At the other’s nod he cried, “Come with me, I must inform Cimon of this.”
Cimon saw the two approaching and hastened forward to join them with the words: “Ladice is not among the captive women, so it is reasonable to believe that Icetes effected a rescue.”
“The stranger can confirm our hopes,” said Polygnotus. “He has told me that Ladice was rescued from the harem of a certain Artabazus.”
Cimon turned to Zopyrus, his face white with the effort to conceal the agony of suspense.
“Is she now on her way to Athens with her rescuer?” he asked tensely.
“I do not quite understand you,” replied Zopyrus. “I, myself rescued an Athenian maiden by the name of Ladice from the tent of Artabazus. I conducted her in safety across Oak Heads Pass. She then suggested that I go to the Greek encampment on Mt. Cithæron, insisting she could make her way alone to friends in safety since she was away from the Persians.”
“Zeus is merciful!” exclaimed the overwrought Cimon, “but tell me saw you aught of a soldier while you were crossing Oak Heads Pass? You must have met him a little this side of the summit. It was he whom I thought had delivered Ladice from the hands of the Persian.”
The face of Zopyrus grew deathly pale at Cimon’s words.
“Alas!” he cried, “I did meet a soldier on Oak Heads Pass who took me for an enemy without a chance for explanation. We fought together, and in the dark we missed our footing and rolled down a steep embankment. I sustained this broken arm,” he pointed to the sling which supported the broken member, “but my unknown antagonist was killed.”
“Oh my poor Icetes!” cried Cimon greatly distraught. “To think that you met your fate thus, and for me!”