The calm look on Poseidon's face had disappeared. Anger seemed to be mounting, and his face grew first red, then purple as an angry sea.
"Then let me tell you what this is. This is a bill. And not an ordinary bill. Our good Zeus says, says he: 'Your past bills for the water I have supplied you have not been paid. Your rates are therefore doubled, and the present bill also includes a penalty for late payment and excess water usage. Return payment in full with the boy, or suffer the consequences."
"How dare he! To send such a bill to Poseidon! I rule the waves and all the water under them! Penalties! I am somewhat annoyed by your missive, shipmate. Have you heard the term, keelhaul? It's an old custom to keelhaul those who arouse the ire of Poseidon. And, in the absence of Zeus, mayhap we shall keelhaul his emissary."
Demo looked around. He saw no sign of emissary, none to serve for the aforementioned keelhauling.
Demo shivered.
"Eh, Sire, he seems not to have an emissary handy. Should I see such an emissary, I shall most certainly direct him to you, so that he may participate in the keelhauling. Anyway, now my mission is complete, and I must report back to Zeus."
"Oh, no! I wouldn't think of such a thing. Come aboard, come aboard! Ho the dinghy, we'll be going directly to the ship. Look lively, now!"
Demo followed Poseidon's gaze. Where the sea had been empty now floated a three master, its sails furled. And on the beach a dinghy, manned by a scurvy looking crew of ill-clothed sailors.
"Yes, indeed. I can see you are impressed by her lines. Only wait 'til you are on board. We shall have a sumptuous feast in your honor. Ah, you haven't eaten until you've partaken of the food from my galley. Come along!"
Demo examined, surreptitiously, the oarsmen. Though they rowed with vigor, their faces remained expressionless, their eyes empty. He felt as though he were looking on the spirits of drowned sailors, condemned to these chores for eternity.