CHAPTER XXXIV
THE LOYALTY OF LAMPAXO
The night after his adventure on the hill slope Democrates received in hischambers no less an individual than Hiram. That industrious Phoenician hadbeen several days in Troezene, occupied in a manner he and his superiordiscreetly kept to themselves. The orator had a bandage above one eye,where a heavy sandal had kicked him. He was exceedingly pale, and sat inthe arm-chair propped with pillows. That he had awaited Hiram eagerly,betrayed itself by the promptness with which he cut short the inevitablesalaam.
"Well, my dear rascal, have you found him?"
"May it please your Excellency to hearken to even the least of yourslaves?"
"Do you hear, fox?--have you found him?"
"My Lord shall judge for himself."
"Cerberus eat you, fellow,--though you'd be a poisonous mouthful,--tell yourstory in as few words as possible. I _know_ that he is lurking aboutTroezene."
"Compassion, your Lordship, compassion,"--Hiram seemed washing his hands inoil, they waved so soothingly--"if your Benignity will grant it, I have avery worthy woman here who, I think, can tell a story that will beinteresting."
"In with her, then."
The person Hiram escorted into the room proved to be no more nor less thanLampaxo. Two years had not removed the wrinkles from her cheek, thesharpness from her nose, the rasping from her tongue. At sight of herDemocrates half rose from his seat and held out his hand affably, thedemagogue's instinct uppermost.
"Ah! my good dame, whom do I recognize? Are you not the wife of ourexcellent fishmonger, Phormio? A truly sterling man, and how, pray, isyour good husband?"
"Poorly, poorly, _kyrie_." Lampaxo looked down and fumbled her dirtychiton. Such condescension on the part of a magnate barely less thanThemistocles or Aristeides was overpowering.
"Poorly? I grieve to learn it. I was informed that he was comfortablysettled here until it was safe to return to Attica, and had even opened aprosperous stall in the market-place."
"Of course, _kyrie_; and the trade, considering the times, is not sobad--Athena be praised--and he's not sick in body. It's worse, far worse. Iwas even on the point of going to your Lordship to state my misgivings,when your good friend, the Phoenician, fell into my company, and I found hewas searching for the very thing I wanted to reveal."
"Ah!" Democrates leaned forward and battled against his impatience,--"andwhat is the matter wherein I can be of service to so deserving a citizenas your husband?"
"I fear me,"--Lampaxo put her apron dutifully to her face and began tosniff,--"your Excellency won't call him 'deserving' any more. Hellas knowsyour Excellency is patriotism itself. The fact is Phormio has 'Medized.' "
"Medized!" The orator started as became an actor. "Gods and goddesses!what trust is in men if Phormio the Athenian has Medized?"
"Hear my story, _mu! mu!_" groaned Lampaxo. "It's a terrible thing toaccuse one's own husband, but duty to Hellas is duty. Your Excellency is amerciful man, if he could only warn Phormio in private."
"Woman,"--Democrates pulled his most consequential frown,--"Medizing istreason. On your duty as a daughter of Athens I charge you telleverything, then rely on my wisdom."
"Certainly, _kyrie_, certainly," gasped Lampaxo, and so she began arecital mingled with many moans and protestations, which Democrates darednot bid her hasten.
The good woman commenced by reminding the strategus how he had visited herand her brother Polus to question them as to the doings of the Babylonishcarpet merchant, and how it had seemed plain to them that Glaucon wasnothing less than a traitor. Next she proceeded to relate how her husbandhad enabled the criminal to fly by sea, and her own part therein--for sheloudly accused herself of treason in possessing a guilty knowledge of theoutlaw's manner of escape. As for Bias, he had just now gone on a messageto Megara, but Democrates would surely castigate his own slave. "Still,"wound up Lampaxo, "the traitor seemed drowned, and his treason locked upin Phorcys's strong box, and so I said nothing about him. More's thepity."
"The more reason for concealing nothing now."
"Zeus strike me if I keep back anything. It's now about ten days since_he_ returned."
" 'He?' Whom do you mean?"
"It's not overeasy to tell, _kyrie_. He calls himself Critias, and wears along black beard and tangled hair. Phormio brought him home oneevening--said he was the _proreus_ of a Melian trireme caulking atEpidaurus, but was once in the fish trade at Peiraeus and an old friend. Itold Phormio we had enough these days to fill our own bellies, but myhusband would be hospitable. I had to bring out my best honey cakes. YourLordship knows I take just pride in my honey cakes."
"Beyond doubt,"--Democrates's hand twitched with impatience,--"but tell ofthe stranger."
