A Victor of Salamis Part 22

"He's hardly drunken," observed her husband, peering through the lattice in the door, "but sick rather. Don't detain me, _philotata_,"-Lampaxo's skinny hand had tried to restrain. "I'll not let even a dog suffer."

"You'll be ruined by too much charity," bewailed the woman, but Bias followed the fishmonger into the night. The moon shone down the narrow street, falling over the stranger who half lay, half squatted by the Hermes. When the two approached him, he tried to stagger to his feet, then reeled, and Phormio's strong arms seized him. The man resisted feebly, and seemed never to hear the fishmonger's friendly questions.

"I am innocent. Do not arrest me. Help me to the temple of Hephaestos, where there's asylum for fugitives. Ah! Hermione, that I should bring you this!"

Bias leaped back as the moonlight glanced over the face of the stranger.

"Master Glaucon, half naked and mad! _Ai!_ woe!"

"Glaucon the Alcmaeonid," echoed Phormio, in amazement, and the other still struggled to escape.

"Do you not hear? I am innocent. I never visited the Persian spy. I never betrayed the fleet. By what G.o.d can I swear it, that you may believe?"

Phormio was a man to recover from surprise quickly, and act swiftly and to the purpose. He made haste to lead his unfortunate visitor inside and lay him on his one hard couch. Scarcely was this done, however, when Lampaxo ran up to Glaucon in mingled rage and exultation.

"Phormio doesn't know what Polus and I told Democrates, or what he told us! So you thought to escape, you white-skinned traitor? But we've watched you. We know how you went to the Babylonian. We know your guilt. And now the good G.o.ds have stricken you mad and delivered you to justice." She waved her bony fists in the prostrate man's face. "Run, Phormio! don't stand gaping like a magpie. Run, I say-"

"Whither? For a physician?"

"To Areopagus, fool! There's where the constables have their camp. Bring ten men with fetters. He's strong and desperate. Bias and I will wait and guard him. If you stir, traitor,-" she was holding a heavy meat-knife at the fugitive's throat,-"I'll slit your weasand like a chicken."

But for once in his life Phormio defied his tyrant effectively. With one hand he tore the weapon from her clutch, the other closed her screaming mouth.

"Are you mad yourself? Will you rouse the neighbourhood? I don't know what you and Polus tattled about to Democrates. I don't greatly care. As for going for constables to seize Glaucon the Fortunate-"

"Fortunate!" echoed the miserable youth, rising on one elbow, "say it never again. The G.o.ds have blasted me with one great blow. And you-you are Phormio, husband and brother-in-law of those who have sworn against me,-you are the slave of Democrates my destroyer,-and you, woman,-Zeus soften you!-already clamour for my worthless life, as all Athens does to-morrow!"

Lampaxo suddenly subsided. Resistance from her spouse was so unexpected she lost at once arguments and breath. Phormio continued to act promptly; taking a treasured bottle from a cupboard he filled a mug and pressed it to the newcomer's lips. The fiery liquor sent the colour back into Glaucon's face. He raised himself higher-strength and mind in a measure returned. Bias had whispered to Phormio rapidly. Perhaps he had guessed more of his master's doings than he had dared to hint before.

"Hark you, Master Glaucon," began Phormio, not unkindly. "You are with friends, and never heed my wife. She's not so steely hearted as she seems."

"Seize the traitor," interjected Lampaxo, with a gasp.

"Tell your story. I'm a plain and simple man, who won't believe a gentleman with your fair looks, fame, and fortune has p.a.w.ned them all in a night. Bias has sense. First tell how you came to wander down this way."

Glaucon sat upright, his hands pressing against his forehead.

"How can I tell? I have run to and fro, seeing yet not seeing whither I went. I know I pa.s.sed the Acharnican gate, and the watch stared at me.

Doubtless I ran hither because here they said the Babylonian lived, and he has been ever in my head. I shudder to go over the scene at Colonus. I wish I were dead. Then I could forget it!"

"Constables-fetters!" howled Lampaxo, as a direful interlude, to be silenced by an angry gesture from her helpmeet.

"Nevertheless, try to tell what you can," spoke Phormio, mildly, and Glaucon, with what power he had, complied. Broken, faltering, scarce coherent often, his story came at last. He sat silent while Phormio clutched his own head. Then Glaucon darted around wild and hopeless eyes.

