“Just so,” replied his guest, “and this excellent cup of Chian will be all the wine that I shall want.”
“Now then for business,” said Hippocles. “Let us hope that the city will pardon us for postponing it so long. But we must eat. Shall my daughter leave us? For my part, I find her a very Athene for counsel.”
“As you will, sir,” replied Callias, “I have nothing to say but what all may know, and indeed will know before a day is past.”
The young man then proceeded to tell the story with which my readers are already acquainted. The question was briefly this: How was Conon to be told that relief was coming?
“I see,” said Hippocles, “that he must be told. He is a brave fellow, and a good general, too, though perhaps a little rash. But he must make terms for himself and his men, unless he has a project of relief. He would not be doing his duty to the state if he did not. But if he capitulates before the relief comes—how many ships has he?”
“Forty,” said Callias.
“And we can have a hundred, or possibly, a hundred and ten here, by straining every nerve. The Spartans have a hundred and forty, I think.”
“A few may have been disabled in the battle; but it would not be safe to reckon on less, for very likely others have been dropping in since then.”
“Then Conon’s party will turn the scale, and they will be better manned, I take it, than any that we shall be able to send out from here. They must not be lost to us. If they are, we shall do better not to send out the fleet at all, but to stand on our defence.”
“Is the Skylark in harbor now?” asked Callias.