A Victor of Salamis Part 45

b.u.mp-b.u.mp, the oars played their monotonous music on the thole-pins.

Sicinnus stirred on his seat. He was peering northward anxiously, and Glaucon knew what he was seeking. Through the void of the night their straining eyes saw ma.s.ses gliding across the face of the water. Ariabignes was making his promise good. Yonder the Egyptian fleet were swinging forth to close the last retreat of the h.e.l.lenes. Thus on the north, and southward, too, other triremes were thrusting out, bearing-both watchers wisely guessed-a force to disembark on Psyttaleia, the islet betwixt Salamis and the main, a vantage-point in the coming battle.

The coming battle? It was so silent, ghostlike, far away, imagination scarce could picture it. Was this black slumberous water to be the scene at dawn of a combat beside which that of Hector and Achilles under Troy would be only as a tale that is told? And was he, Glaucon, son of Conon the Alcmaeonid, sitting there in the skiff alone with Sicinnus, to have a part therein, in a battle the fame whereof should ring through the ages?

b.u.mp, b.u.mp-still the monologue of the oars. A fish near by leaped from the water, splas.h.i.+ng loudly. Then for an instant the clouds broke. Selene uncovered her face. The silvery flash quickly come, more quickly flying, showed him the headlands of that Attica now in Xerxes's hands. He saw Pentelicus and Hymettus, Parnes and Cithaeron, the hills he had wandered over in glad boyhood, the hills where rested his ancestors' dust. It was no dream. He felt his warm blood quicken. He felt the round-bowed skiff spring over the waves, as with unwearied hands he tugged at the oar. There are moments when the dullest mind grows prophetic, and the mind of the Athenian was not dull. The moonlight had vanished. In its place through the magic darkness seemed gathering all the heroes of his people beckoning him and his compeers onward. Perseus was there, and Theseus and Erechtheus, Heracles the Mighty, and Odysseus the Patient, whose intellect Themistocles possessed, Solon the Wise, Periander the Crafty, Diomedes the Undaunted, men of reality, men of fable, sages, warriors, demiG.o.ds, crowding together, speaking one message: "Be strong, for the heritage of what you do this coming day shall be pa.s.sed beyond children's children, shall be pa.s.sed down to peoples to whom the tongue, the G.o.ds, yea, the name of h.e.l.las, are but as a dream."

Glaucon felt the weariness fly from him. He was refreshed as never by wine. Then through the void in place of the band of heroes slowly outspread the tracery of a vessel at anchor,-the outermost guards.h.i.+p of the fleet of the h.e.l.lenes. They were again amongst friends. The watcher on the trireme was keeping himself awake after the manner of sentries by singing. In the night-stillness the catch from Archilochus rang l.u.s.tily.

"By my spear I have won my bread, By spear won my clear, red wine, On my spear I will lean and drink,- Show me a merrier life than is mine!"

The trolling called Glaucon back to reality. Guided by Sicinnus, who knew the stations of the Greek fleet better than he, a second time they came beside the Spartan admiral. The lamps were still burning in the stern-cabin. Even before they were alongside, they caught the clamours of fierce debate.

"Still arguing?" quoth Sicinnus to the yawning marine officer who advanced to greet them as they reached the top of the ladder.

"Still arguing," grunted the Spartan. "I think your master has dragged forth all his old arguments and invented a thousand new ones. He talks continuously, as if battling for time, though only Castor knows wherefore.

There's surely a majority against him."

The emissary descended the companionway, Themistocles leaped up from his seat in the crowded council. A few whispers, the Asiatic returned to Glaucon on the deck. The two gazed down the companionway, observing everything. They had not long to wait.

CHAPTER XXVIII

BEFORE THE DEATH GRAPPLE

For the fourth time the subaltern who stood at Eurybiades's elbow turned the water-gla.s.s that marked the pa.s.sing of the hours. The lamps in the low-ceiled cabin were flickering dimly. Men glared on one another across the narrow table with drawn and heated faces. Adeimantus of Corinth was rising to reply to the last appeal of the Athenian.

"We have had enough, Eurybiades, of Themistocles's wordy folly. Because the Athenian admiral is resolved to lead all h.e.l.las to destruction, is no reason that we should follow. As for his threat that he will desert us with his s.h.i.+ps if we refuse to fight, I fling it in his face that he dare not make it good. Why go all over the well-threshed straw again? Is not the fleet of the king overwhelming? Were we not saved by a miracle from overthrow at Artemisium? Do not the scouts tell us the Persians are advancing beyond Eleusis toward Megara and the Isthmus? Is not our best fighting blood here in the fleet? Then if the Isthmus is threatened, our business is to defend it and save the Peloponnesus, the last remnant of h.e.l.las unconquered. Now then, headstrong son of Neocles, answer that!"

The Corinthian, a tall domineering man, threw back his shoulders like a boxer awaiting battle. Themistocles did not answer, but only smiled up at him from his seat opposite.