"At once, _kyrie_; well, we all sat down to sup. Phormio kept pressingwine on the fellow as if we had not only one little jar of yellow Rhodianin the cellar. All the time the sailor barely spoke a few words of islandDoric, but my heart misgave. He seemed so refined, so handsome. And nearthe roots of his hair it was not so dark--as if dyed and needing renewal.Trust a woman's eyes for that. When supper was over Phormio orders me, 'Upthe ladder and to bed. I'll come shortly, but leave a blanket and pillowfor our friend who sleeps on the hearth.' Your Excellency knows we hired alittle house on the 'Carpenter's Street,' very reasonably you willgrant--only half a minae for the winter. I gave the stranger a fine pillowand a blanket embroidered by Stephanium, she was my great-aunt, and leftit to me by will, and the beautiful red wool was from Byzantium--"
"But you spoke of Critias?" Democrates could scarce keep upon his seat.
"Yes, _kyrie_. Well, I warned Phormio not to give him any more wine. ThenI went up the ladder. O Mother Demeter, how sharply I listened, but therascals spoke too low together for me to catch anything, save that Critiashad dropped his Doric and spoke good Attic now. At last Phormio came up tome, and I pretended to snore. In the morning, lo! the scoundrelly strangerhad slipped away. In the evening he returns late. Phormio harbours himagain. So for several nights, coming late, going early. Then to-night hecomes a bit before his wont. He and Phormio drank more than common. AfterPhormio sent me away, they talked a long time and in louder voice."
"You overheard?" Democrates gripped his arm-chair.
"Yes, _kyrie_, blessed be Athena! The stranger spoke pure Attic such asyour Excellency might use. Many times I heard Hermione named, and yourselfonce--"
"And how?"
"The stranger said: 'So she will not wed Democrates. She loathes him.Aphrodite shed joy on her forever.' Then Phormio answered him, 'Therefore,dear Glaucon, you should trust the gods a little longer.' "
" 'Glaucon,' said he?" Democrates leaped from the chair.
" 'Glaucon,' on my oath by the Styx. Then I covered my head and wept. Iknew my husband harboured the arch-traitor. Heaven can tell how he escapedthe sea. As soon as Phormio was sleeping snug beside me, I went down theladder, intending to call the watch. In the street I met a man, this goodPhoenician here,--he explained he was suspecting this 'Critias' himself, andlurked about in hopes of tracing him in the morning. I told my story. Hesaid it was best to come straight to you. And now I have accused my ownhusband, Excellency. _Ai!_ was wife ever harder beset? Phormio is a kindlyand commonly obedient man, even if he doesn't know the value of an obol.You will be merciful--"
"Peace," commanded Democrates, with portentous gravity, "justice first,mercy later. Do you solemnly swear you heard Phormio call this stranger'Glaucon'?"
"Yes, _kyrie_. Woe! woe!"
"And you say he is now asleep in your house?"
"Yes, the wine has made them both very heavy."
"You have done well." Democrates extended his hand again. "You are aworthy daughter of Athens. In years to come they will name you with KingCodrus who sacrificed his life for the freedom of Attica, for have you notsacrificed what should be dearer than life,--the fair name of your husband?But courage. Your patriotism may extenuate his crime. Onl
y the traitormust be taken."
"Yes, he was breathing hard when I went out. Ah! seize him quickly."
"Retire," commanded Democrates, with a flourish; "leave me to concert withthis excellent Hiram the means of thwarting I know not what grossvillany."
The door had hardly closed behind Lampaxo, when Democrates fell as a heapinto the cushions. He was ashen and palsied.
"Courage, master,"--Hiram was drawing a suggestive finger across histhroat,--"the woman's tale is true metal. Critias shall sleep snug andsweetly to-night, if perchance too soundly."
"What will you do?" shrieked the wretched man.
"The thing is marvellously simple, master. The night is not yet old.Hasdrubal and his crew of Carthaginians are here and by the grace of Baalcan serve you. This cackling hen will guide us to the house. Heaven hasput your enemy off his guard. He and Phormio will never wake to feel theirthroats cut. Then a good stone on each foot takes the corpses down in theharbour."
But Democrates dashed his hand in negation.
"No, by the infernal gods, not so! No murder. I cannot bear the curse ofthe Furies. Seize him, carry him to the ends of the earth, to hardestslavery. Let him never cross my path again. But no bloodshed--"
Hiram almost lost his never failing smile, so much he marvelled.
"But, your Lordship, the man is a giant, mighty as Melkarth.(12) Seizingwill be hard. Sheol is the safest prison."
