he trusted that lying tale from Artemisium? Andworst of all, worse than the howls of the people who would tear his bodyasunder like dogs, not waiting the work of the hemlock, was the thought ofHermione. She hated him now. How she would love him, though he sat onXerxes's throne, if once her suspicion rose to certainty! He saw himselfruined in life and in love, and blazoned as infamous forever.
Lycon was wise enough to sit some moments, letting his utterance do itswork. He was confident, and rightly. Democrates looked on him at last. Theworkings of the Athenian's face were terrible.
"I am your slave, Spartan. Had you bought me for ten minae and held thebill of sale, I were not yours more utterly. Your wish?"
Lycon chose his words and answered slowly.
"You must serve Persia. Not for a moment, but for all time. You must placethat dreadful gift of yours at our disposal. And in return take what ispromised,--the lordship of Athens."
"No word of that," groaned the wretched man, "what will you do?"
"Aristeides is soon going to Sparta to press home his demands that theLacedaemonians march in full force against Mardonius. I can see to it thathis mission succeeds. A great battle will be fought in Boeotia. _We_ cansee to it that Mardonius is so victorious that all further resistancebecomes a dream."
"And my part in this monster's work?"
The demands and propositions with which Lycon answered this despairingquestion will unfold themselves in due place and time. Suffice it here,that when he let the Athenian go his way Lycon was convinced thatDemocrates had bound himself heart and soul to forward his enterprise. Theorator was no merry guest for his Corinthian hosts that night. He returnedto his old manner of drinking unmixed wine. "Thirsty as a Macedonian!"cried his companions, in vain endeavour to drive him into a laugh. Theydid not know that once more the chorus of the Furies was singing about hisears, and he could not still it by the deepest wine-cup. They did not knowthat every time he closed his eyes he was seeing the face of Glaucon. Thatmorning he had mocked at Nemesis. That night he heard the beating of herbrazen wings.