“But the coming of Mardonius to Greece?” questioned the younger man; “the peril he runs? the risk of discovery—”
“Is all but nothing, except as he comes to Athens, for Medizers will shelter him everywhere. Yet there is one spot—blessed be Athena—” Themistocles’s hands went up in easy piety—“where, let him come if come he dare!” Then with a swift change, as was his wont, the statesman looked straight on Democrates.
“Hark you, son of Myscelus; those Persian lords are reckless. He may even test the fates and set foot in Attica. I am cumbered with as many cares as Zeus, but this com[pg 60]mission I give to you. You are my most trusted lieutenant; I can risk no other. Keep watch, hire spies, scatter bribe-money. Rest not day nor night to find if Mardonius the Persian enters Athens. Once in our clutches—and you have done Hellas as fair a turn as Miltiades at Marathon. You promise it? Give me your hand.”
“A great task,” spoke Democrates, none too readily.
“And one you are worthy to accomplish. Are we not co-workers for Athens and for Hellas?”
Themistocles’s hawklike eyes were unescapable. The younger Athenian thought they were reading his soul. He held out his hand....
When Democrates returned to the hall, Cimon had ended his song. The guests were applauding furiously. Wine was still going round, but Glaucon and Hermione were not joining. Across the table they were conversing in low sentences that Democrates could not catch. But he knew well enough the meaning as each face flashed back the beauty of the other. And his mind wandered back darkly to the day when Glaucon had come to him, more radiant than even his wont, and cried, “Give me joy, dear comrade, joy! Hermippus has promised me the fairest maiden in Athens.” Some evil god had made Democrates blind to all his boon-companion’s wooing. How many hopes of the orator that day had been shattered! Yet he had even professed to rejoice with the son of Conon.... He sat in sombre silence, until the piping voice of Simonides awakened him.
“Friend, if you are a fool, you do a wise thing in keeping still; if a wise man, a very foolish thing.”
“Wine, boy,” ordered Democrates; “and less water in it. I feel wretchedly stupid to-day.”
He spent the rest of the feast drinking deeply, and with much forced laughter. The dinner ended toward evening. [pg 61]The whole company escorted the victor toward Athens. At Daphni, the pass over the hills, the archons and strategi—highest officials of the state—met them with cavalry and torches and half of the city trailing at their heels. Twenty cubits of the city wall were pulled down to make a gate for the triumphal entry. There was another great feast at the government house. The purse of an hundred drachmæ, due by law to Isthmian victors, was presented. A street was named for Glaucon in the new port-town of Peiræus. Simonides recited a triumphal ode. All Athens, in short, made merry for days. Only one man found it hard to join the mirth whole-heartedly. And this was the victor’s bosom friend,—Democrates.