“Oh, grief to report it! Cimon sends a boat from his ship the Perseus. He says the Dikē, the Sicyonian ship beside him, is not stripping for battle, but rigging sail on her spars as if to flee away.”
“Is that all?” asked Themistocles, calmly.
“And there is also a message that Adeimantus and many other admirals who are minded like him have gone again to Eurybiades to urge him not to fight.”
“I expected it.”
“Will the Spartan yield?” The little poet was whitening.
“Very likely. Eurybiades would be a coward if he were not too much of a fool.”
“And you are not going to him instantly, to confound the faint hearts and urge them to quit themselves like Hellenes?”
“Not yet.”
“By the dog of Egypt, man,” cried Simonides, seizing his friend’s arm, “don’t you know that if nothing’s done, we’ll all walk the asphodel to-morrow?”
“Of course. I am doing all I can.”