Cimon took his leave of Aphobus and Lysimachus and had gone but a few steps when he met Leobotes. He wished to hurry on after a short nod of greeting, but Leobotes stopped him with the words: “Congratulations, Cimon, Themistocles has fled and now there is none before you in Athens.”
“In my opinion Themistocles is fortunate to be away from the immediate influence of the intrigues of certain so-called ‘loyal citizens.’ The fate of Ephialtes should prove a warning to such,” with which words he walked away from Leobotes who was too much astonished to reply.
At last he had opportunity to think! So the fiery statesman, Themistocles, was gone, and he, Cimon, had been instrumental in bringing this about! Well he knew that he had done his utmost to prevent this toward the last. He had humbled himself that Themistocles might not be thought guilty of treason, and all this was for the purpose of obtaining the girl he loved. He realized that whether by force of will or unconsciously he was drawing nearer and nearer to the home of Themistocles. He paused before the entrance, ascended the steps and lifted the bronze knocker. There was no response, so he gently pushed open the door and entered. All was still. He proceeded cautiously to the solarium and found it empty, but from this room the faint sound of voices came to his listening ear. They proceeded from the garden, so thither he betook himself. From the top of a short flight of stone steps which led to the garden, he surveyed the abundance of plants and shrubbery which he thought surpassed even those in the garden of Pasicles. He caught sight of two female figures seated upon a bench at the farther end of the garden. They were Ladice and Asia, the youngest daughter of Themistocles. The girls seemed to be indulging in mutual consolation.
A vague uneasiness that foreboded no good hovered about Cimon as he approached with the words: “Do I intrude?”
Ladice shook her head while Asia arose, hastily excused herself and entered the house.
Cimon took the place that Asia had occupied and said gently: “Ladice, you can not believe how I regret what has happened. Believe that I did all within my power to prevent this ever since our meeting in the shadow of the Acropolis. I have come to take you with me, Ladice. I sail in the morning for Thrace.”
“And you will go alone,” she replied drawing away from him. “Do you think for one moment that I will be the wife of the man who helped to cause the ruin of one whose home has sheltered me for many months? You failed in accomplishing your part of the agreement; I do not have to abide by mine!”
Cimon’s face grew pale and his jaw acquired the peculiar set appearance of indomitability.
“The trouble with me,” he cried, “is that I have been too gentle, too lenient with you. My patience is exhausted and I am going to take you by force.”
He caught her and held her close, though she struggled to free herself from his almost brutal kisses.