“Not murderer,” cried Zopyrus in deep anguish. “Do not say that! I did it in the heat of battle and in self-defense. I am no murderer and my conscience does not reproach me for what happened at Thermopylæ. Listen—Persephone!” But he stood in the garden alone.
CHAPTER XXVII.
The Allied Fleet Sails.
“And still from morn till eve I’ve scanned
That weary sea from strand to strand,
To mark his sail against the spray.
In vain! In vain! The morning ray
Shows not his bark ’mid all the seas.”
Thomas Davidson.
The opportunity for meetings between Cimon and Ladice had been very rare since the former wished as far as possible to avoid meeting Themistocles. The young man had conscientiously endeavored to rectify the harm that he had done against the older man, but the populace preferred to believe the evil charge which was still vigorously promoted by Leobotes and other newly-won conspirators.
One afternoon Cimon walked briskly into the curio shop of Aphobus. The little merchant was dusting with loving care, delicate vases in ivory and bronze of intricate designs.