“Certainly, if you do not mind going so far as a mina. It is really worth the money.”
Callias paid the money, and was told to be in readiness to embark at midnight.
It would have enlightened him considerably if he could have seen the merchant’s behavior as soon as he was safely out of the room.
“Ah, you young serpent,” the man cried, “you will be allowed to creep into your hole easily enough; but if we don’t suffocate you and your whole brood when we have got you there, my name is not Timagenes.”
The fact was that a revolution of which Callias knew nothing had taken place at Ægina. An old rival and enemy of Athens, the city had been conquered many years before, and the anti-Athenian party expelled. And now everything was changed. Lysander had brought back the exiles, and though Athens had still friends, it was the hostile party that was in power. Callias had observed a certain change in the demeanor of the people, but was too much engrossed in his own affairs to think much about it.
The blockade was run as easily as the Æginetan had foretold. The boat passed within fifty yards of one of the squadron, and Callias could have sworn that he saw a sentinel on the watch pacing the vessel’s deck. But the man did not challenge, and the Piraeus was reached without any difficulty.
It was not long before all the mystery was explained.
“This is just what I feared,” said Hippocles, to whose house the young Athenian hastened. “I knew that you would come back, and I could not warn you.”
“What do you mean,” cried the young man in astonishment. “Was it not my duty to return?”
“Yes, in one way it was. But tell me how you got here?”