"No." Democrates was still shaking. "His ghost came to me a thousandtimes, though yet he lived. It would hound me mad if I murdered him."
"_You_ would not murder him. Your slave is not afflicted by dreams."Hiram's smile was extremely insinuating.
"Don't quibble with words. It would be I who slew him, though I neverstruck the blow. You can seize him. Is he not asleep? Call Hasdrubal--bindGlaucon, gag him, drag him to the ship. But he must not die."
"Very good, Excellency." Hiram seldom quarrelled to no purpose with hisbetters. "Let your Lordship deign to leave this small matter to his slave.By Baal's favour Hasdrubal and six of his crew sleep on shore to-night.Let us pray they be not deep in wine. Wait for me one hour, perhaps two,and your heart and liver shall be comforted."
"Go, go! I will wait and pray to Hermes Dolios."
Hiram even now did not forget his punctilious salaam before departing.Never had he seemed more the beautiful serpent with the shining scalesthan the instant he bent gracefully at Democrates's feet, the red lightfalling on his gleaming ear and nose rings, his smooth brown skin andbeady eyes. The door turned on its pivots--closed. Democrates heard theretiring footsteps. No doubt the Phoenician was taking Lampaxo with him.The Athenian staggered across the room to his bed and flung himself on it,laughing hysterically. How absolutely his enemy was delivered into hishands! How the Morae in sending that Carthaginian ship, to do Lycon'sbusiness and his, had provided the means of ridding him of the hauntingterror! How everything conspired to aid him! He need not even killGlaucon. He would have no blood guiltiness, he need not dread Alecto andher sister Furies. He could trust Hiram and Hasdrubal to see to it thatGlaucon never returned to plague him. And Hermione? Democrates laughedagain. He was almost frightened at his own glee.
"A month, my nymph, a month, and you and your dear father, yes,Themistocles himself, will be in no state to answer me 'nay,'--thoughGlaucon come to claim you."
Thus he lay a long time, while the drip, drip from the water-clock in thecorner told how the night was passing. The lamp flickered and burnedlower. He never knew the hours to creep so slowly.
* * * * * * *
At last, a knock; Scodrus, the yawning valet, ushering in a black andbearded sailor, who crouched eastern fashion at the feet of the strategus.
"You have seized him?"
"Blessed be Moloch, Baal, and Melkarth! They have poured sleep upon myLord's enemy." The sailor's Greek was harsh and execrable. "Your servantsdid even as commanded. The woman let us in. The young man my Lord hateswas bound and gagged almost ere he could waken, likewise the fishmongerwas seized."
"Bravely done. I never forget good service. And the woman?"
"She is retained likewise. I have hastened hither to learn the furtherwill of my Lord."
Democrates arose hastily.
"My himation, staff, and shoes, boy!" he ordered. "I will go forth myself.The prisoners are still at the fishmonger's house?"
"Even so, Excellency."
"I go back with you. I must see this stranger with my own eyes. There mustbe no mistake."
Scodrus stared widely when he saw his master go out into the dark, for hisonly escort a black Carthaginian sailor with a dirk a cubit long.Democrates did not even ask for a lantern. None of the servants couldfathom their master's doings of late. He gave strappings when they askedquestions, and Bias was away.
The streets of Troezene were utterly deserted when Democrates threadedthem. There was no moon, neither he nor his companion were overcertain ofthe way. Once they missed the right turn, wandered down a blind alley, andplunged into a pile of offal awaiting the scavenger dogs. But finally theseaman stopped at a low door in a narrow street, and a triple rap made itopen. The scene was squalid. A rush-candle was burning on a table. Aroundit squatted seven men who rose and bowed as the strategus entered. In thedim flicker he could just recognize the burly shipmaster Hasdrubal andgigantic Hib, the Libyan "governor," whose ebon face betrayed itself eventhere.
"We have expected you, _kyrie_," said Hiram, who was one of the group.
"Thanks be to Hermes and to you all. I have told my guide already I willbe grateful. Where is he?"
"In the kitchen behind, your Lordship. We were singularly favoured. Hibhad the cord around his arms before he wakened. He could scarcely struggledespite his power. The fishmonger awoke before Hasdrubal could nip him.For a moment we feared his outcries would rouse the street. But again thegods blessed us. No one stirred, and we soon throttled him."
"Take the light," ordered Democrates. "Come."
Accompanied by Hiram, the orator entered the kitchen, a small square room.The white-washed ceiling was blacked around the smoke-hole, a few pots andpans lay in the corners, a few dying embers gleamed on the hearth. ButDemocrates had eyes only for two objects,--human figures tightly boundlying rigid as faggots in the further corner.
