The lad went on the errand and returned in a few minutes. He brought back the news that neither of the occupants of the tent were there; and he added an interesting piece of information which, being an intelligent young fellow, he had gathered on his way, that they had been seen to come back, and to go out again with their weapons and armour.
“It was odd,” said Charidemus, who had his own idea about the matter, “that Meleager had nothing to say about the place where the breach might be best stormed, when we consider the speech he made.”
Some one here remarked that he had observed the two Inseparables whispering together while the discussion was going on.
“Then,” cried Charidemus, “depend upon it, they have gone to make a try for themselves.”
“Impossible!” said one of the guests. “What, these two! They cannot have been such madmen!”
“If they have,” laughed another, “this Myndian vintage must be more potent, or our friends’ brains weaker, than Pausanias thinks.”
But the incredulity with which this astonishing suggestion was at first received soon gave way to the belief that it was not only possibly, but even probably, true. The two friends were notorious dare-devils; and the fact that they had taken their arms with them was, considering that they were neither of them on duty for the night, almost conclusive.
“Run to Parmenio’s tent,” said Charidemus’ superior officer to him, “and tell him what we suppose.”
The young man overtook the general before he had reached his quarters, and told his story. Parmenio, as may be supposed, was greatly annoyed at having his hand forced in this way. “The Furies seize the hot-headed young fools! Are they in command or am I—not to speak of the king? They have made their pudding; let them eat of it. I shall not risk any man’s life on such hare-brained follies.”