A trumpet sent its bold notes from the Macedonian camp. The call was taken up by others, rose, and died away. Presently the first squadron of the phalanx wheeled out upon the plain, and began marching slowly and in silence down the gentle slope toward the Persian van.
"We must get into our armor," Chares said, and the two friends hastened down from the rampart.
The camp was swarming like a great beehive. Rough shouts of greeting, jests, and salutations were heard on every side as the soldiers hurried to join their commands. The army was in high spirits at the prospect of a decisive grapple, but the heaviness that oppressed Chares' mind refused to yield to the general enthusiasm. He made his way through the crowds to the purple pavilion set apart for Sisygambis, the mother of Darius, and his children. The beautiful Statira was no longer there. She had died in her captivity.
"I wish to speak with Thais," Chares said to the eunuch who guarded the door.
He was admitted to an anteroom of the tent while a slave carried his message. Thais answered the summons quickly. A proud smile parted her lips when she saw the powerful form of the Theban, clad in resplendent armor; but it vanished when she looked into his face.
He took her hands and bent down to kiss her, while the plumes of his helmet fell about their heads.
"I have but a moment," he said. "Farewell, Thais; you have loved me better than I deserved."
"Chares!" she exclaimed, with a sinking of the heart that caused her voice to flutter. "Why do you speak to me like this? I have loved you and I do love you with all my heart—with all my heart! Never have I loved another, and I never shall. Without you I should die!"
She stood on tiptoe and threw her arms around his neck. "You are all I have!" she cried, with a sob.
"Thais," he said, holding her close, "if I come not back to you, promise me that you will accept what the Gods send. They are wiser than we."