“He is. Better, he is the worker of the gods. That is why things have gone wrong, as thou callest it. Thy wrong meaneth right on the other side. There are two sides to all things.”
This was dreadful, but such was the force of example. If the queen would demean herself by speaking her mind, what could be expected of underlings. He glared from the rather aghast Atlana to this rebellious Electra, and said, as if hurling a weapon, “This, thy worker of the gods, is to come down from his height. Ere the day closeth, will he be yielded upon the altar!”
“Beware,” came from Hellen. And he made a step forward.
“Ha! Now it is the rash Hellen of ready tongue. Boy, thou art not in Pelasgia.”
“But soon will be.” Then his crest lowered, for he thought of Electra.
“Hellen,” urged the queen, “better would it be if thou didst not speak.” Then to the king, she said appealingly, “Atlano, of a truth, the galleys wait for us. Let us to them. As thou goest, it may be that thou wilt look with other eyes upon this.”
“Never will I look with other eyes. But I will go with thee to make this naught.”
“Make it not naught, King Atlano,” interposed Æole, to the amazement of all, even himself. Never before had she been known to address him. “Make not naught our going. The heart of Queen Atlana is in this. Let not her hopes come to naught. And, anger not the gods.”
“Hearken unto her, Atlano,” entreated the queen. “Let them go. Further, grant that I may go a short way with them. And come thou on this little sail.”
Atlano was looking into the beautiful, starry eyes that were even more eloquent than the sweet tones. And, most suddenly, felt like giving way. But, checking the impulse, he replied, as if to Atlana,