“Callias must stay where mother told him—or Mormo will come.”
The tent contained two persons, the ship’s owner and master, a young Attic merchant, who was reclining on a couch, and his wife, who sat on the edge of the seat in front of him.
Glaucus—the merchant’s name—was a man of five and twenty, with a handsome, somewhat pallid face. He was clad in a reddish-brown robe with a broad white border and, as the summer day was scorching hot, he wore no girdle around his waist. In his hand he held a manuscript, but had let it fall by his side as though his thoughts were not fixed on the contents.
“No!” he suddenly exclaimed, as he pushed back his dark locks and flung the scroll on a table, “I cannot forget that strange man!”
“Who was he?” asked his wife.
“How do I know, Charicleia? He rowed out to the ship in the bay of Celenderis to sell us some sheep he had in his boat. You had gone on shore with the slaves to make some purchases. Scarcely had he come on board, ere he asked in the most simple-minded way about everything he saw. He wanted to know whether Indian ivory or Sardian purple was the dearer, and whether a house could be built for the money one of the gold embroidered carpets from Babylon had cost.”
“How did the man look?” asked Charicleia.
“He resembled Heracles, as he is represented on the stage by the actors. He was tall, large-limbed, walked with his back bent, was clumsy and awkward in his movements, and had tangled hair hanging low on his forehead.”
“What else did he notice on board?”
“He could not weary of examining everything. He had never supposed that there were ships so large. Finally he became so troublesome that I ordered my sailors to put him back in his boat; but the giant defended himself and—quicker than speech—two of my steersmen lay stretched on the deck, one with his face bleeding from a blow. Frantic with rage, I gripped his breast, shouting: ‘Quit my ship, Barbarian or, by Zeus, you will fare ill.’ But lo! something very like a miracle happened before our eyes. At the word: ‘Barbarian,’ he drew himself up, flung back his hair, and suddenly stood before us like a totally different being. His stupid look had vanished, his eyes flashed, and his huge figure and dark face made a terrible impression of untamed strength and fierceness. ‘We shall meet again, Athenian!’ he said and, pushing my people aside like bundles of straw, he swung himself down into the boat and rowed swiftly to the shore.”