The Golden Hope: A Story of the Time of King Alexander the Great

by Robert H. Fuller

"No," Thais responded. "To refuse him would be to open his eyes, and he would certainly take us by force. Flight is our only hope."

She gathered her jewels into a packet and placed it in her bosom. She then ordered the women to muffle them in long cloaks that concealed their faces.

"Go down and find out who is there," she said.

One of the women brought word that Phradates had gone to the harbor to see that all was in readiness, and that Mena was also absent. Thais led the way boldly down the stairs and out of the house, followed by Artemisia and the two women. The slaves who were at work below stared at them, but in the absence of their master none ventured to stop them. They gained the street in safety, and were immediately swept away in the clamoring, terror-stricken streams of fugitives who were pouring toward the harbor. A lofty tower that had been built beside the Triple Gate was on fire. The flames roared up the sides of the structure, bursting from its windows and loopholes, and converting it into a gigantic torch. They spread quickly to the houses nearest the walls, sending volumes of reddened smoke rolling over the harbor. The howling of dogs mingled with the shouts of men and the wailing of women who clasped their children to their breasts.

Iphicrates left the walls with his comrades in arms and plunged into the crowded streets. He had intended to seek his own house in the hope of finding some remains of his hoard untouched; but the panic seized him, and he changed his direction. He determined to gain the Royal Citadel, which he knew was to be defended against the Macedonians. Thinking only of his own safety, he forced his way through the press, pushing women and children aside in his haste. Blinded by the terror that possessed him, he took no heed of a small, dark-skinned man with sharp features who reeled back from the thrust of his elbow. Even if he had noticed that the figure fell in behind him, following his footsteps like a shadow, he would have taken him only for one of the fugitives.

Steeped in the contagion of fear, the money-lender hardly noticed where he went. He soon became exhausted by his struggle with the crowd, and he heaved a sigh of relief when he found himself at last in a street that was comparatively deserted. He overlooked the fact that the few persons whom he met were hurrying the other way, and it was not until he was brought to a halt by a blank wall that he recognized his surroundings. He had entered a road from which there was no outlet.

He halted in dismay. The shadow behind him glided into a doorway and crouched out of sight. The street was hemmed in by tall buildings that had been emptied of their tenants, and the light of the burning tower flickered redly upon the upper walls, increasing the gloom below. A sense of loneliness and desertion smote him. He felt himself suddenly cut off from human companionship. His heart beat thickly and heavily. He seemed to be strangling under the oppression of a nameless and deadly horror.

He turned and rushed back in the direction whence he had come. As he passed the doorway within which the shadow had disappeared, a light form bounded out upon him. There was a flash of steel; a lean arm was thrust forward and seemed to touch him lightly on the back beneath his shoulder. He fell upon his face with a choking cry; the shadow leaped over him, fled, and vanished, leaving him motionless where he lay.

Thais and Artemisia were borne forward in the crowd without power to choose the direction of their flight. In the frantic masses of humanity, all fighting toward the harbor, they saw women and children trampled underfoot; and they clung to each other in desperation, knowing that if they fell, they would never be able to rise. The maddened crowd swept them on to the wharves, where the agitated waters of the harbor spread before them like a lake of blood in the glare of the conflagration.

Utterly bewildered and unable to extricate themselves, the young women were drawn hither and thither by the eddies of the mob as it rushed feverishly from one vessel to another, seeking means of escape. Suddenly they found themselves wedged in before a double line of soldiers drawn up before the gangway of a trireme, the sides of which loomed dark above their heads. Torches shed a smoky light upon the agonized faces of the throng, held at bay by the spears of the guard. Warning shouts rose from the darkness, followed by a swaying motion of the crowd which divided before the rush of a compact body of men making toward the vessel. Thais and Artemisia felt themselves crushed forward against the living barrier until they could hardly breathe. They heard the shouting and cursing of the soldiers advancing from the rear into the circle of torchlight. The pressure became unbearable. They had given themselves up for lost, when, before they knew what was taking place, they were seized and borne upward. Thais recovered her senses to find herself seated upon the deck of the trireme, with Artemisia's head in her lap.