"_Ai!_ you believe me guilty. I almost believe so myself. All my best friends have cast me off. Democrates, my friend from youth, has wrought my ruin. My wife I shall never see again. I am resolved-" He rose. A desperate purpose made his feet steady.

"What will you do?" demanded Phormio, perplexed.

"One thing is left. I am sure to be arrested at dawn if not before. I will go to the 'City-House,' the public prison, and give myself up. The ignominy will soon end. Then welcome the Styx, Hades, the never ending night-better than this shame!"

He started forth, but Phormio's hand restrained him. "Not so fast, lad!

Thank Olympus, I'm not Lampaxo. You're too young a turbot for Charon's fish-net. Let me think a moment."

The fishmonger stood scratching his thin hairs. Another howl from Lampaxo decided him.

"Are you a traitor, too? Away with the wretch to prison!"

"I'm resolved," cried Phormio, striking his thigh. "Only an honest man could get such hatred from my wife. If they've not tracked you yet, they're not likely to find you before morning. My cousin Brasidas is master of the _Solon_, and owes a good turn-"

Quick strides took him to a chest. He dragged forth a sleeveless sailor's cloak of hair-cloth. To fling this over Glaucon's rent chiton took an instant, another instant to clap on the fugitive's head a brimless red cap.

"_Euge!_-you grow transformed. But that white face of yours is dangerous.

See!" he rubbed over the Alcmaeonid's face two handfuls of black ashes s.n.a.t.c.hed from the hearth and sprang back with a great laugh, "you're a sailor unlading charcoal now. Zeus himself would believe it. All is ready-"

"For prison?" asked Glaucon, clearly understanding little.

"For the sea, my lad. For Athens is no place for you to-morrow, and Brasidas sails at dawn. Some more wine? It's a long, brisk walk."

"To the havens? You trust me? You doubt the accusation which every friend save Hermione believes? O pure Athena-and this is possible!" Again Glaucon's head whirled. It took more of the fiery wine to stay him up.

"Ay, boy," comforted Phormio, very gruff, "you shall walk again around Athens with a bold, brave face, though not to-morrow, I fear. Polus trusts his heart and not his head in voting 'guilty,' so I trust it voting 'innocent.' "

"I warn you," Glaucon spoke rapidly, "I've no claim on your friends.h.i.+p. If your part in this is discovered, you know our juries."

"That I know," laughed Phormio, grimly, "for I know dear Polus. So now my own cloak and we are off."

But Lampaxo, who had watched everything with acc.u.mulating anger, now burst loose. She bounded to the door.

"Constables! Help! Athens is betrayed!"

She bawled that much through the lattice before her husband and Bias dragged her back. Fortunately the street was empty.

"That I should see this! My own husband betraying the city! Aiding a traitor!" Then she began whimpering through her nose. "_Mu! mu!_ leave the villain to his fate. Think of me if not of your own safety. Woe! when was a woman more misused?"

But here her lament ended, for Phormio, with the firmness of a man thoroughly determined, thrust a rag into her mouth and with Bias's help bound her down upon the couch by means of a convenient fish-cord.

"I am grieved to stop your singing, blessed dear," spoke the fishmonger, indulging in a rare outburst of sarcasm against his formidable helpmeet, "but we play a game with Fate to-night a little too even to allow unfair chances. Bias will watch you until I return, and then I can discover, _philotata_, whether your love for Athens is so great you must go to the Archon to denounce your husband."

The Thracian promised to do his part. His affection for Democrates was clearly not the warmest. Lampaxo's farewell, as Phormio guided his half-dazed companion into the street, was a futile struggle and a choking.

The ways were empty and silent. Glaucon allowed himself to be led by the hand and did not speak. He hardly knew how or whither Phormio was taking him. Their road lay along the southern side of the Acropolis, past the tall columns of the unfinished Temple of Zeus, which reared to giant height in the white moonlight. This, as well as the overshadowing Rock itself, they left behind without incident. Phormio chose devious alleys, and they met neither Scythian constables nor bands of roisterers. Only once the two pa.s.sed a house bright with lamps. Jovial guests celebrated a late wedding feast. Clearly the two heard the marriage hymn of Sappho.

"The bridegroom comes tall as Ares, Ho, Hymenaeus!

Taller than a mighty man, Ho, Hymenaeus!"

Glaucon stopped like one struck with an arrow.

"They sang that song the night I wedded Hermione. Oh, if I could drink the Lethe water and forget!"