“Well, my affair is not urgent for some days, at least. But for yourself, I fancy you cannot get out of the way too soon. I don’t think that Theramenes and his friends will stick much at forms and ceremonies. I own that I shall feel much happier when there are two or three hundred miles of sea between you and them. Be here an hour after sunset to-morrow. By that time I shall have arranged for your passage and got ready your letters of introduction and the rest of it.”
“Well,” said the young man to himself as he went to make his preparations for departure, “this, it must be confessed, is a little hard on me. Hermione says, ‘Stop in Athens and stick to your career’; her father says, ‘If you stop in Athens you are as good as a dead man, and your career will be cut short by the hemlock cup.’ I have to give up my love for my career and then give up my career for my life.”
It is needless to relate the incidents of my hero’s voyage to Rhodes or of his stay on that island. His special mission he was able to accomplish easily enough. Diagoras’ speculation was, as he soon found out, the last resource of an embarrassed man; and the loan for which he asked would be a risk too great for any prudent person to undertake. The letter in which he communicated what he had heard to Hippocles was crossed by one from Athens. From this he learned that the political anticipations of the merchant had been more than fulfilled. The oligarchical revolution had been carried on with the most outrageous violence. On the very day on which he had left Athens, an officer of the government had come with an order for his arrest.
All this was interesting; still more so was a brief communication from Alcibiades which the merchant enclosed. It ran thus:
“Alcibiades to Callias son of Hipponicus, greeting. Great things are possible now to the bold of whom I know you to be one. More I do not say, but come to me as soon as you can. Farewell.”
The merchant had added a postscript. “I leave this for your consideration. Alcibiades has a certain knack of success. But the risk will be great.”
“What is risk to me?” said Callias. “I can’t spend my life idling here.”
The next day he left the island, taking his passage in a merchant ship which, by great good luck was just starting for Smyrna. Smyrna was reached without any mishap. Four days afterwards, he started with a guide for the little village in Phrygia from which Alcibiades had dated his note. Halting at noon on the first day’s journey to rest their horses, they were accosted by a miserable looking wayfarer, who begged for some scraps of food, declaring that he had not broken his fast for four and twenty hours. Something in the man’s voice and face struck Callias as familiar, and he puzzled in vain for a solution of the mystery, while the stranger sat eagerly devouring the meal with which he had been furnished.
“Here,” said Callias, when the man had finished his repast and was thanking him, “here is something to help you along till you can find friends or employment.” And he gave him four or five silver pieces.
It was the first time he had spoken in the fugitive’s hearing, and the man, who, now that his ravenous hunger was appeased, had leisure to notice other things, started at the sound of his voice. He, on his part, seemed to recognize something.