“Do so. The matter grows serious.”
Themistocles caught sight of one of the archons and hastened across the Agora to have a word with him. Democrates passed his hand across his forehead, beaded with sudden sweat-drops. He knew—though Themistocles had said not a word—that his superior was beginning to distrust his efforts, and that Sicinnus was working independently. Democrates had great respect for the acuteness of that Asiatic. He was coming perilously near the truth already. If the Cyprian and Hiram were arrested, the latter at least would surely try to save his life by betraying their nocturnal visitor. To get the spy safely out of Athens would be the first step,—but not all. Sicinnus once upon the scent would not readily drop it until he had discovered the emissary’s confederate. And of the fate of that confederate Themistocles had just given a grim hint. There was [pg 108]one other solution possible. If Democrates could discover the confederate himself, Sicinnus would regard the matter as cleared up and drop all interest therein. All these possibilities raced through the orator’s head, as does the past through one drowning. A sudden greeting startled him.
“A fair morning, Democrates.” It was Glaucon. He walked arm-in-arm with Cimon.
“A fair morning, indeed. Where are you going?”
“To the Peiræus to inspect the new tackling of the Nausicaä. You will join us?”
“Unfortunately I argue a case before the King Archon.”
“Be as eloquent as in your last speech. Do you know, Cimon declares I am disloyal too, and that you will soon be prosecuting me?”
“Avert it, gods! What do you mean?”
“Why, he is sending a letter to Argos,” asserted Cimon. “Now I say Argos has Medized, therefore no good Hellene should correspond with a traitorous Argive.”
“Be jury on my treachery,” commanded Glaucon. “Ageladas the master-sculptor sends me a bronze Perseus in honour of my victory. Shall I churlishly send him no thanks because he lives in Argos?”