A Victor of Salamis

by William Stearns Davis

  CHAPTER XL

  THE SONG OF THE FURIES

  Themistocles had started from Oropus with Simonides, a small guard ofmariners, and a fettered prisoner, as soon as the _Nausicaae's_ people werea little rested. Half the night they themselves were plodding on wearily.At Tanagra the following afternoon a runner with a palm branch met them.

  "Mardonius is slain. Artabazus with the rear-guard has fled northward. TheAthenians aided by the Spartans stormed the camp. Glory to Athena, whogives us victory!"

  "And the traitors?" Themistocles showed surprisingly little joy.

  "Lycon's body was found drifting in the Asopus. Democrates lies fetteredby Aristeides's tents."

  Then the other Athenians broke forth into paeans, but Themistocles bowedhis head and was still, though the messenger told how Pausanias and hisallies had taken countless treasure, and now were making ready to attackdisloyal Thebes. So the admiral and his escort went at leisure acrossBoeotia, till they reached the Hellenic host still camped near thebattle-field. There Themistocles was long in conference with Aristeidesand Pausanias. After midnight he left Aristeides's tent.

  "Where is the prisoner?" he asked of the sentinel before the headquarters.

  "Your Excellency means the traitor?"

  "I do."

  "I will guide you." The soldier took a torch and led the way. The two wentdown dark avenues of tents, and halted at one where five hoplites stoodguard with their spears ready, five more slept before the entrance.

  "We watch him closely, _kyrie_," explained the decarch, saluting."Naturally we fear suicide as well as escape. Two more are within thetent."

  "Withdraw them. Do you all stand at distance. For what happens I will beresponsible."

  The two guards inside emerged yawning. Themistocles took the torch andentered the squalid hair-cloth pavilion. The sentries noticed he had acasket under his cloak.

  "The prisoner sleeps," said a hoplite, "in spite of his fetters."

  Themistocles set down the casket and carefully drew the tent-flap. Withsilent tread he approached the slumberer. The face was upturned; white itwas, but it showed the same winsome features that had won the clappings ahundred times in the Pnyx. The sleep seemed heavy, dreamless.

  Themistocles's own lips tightened as he stood in contemplation, then hebent to touch the other's shoulder.

  "Democrates,"--no answer. "Democrates,"--still silence. "Democrates,"--astirring, a clanking of metal. The eyes opened,--for one instant a smile.

  "_Ei_, Themistocles, it is you?" to be succeeded by a flash of unspeakablehorror. "O Zeus, the gyves! That I should come to this!"

  The prisoner rose to a sitting posture upon his truss of straw. Hisfettered hands seized his head.

  "Peace," ordered the admiral, gently. "Do not rave. I have sent thesentries away. No one will hear us."

  Democrates grew calmer. "You are merciful. You do not know how I wastempted. You will save me."

  "I will do all I can." Themistocles's voice was solemn as an aeolian harp,but the prisoner caught at everything eagerly.

  "Ah, you can do so much. Pausanias fought the battle, but they call youthe true saviour of Hellas. They will do anything you say."

  "I am glad." Themistocles's face was impenetrable as the sphinx's.Democrates seized the admiral's red chlamys with his fettered hands.

  "You will save me! I will fly to Sicily, Carthage, the Tin Isles, as youwish. Have you forgotten our old-time friendship?"

  "I loved you," spoke the admiral, tremulously.

  "Ah, recall that love to-night!"

  "I do."

  "O piteous Zeus, why then is your face so awful? If you will aid me toescape--"

  "I will aid you."

  "Blessings, blessings, but quick! I fear to be stoned to death by thesoldiers in the morning. They threaten to crucify--"

  "They shall not."

  "Blessings, blessings,--can I escape to-night?"

  "Yes," but Themistocles's tone made the prisoner's blood run chill. Hecowered helplessly. The admiral stood, his own fine face covered with amingling of pity, contempt, pain.

  "Democrates, hearken,"--his voice was hard as flint. "We have seized yourcamp chest, found the key to your ciphers, and know all yourcorrespondence with Lycon. We have discovered your fearful power offorgery. Hermes the Trickster gave it you for your own destruction. Wehave brought Hiram hither from the ship. This night he has ridden the'Little Horse.'(17) He has howled out everything. We have seized Bias andheard his story. There is nothing to conceal. From the beginning of yourpeculation of the public money, till the moment when, the prisoners say,you were in Mardonius's camp, all is known to us. You need not confess.There is nothing worth confessing."

