"Don't you think we could find Uncle Phaon's house by ourselves?" asked
Dion.
"Oh," cried Daphne, shuddering, "never! We couldn't even by daylight, and now it is almost dark."
"Anyway," said Dion, "we're safer being lost here than anywhere else in
Athens. It's where the Gods live. Maybe they'll take care of us."
"We might sacrifice something on an altar," said Daphne, "and pray, the way Father does."
"We haven't a thing to sacrifice," answered Dion. "We haven't anything to eat even for ourselves."
They were so tired and hungry and discouraged by this time that they didn't say another word. They just sat still in the gathering darkness, and wished with all their hearts that they had never come to Athens at all.
They were startled by hearing footsteps above them on the porch. The stone balustrade was so high, and the children were crouched so far below it near the ground, that they could not be seen by people above unless they should lean over the balustrade and look down. The twins snuggled closer together in the darkness and kept very still. Suddenly they heard voices above them; there were two men on the porch talking together in low tones. One was the voice of Lampon the priest; the children both recognized it at once.
"Look over there," it was saying. "Pericles is building new temples in
Athens, to the dishonor and neglect of the oldest and most sacred of all.
Pericles does not fear the Gods, even though they have raised him to
his proud position. He is a traitor to our holy office, and I hate him."
"You speak strongly," said the other voice.
"It isn't only that he neglects the old temples and refuses to restore them, but he actually builds a new one before our eyes on this holy hill," went on the voice of Lampon. "It is not only an impiety in itself, but an affront to you and your holy office. I myself saw his scorn and indifference this very day. I was called to his house by his pious wife to see a prodigy. A ram was brought from his country estate that had but one horn,—a marvel, truly!"