"Which is he?" asked Democrates again, stepping softly as though going todanger.
"The further one is Phormio, the nearer is my Lord's enemy. YourExcellency need not fear to draw close. He is quite secure."
"Give me the candle."
Democrates held the light high and trod gently over to the prostrate men.Hiram spoke rightly that his victim was secure. They had lashed him handand foot, using small chains in lieu of cords. A bit of wood had beenthrust into his mouth and tied with twine under the ears. Democrates stoodan instant looking down, then very deliberately knelt beside the prisonerand moved the candle closer. He could see now the face hidden half by thetangled black hair and beard and the gag--but who could doubt it?--the deepblue eye, the chiselled profile, the small, fine lips, yes, and thegodlike form visible in its comeliness despite the bands. He was gazingupon the man who two years ago had called him "bosom-friend."
The prisoner looked straight upward. The only thing he could move was hiseyes, and these followed Democrates's least motion. The orator pressed thecandle closer yet. He even put out his hand, and touched the face to brushaway the hair. A long look--and he was satisfied. No mistake was possible.Democrates arose and stood over the prisoner, then spoke aloud.
"Glaucon, I have played at dice with Fortune. I have conquered. I did notruin you willingly. There was no other way. A man must first be a friendto himself, and then friendly to others. I have cast in my lot with thePersians. It was I who wrote that letter which blasted you at Colonus.Very soon there will be a great battle fought in Boeotia. Lycon and I willmake it certain that Mardonius conquers. I am to be tyrant of Athens.Hermione shall be my wife." The workings of the prisoner's face madeDemocrates wince; from
Glaucon's throat came rattlings, his eyes wereterrible. But the other drove recklessly forward. "As for you, you passthis night out of my life. How you escaped the sea I know not and careless. Hasdrubal will take you to Carthage, and sell you into the interiorof Libya. I wish you no misery, only you go where you shall never seeHellas again. I am merciful. Your life is in my hands. But I restore it. Iam without blood guiltiness. What I have done you would have done, had youloved as I--had you been under necessity as I. Eros is a great god, butAnangke, Dame Necessity, is yet mightier. So to-night we part--farewell."
A strong spasm passed through the prisoner's frame. For a momentDemocrates thought the bonds would snap. Too strong. The orator swung onhis heel and returned to the outer room.
"The night wanes, _kyrie_," remarked Hasdrubal; "if these good people areto be taken to the ship, it must be soon."
"As you will. I do nothing more concerning them."
"Fetch down the woman," ordered Hasdrubal; in the mongrel Greek currentamongst Mediterranean sea-folk. Two of his seamen ascended the ladder andreturned with Lampaxo, who smirked and simpered at sight of Democrates andbobbed him a courtesy.
"The traitor is seized, your Excellency. I hope your Excellency will seethat he drinks hemlock. You will be merciful to my poor husband, even ifhe must be arrested for the night. Gods and goddesses! what are these mendoing to me?"
A stalwart Carthaginian was in the act of knotting a cord around the goodwoman's arms preparatory to pinioning them.
"_Kyrie! kyrie!_" she screamed, "they are binding me, too! Me--the mostloyal woman in Attica."
Democrates scowled and turned his back on her.
"Your Lordship surely intended this woman to be taken also," suggestedHiram, sweetly. "It cannot be he will leave such a dangerous witness atlarge."
"Of course not. Off with her!"
"_Kyrie! kyrie!_" was her shriek, but quickly ended, for Hasdrubal knittedhis fingers around her throat.
"A gag," he ordered, and with a few more struggles Lampaxo stood helplessand silent.
A little later the band was threading its stealthy way down the blackstreets. Four of the Carthaginians carried Glaucon, slung hands and feetover a pole. They dared not trust him on his feet. Phormio and Lampaxowalked, closely pinioned and pricked on by the captain's dagger. They weresoon at the deserted strand, and their ship's pinnace lay upon the beach.Democrates accompanied them as far as the dark marge, and watched whilethe boat glided out into the gloom of the haven. The orator paced homewardalone. Everything had favoured him. He had even cleared himself of thecurse of the Furies and the pursuit of Nemesis. He had, he congratulatedhimself, shown marvellous qualities of mercy. Glaucon lived? Yes--but theparching sand-plains of Libya would be as fast a prison as the grave, andthe life of a slave in Africa was a short one. Glaucon had passed from hishorizon forever.
A Victor of Salamis Page 37