The business of Hasdrubal with the Bozra at Trœzene appeared simple. The war had disturbed the Greek harvests. He had come accordingly with a cargo of African corn, and was taking a light return lading of olive oil and salt fish. But those who walked along the harbour front remarked that the Bozra was hardly a common merchantman. She was a “sea-mouse,” long, shallow, and very fast under sail; she also carried again an unwontedly heavy crew. When [pg 373]Hasdrubal’s cargo seemed completed, he lingered a couple of days, alleging he was repairing a cable; then the third morning after his nocturnal adventure a cipher letter to Democrates sent the Carthaginian to sea. The letter went thus:—
“Lycon, in the camp of the Greeks in Bœotia, to Democrates in Trœzene, greeting:—The armies have now faced many days. The soothsayers declare that the aggressor is sure to be defeated, still there has been some skirmishing in which your Athenians slew Masistes, Mardonius’s chief of cavalry. This, however, is no great loss to us. Your presence with Aristeides is now urgently needed. Send Hasdrubal and Hiram at once to Asia with the papers we arranged in Corinth. Come yourself with speed to the army. Ten days and this merry dice-throwing is ended. Chaire!”
Democrates immediately after this gave Hiram a small packet of papyrus sheets rolled very tight, with the ominous injunction to “conceal carefully, weight it with lead, and fling it overboard if there is danger of capture.” At which Hiram bowed more elegantly than usual and answered, “Fear not; it shall be guarded as the priests guard the ark of Moloch, and when next your slave comes, it is to salute my Lord as the sovran of Athens.”
Hiram smiled fulsomely and departed. An hour later the Bozra ran out on the light wind around the point of Calauria and into the sparkling sea to eastward. Democrates stood gazing after her until she was a dark speck on the horizon.
The speck at last vanished. The strategus walked homeward. Glaucon was gone. The fateful packet binding Democrates irrevocably to the Persian cause was gone. He could not turn back. At the gray of morning with a few servants he quitted Trœzene, and hastened to join Aristeides and Pausanias in Bœotia.
* * * * * * *
In the hold of the Bozra, where Hasdrubal had stowed his [pg 374]unwilling passengers, there crept just enough sunlight to make darkness visible. The gags had been removed from the prisoners, suffering them to eat, whereupon Lampaxo had raised a truly prodigious outcry which must needs be silenced by a vigorous anointing with Hasdrubal’s whip of bullock’s hide. Her husband and Glaucon disdained to join a clamour which could never escape the dreary cavern of the hold, and which only drew the hoots of their unmagnanimous guardians. The Carthaginians had not misinterpreted Glaucon’s silence, however. They knew well they had a Titan in custody, and did not even unlash his hands. His feet and Phormio’s were tied between two beams in lieu of stocks. The giant Hib took it upon himself to feed them bean porridge with a wooden spoon, making the dainty sweeter with tales of the parching heats of Africa and the life of a slave under Libyan task-masters.
So one day, another, and another, while the Bozra rocked at anchor, and the prisoners knew that liberty lay two short cable lengths away, yet might have been in Atlantis for all it profited them. Phormio never reviled his wife as the author of their calamity, and Lampaxo, with nigh childish earnestness, would protest that surely Democrates knew not what the sailors did when they bound her.
“So noble a patriot! An evil god bewitched him into letting these harpies take us. Woe! woe! What misfortune!”
To which plaint the others only smiled horribly and ground their teeth.