"I have silenced you, grinning babbler, at last," thundered Adeimantus, "and I demand of you, O Eurybiades, that we end this tedious debate. If we are to retreat, let us retreat. A vote, I say, a vote!"

Eurybiades rose at the head of the table. He was a heavy, florid individual with more than the average Spartan's slowness of tongue and intellect. Physically he was no coward, but he dreaded responsibility.

"Much has been said," he announced ponderously, "many opinions offered. It would seem the majority of the council favour the decision to retire forthwith. Has Themistocles anything more to say why the vote should not be taken?"

"Nothing," rejoined the Athenian, with an equanimity that made Adeimantus snap his teeth.

"We will therefore take the vote city by city," went on Eurybiades. "Do you, Phlegon of Seriphos, give your vote."

Seriphos-wretched islet-sent only one s.h.i.+p, but thanks to the Greek mania for "equality" Phlegon's vote had equal weight with that of Themistocles.

"Salamis is not defensible," announced the Seriphian, shortly. "Retreat."

"And you, Charmides of Melos?"

"Retreat."

"And you, Phoibodas of Trzene?"

"Retreat, by all the G.o.ds."

"And you, Hippocrates of aegina?"

"Stay and fight. If you go back to the Isthmus, aegina must be abandoned to the Barbarians. I am with Themistocles."

"Record his vote," shouted Adeimantus, ill-naturedly, "he is but one against twenty. But I warn you, Eurybiades, do not call for Themistocles's vote, or the rest of us will be angry. The man whose city is under the power of the Barbarian has no vote in this council, however much we condescend to listen to his chatterings."

The Athenian sprang from his seat, his aspect as threatening as Apollo descending Olympus in wrath.

"Where is my country, Adeimantus? Yonder!" he pointed out the open port-hole, "there rides the array of our Athenian s.h.i.+ps. What other state in h.e.l.las sends so many and sets better men within them? Athens still lives, though her Acropolis be wrapped in flames. 'Strong-hearted men and naught else are warp and woof of a city.' Do you forget Alcaeus's word so soon, O Boaster from Corinth? Yes, by Athena Promachos, Mistress of Battles, while those nine score s.h.i.+ps ride on the deep, I have a city fairer, braver, than yours. And will you still deny me equal voice and vote with this n.o.ble trierarch from Siphinos with his one, or with his comrade from Melos with his twain?"

Themistocles's voice rang like a trumpet. Adeimantus winced. Eurybiades broke in with soothing tones.

"No one intends to deny your right to vote, Themistocles. The excellent Corinthian did but jest."

"A fitting hour for jesting!" muttered the Athenian, sinking back into his seat.

"The vote, the vote!" urged the Sicyonian chief, from Adeimantus's elbow, and the voting went on. Of more than twenty voices only three-Themistocles's and those of the aeginetan and Megarian admirals-were in favour of abiding the onset. Yet even when Eurybiades arose to announce the decision, the son of Neocles sat with his hands sprawling on the table, his face set in an inscrutable smile as he looked on Adeimantus.

"It is the plain opinion,"-Eurybiades hemmed and hawed with his words,-"the plain opinion, I say, of this council that the allied fleet retire at once to the Isthmus. Therefore, I, as admiral-in-chief, do order each commander to proceed to his own flag-s.h.i.+p and prepare his triremes to retire at dawn."

"Well said," shouted Adeimantus, already on his feet; "now to obey."

But with him rose Themistocles. He stood tall and calm, his thumbs thrust in his girdle. His smile was a little broader, his head held a little higher, than of wont.

"Good Eurybiades, I grieve to blast the wisdom of all these valiant gentlemen, but they cannot retire if they wish."

"Explain!" a dozen shouted.

"Very simply. I have had good reason to know that the king has moved forward the western horn of his fleet, so as to enclose our anchorage at Salamis. It is impossible to retire save through the Persian line of battle."

Perseus upholding the Gorgon's head before Polydectes's guests and turning them to stone wrought hardly more of a miracle than this calm announcement of Themistocles. Men stared at him vacantly, stunned by the tidings, then Adeimantus's frightened wrath broke loose.

"Fox!(10) Was this your doing?"

"I did not ask you to thank me, _philotate_," was the easy answer. "It is, however, urgent to consider whether you wish to be taken unresisting in the morning."

The Corinthian shook his fist across the table.

"Liar, as a last device to ruin us, you invent this folly."

"It is easy to see if I lie," rejoined Themistocles; "send out a pinnace and note where the Persians anchor. It will not take long."

For an instant swords seemed about to leap from their scabbards, and the enraged Peloponnesians to sheathe them in the Athenian's breast. He stood unflinching, smiling, while a volley of curses flew over him. Then an orderly summoned him on deck, while Adeimantus and his fellows foamed and contended below. Under the battle lantern Themistocles saw a man who was his elder in years, rugged in feature, with ma.s.sive forehead and wise gray eyes. This was Aristeides the Just, the admiral's enemy, but their feud had died when Xerxes drew near to Athens.