The hint sent Democrates from the spot almost on a run. Hiram disappeared in the opposite direction. Glaucon rose, shook the sand from his cloak, and stood an instant with his head whirling. The voice of his boyhood friend, of the man who had ruined him because of a suspicion of treason—and now deep in compromising talk with the agent of the chief of the peace party at Sparta! And wherefore had Mardonius spoken those mysterious words at their parting, “Beware of Democrates”? For an instant the problems evoked made him forget even the coming battle.
A clear trumpet-blast down the strand gave a truce to questioning. Sicinnus reappeared, and led Glaucon to one of the great fires roaring on the beach, where the provident Greek sailors were breakfasting on barley porridge and meat broth before dining on spears and arrow-heads. A silent company, no laughter, no jesting. All knew another sun for them might never rise. Glaucon ate not because he hungered, but because duty ordered it. As the light strengthened, the [pg 310]strand grew alive with thousands of men at toil. The triremes drawn on shore went down into the sea on their rollers. More trumpet-blasts sent the rowers aboard their ships. But last of all, before thrusting out to do or die, the Greeks must feast their ears as well as their stomachs. On the sloping beach gathered the officers and the armoured marines,—eighteen from each trireme,—and heard one stirring harangue after another. The old feuds were forgotten. Adeimantus and Eurybiades both spoke bravely. The seers announced that every bird and cloud gave good omen. Prayer was offered to Ajax of Salamis that the hero should fight for his people. Last of all Themistocles spoke, and never to fairer purpose. No boasts, no lip courage, a painting of the noble and the base, the glory of dying as freemen, the infamy of existing as slaves. He told of Marathon, of Thermopylæ, and asked if Leonidas had died as died a fool. He drew tears. He drew vows of vengeance. He never drew applause. Men were too strained for that. At last he sent the thousands forth.
“Go, then. Quit yourselves as Hellenes. That is all the task. And I say to you, in the after days this shall be your joy, to hear the greatest declare of you, ‘Reverence this man, for he saved us all at Salamis.’ ”
The company dispersed, each man to his ship. Themistocles went to his pinnace, and a cheer uprose from sea and land as the boat shot out to the Nausicaä. Eurybiades might be chief in name; who did not know that Themistocles was the surest bulwark of Hellas?
The son of Neocles, standing in the boat, uplifted his face to the now golden east.
“Be witness, Helios,” he cried aloud, “be witness when thou comest, I have done all things possible. And do thou and thy fellow-gods on bright Olympus rule our battle now; the lot is in your hands!”