"That is a harsh way to put it," Azemilcus answered. "The city was lost already."
"Is it lost now?" Leonidas demanded, pointing to the new wall.
"Yes," said the old king. "To-day, to-morrow, next month, it will fall. The Gods have deserted us. The boy told me they would."
"It is not surprising that the Gods have deserted you," the Spartan observed. "But your son, who has conspired against you, knows that we are here."
"Yes," the king admitted.
"And you kept us shut up while you were considering whether there was not some way of getting rid of us so that we might not be found and used as proof of your treachery," Leonidas continued. "You were ready to sacrifice us, who had come to save you, so that you might prove your son a liar and defeat his attempt."
Azemilcus made no reply, but the smile left his lips and he glanced furtively from side to side. Chares muttered some words in his throat that sounded like a curse.
"You are speaking to a king," Azemilcus said at last, drawing himself up with an assumption of dignity and trying to meet the eyes of his questioner.
"I am speaking to a fool!" Leonidas replied contemptuously. "In order to profit by his double perfidy, your son must have proof against you. Who will believe him unless we are found? It will be his first care to produce us, and if he can do this, there will be no hope left for you. Every moment that you kept us behind that door brought you nearer to death."
He paused, and Azemilcus made no reply; but his smile came back and his eyes wandered toward a table where a great flagon of wine had been set.