“Well; I cannot say that you are wrong. If you think fit to go, I shall not seek to hold you back. I must frankly say that I see little hope.”
“And you?” Callias went on after a pause. “What shall you do, if I may make so bold as to ask?”
“If I can save my country at all, it will be here. The only hope now is to detach Persia from Sparta. Perhaps now that Athens has fallen so low, the Persians will see what their true interests are. The worst of it is that there is no real ruler, no one to carry out a consistent policy. The great king is absolute at the capital, but in the provinces he is little more than a name. The satraps do almost as they please; they actually make war on each other if it suits their purpose. So, it is not what is best for Persia, but what Tissaphernes or Pharnabazus may think best for himself that will be done. Still there is a chance left; only I must be on the spot to seize it if it comes. Were I to go to Athens, I should be only one man among a useless crowd, and you, my young friend, will, I very much fear, be little more.”
“Anyhow I shall go,” replied the young man, “at all events there will be one sword more to be drawn for Athens.”
“Yes,” muttered Alcibiades to himself, as his companion left the room, “if you get the chance of drawing it. I rather think that with that fox Lysander in command, you will do nothing more for Athens than bring one more mouth to be fed.”
Callias made his way to the coast with no difficulty. Assuming, at the suggestion of Alcibiades, a citizen’s dress, he joined a caravan of traders which was on its way westward, and in their company travelled pleasantly and safely. Arrived at Miletus he took passage in a merchant ship that was bound for Ægina, hoping if he could only get so far, to be able to make his way somehow into the city. At one time, indeed, he was terribly afraid that this hope would be disappointed. The Swallow—this was the name of the vessel of Ægina—was challenged and overhauled by a Corinthian ship of war. Callias made no attempt to conceal his nationality. Indeed it would have been useless, for an Athenian in those days was about as easily recognized over the whole of the Greek world as an Englishman is recognized in these, anywhere in Europe. To his great surprise the Corinthian captain simply said: “You can go; I have no order to detain you.” That there was no kindness in his permission Callias was perfectly well aware, for the hatred of Corinth for Athens was tenfold more bitter than that of Sparta.
It was a quarrel between Athens and Corinth, on the tender point of a rebellious Corinthian colony, that had been the immediate cause of the Peloponnesian War; and even before this there had always been the potent influence of commercial rivalry to set the two states against each other. The young Athenian noticed also a sinister smile on the captain’s face; but what it meant he was at a loss to determine.
Landed at Ægina he lost no time in enquiring how he might best reach his destination.
“Oh! you will get in easily enough,” said the Æginetan merchant, the owner of the Swallow, to whom he stated his case.
“Is not the city blockaded then?”