“Do you know the dungeons in the cliff?” asked Phanos sternly.
Acestor made a sign of assent.
“Well! Sthenelus can tell you what rumor says of them.”
Merry Sthenelus limped a few steps nearer, cleared his throat, and answered in a sepulchral voice:
“Rumor says that prisoners walk into them, but are carried out, feet foremost.”
Acestor kissed the edge of Phanos’ robe.
“Mercy!” he cried. “Mercy! Forgive my evil speech.”
“Spare him,” said Xenocles.
“Let him run,” added Thuphrastos.
“Well then,” replied Phanos, “you boasted of your travels, Acestor. You must journey farther still. If you don’t want to have your hair clipped and become a slave for having your name spuriously inserted on the citizens’ list, you must leave Athens before to-morrow noon.”