  "I am glad,"--great beads were on the prisoner's brow,--"but you do notrealize the temptation. Have you never yourself been betwixt Scylla andCharybdis? Have I not vowed every false step should be the last? I foughtagainst Lycon. I fought against Mardonius. They were too strong. Athenaknoweth I did not crave the tyranny of Athens! It was not that which droveme to betray Hellas."

  "I believe you. But why did you not trust me at the first?"

  "I hardly understand."

  "When first your need of money drove you to crime, why did you not come tome? You knew I loved you. You knew I looked on you as my political son andheir in the great work of making Athens the light of Hellas. I would havegiven you the gold,--yes, fifty talents."

  "_Ai, ai_, if I had only dared! I thought of it. I was afraid."

  "Right." Themistocles's lip was curling. "You are more coward than knaveor traitor. Phobos, Black Fear, has been your leading god, not Hermes. Andnow--"

  "But you have promised I shall escape."

  "You shall."

  "To-night? What is that you have?" Themistocles was opening the casket.

  "The papers seized in your chest. They implicate many noble Hellenes inCorinth, Sicyon, Sparta. Behold--" Themistocles held one papyrus afteranother in the torch-flame,--"here is crumbling to ashes the evidence thatwould destroy them all as Medizers. Mardonius is dead. Let the war diewith him. Hellas is safe."

  "Blessings, blessings! Help me to escape. You have a sword. Pry off thesegyves. How easy for you to let me fly!"

  "Wait!" The admiral's peremptory voice silenced the prisoner. Themistoclesfinished his task. Suddenly, however, Democrates howled with animal fear.

  "What are you taking now--a goblet?"

  "Wait." Themistocles was indeed holding a silver cup and flask. "Have Inot said you should escape this captivity--to-night?"

  "Be quick, then, the night wanes fast."

  The admiral strode over beside the creature who plucked at his hem.

  "Give ear again, Democrates. Your crimes against Athens and Hellas werewrought under sore temptation. The money you stole from the public chest,if not returned already, I will myself make good. So much is forgiven."

  "You are a true friend, Themistocles." The prisoner's voice was husky, butthe admiral's eyes flashed like flint-stones struck by the steel.

  "Friend!" he echoed. "Yes, by Zeus Orcios, guardian of oaths andfriendship, you had a friend. Where is he now?"

  Democrates lay on the turf floor of the tent, not even groaning.

  "You had a friend,"--the admiral's intensity was awful. "You blasted hisgood name, you sought his life, you sought his wife, you broke every bond,human or divine, to destroy him. At last, to silence conscience' sting,you thought you did a deed of mercy in sending him in captivity to a deathin life. Fool! Nemesis is not mocked. Glaucon has lain at death's door. Hehas saved Hellas, but at a price. The surgeons say he will live, but thathis foot is crippled. Glaucon can never run again. You have brought himmisery. You have brought anguish to Hermione, the noblest woman in Hellas,whom you--ah! mockery--professed to hold in love! You have done worse thanmurder. Yet I have promised you shall escape this night. Rise up."

  Democrates staggered to his feet clumsily, only half knowing what he
did.Themistocles was extending the silver cup. "Escape. Drink!"

  "What is this cup?" The prisoner had turned gray.

  "Hemlock, coward! Did you not bid Glaucon to take his life that night inColonus? The death you proffered him in his innocency I proffer you now inyour guilt. Drink!"

  "You have called me friend. You have said you loved me. I dare not die. Alittle time! Pity! Mercy! What god can I invoke?"

  "None. Cerberus himself would not hearken to such as you. Drink."

  "Pity, by our old-time friendship!"

  The admiral's tall form straightened.

  "Themistocles the Friend is dead; Themistocles the Just is here,--drink."

  "But you promised escape?" The prisoner's whisper was just audible.

  "Ay, truly, from the court-martial before the roaring camp in the morning,the unmasking of all your accomplices, the deeper shame of every one-timefriend, the blazoning of your infamy in public evidence through Hellas,the soldiers howling for your blood, the stoning, perchance the pluckingin pieces. By the gods Olympian, by the gods Infernal, do your past loversone last service--drink!"

  That was not all Themistocles said, that was all Democrates heard. In hisears sounded, even once again, the song of the Furies,--never so clearly asnow.

  "With scourge and with ban We prostrate the man Who with smooth-woven wile And a fair-faced smile Hath planted a snare for his friend! Though fleet, we shall find him, Though strong, we shall bind him, Who planted a snare for his friend!"

  Nemesis--Nemesis, the implacable goddess, had come for her own at last.

  Democrates took the cup.