The Allied Fleet Sails.
“And still from morn till eve I’ve scanned
That weary sea from strand to strand,
To mark his sail against the spray.
In vain! In vain! The morning ray
Shows not his bark ’mid all the seas.”
Thomas Davidson.
The opportunity for meetings between Cimon and Ladice had been very rare
since the former wished as far as possible to avoid meeting
Themistocles. The young man had conscientiously endeavored to rectify
the harm that he had done against the older man, but the populace
preferred to believe the evil charge which was still vigorously promoted
by Leobotes and other newly-won conspirators.
One afternoon Cimon walked briskly into the curio shop of Aphobus. The
little merchant was dusting with loving care, delicate vases in ivory
and bronze of intricate designs.
“This vase,” he said, picking up a small urn in terra-cotta with figures
and designs painted in black, “has depicted upon it in minutest detail
the story of the siege of Troy. Here we see Paris presenting Aphrodite
with the apple. There he is carrying away the beautiful Helen. And
here,” he added delightedly, “is the wooden horse of Ulysses. How very—”
“I did not come here to discuss the Trojan war,” said Cimon abruptly. “I
came to find out if there is any truth to the rumor that Themistocles
has disappeared.”
Before Aphobus could reply, the entrance to the shop was darkened by
another figure. Both men upon looking up perceived it to be Lysimachus,
son of Aristides.
“Have you heard the news?” he cried, and upon receiving negative
responses, continued. “Themistocles has left Greece and it is believed
that he has gone to Persia!”
Cimon could venture no response but he listened dully to the details as
related by the son of Themistocles’ former rival. But one question kept
throbbing in his brain: “Will she marry me now that Themistocles has
gone?”
He realized presently that Lysimachus was addressing him personally. “I
hear that the allied fleet leaves tomorrow on its first expedition since
the formation of the Delian Confederacy, with you as its commander in
which capacity you succeed my father.”
“Yes we set sail on the morrow for Thrace to free from Persian rule the
town of Eion on the river Strymon.”
Aphobus gazed with approbation at the manly form of Cimon.
“I have known you since you were a little boy,” he said, “and I am proud
to see you the first man in Athens. This expedition is a noble
enterprise, but take care that while you are gone others right here in
the city do not arise to seek your position. I have in mind a certain
youth named Pericles. To be sure he is not the soldier that you are, but
he is a patron of the arts and is interested in beautifying Athens, as
very little of that has been done since the war.”
“I do not fear Pericles,” answered Cimon. “Athens is more interested at
present in the results of the recent formation of the Delian League
which pertain more directly to our colonies. After these troubles are
settled there will be time for the future rebuilding of the city.”
Cimon took his leave of Aphobus and Lysimachus and had gone but a few
steps when he met Leobotes. He wished to hurry on after a short nod of
greeting, but Leobotes stopped him with the words: “Congratulations,
Cimon, Themistocles has fled and now there is none before you in
Athens.”
“In my opinion Themistocles is fortunate to be away from the immediate
influence of the intrigues of certain so-called ‘loyal citizens.’ The
fate of Ephialtes should prove a warning to such,” with which words he
walked away from Leobotes who was too much astonished to reply.
At last he had opportunity to think! So the fiery statesman,
Themistocles, was gone, and he, Cimon, had been instrumental in bringing
this about! Well he knew that he had done his utmost to prevent this
toward the last. He had humbled himself that Themistocles might not be
thought guilty of treason, and all this was for the purpose of obtaining
the girl he loved. He realized that whether by force of will or
unconsciously he was drawing nearer and nearer to the home of
Themistocles. He paused before the entrance, ascended the steps and
lifted the bronze knocker. There was no response, so he gently pushed
open the door and entered. All was still. He proceeded cautiously to the
solarium and found it empty, but from this room the faint sound of
voices came to his listening ear. They proceeded from the garden, so
thither he betook himself. From the top of a short flight of stone steps
which led to the garden, he surveyed the abundance of plants and
shrubbery which he thought surpassed even those in the garden of
Pasicles. He caught sight of two female figures seated upon a bench at
the farther end of the garden. They were Ladice and Asia, the youngest
daughter of Themistocles. The girls seemed to be indulging in mutual
consolation.
A vague uneasiness that foreboded no good hovered about Cimon as he
approached with the words: “Do I intrude?”
Ladice shook her head while Asia arose, hastily excused herself and
entered the house.
Cimon took the place that Asia had occupied and said gently: “Ladice,
you can not believe how I regret what has happened. Believe that I did
all within my power to prevent this ever since our meeting in the shadow
of the Acropolis. I have come to take you with me, Ladice. I sail in the
morning for Thrace.”
“And you will go alone,” she replied drawing away from him. “Do you
think for one moment that I will be the wife of the man who helped to
cause the ruin of one whose home has sheltered me for many months? You
failed in accomplishing your part of the agreement; I do not have to
abide by mine!”
Cimon’s face grew pale and his jaw acquired the peculiar set appearance
of indomitability.
“The trouble with me,” he cried, “is that I have been too gentle, too
lenient with you. My patience is exhausted and I am going to take you by
force.”
He caught her and held her close, though she struggled to free herself
from his almost brutal kisses.
“I am going to take you as the men of the mountain countries take their
wives,” he whispered fiercely, and she felt his hot breath upon her
cheek.
Frantically she struggled to gain her freedom, succeeding at times in
striking sharp blows upon his face, but still he held her in a vise-like
grip. Her desperate struggles merely strengthened his determination to
conquer her, but when she realized the impotence of her resistance, she
resorted to the use of the most effective weapon a woman can employ. In
scathing tones she reminded him of the dissipations of his youth, of the
disgrace of his father and ended with a direct accusation of the
ostracism of Themistocles, thus denying any belief in the assurances
with which he had opened conversation with her upon entering the garden.
Suddenly his hold relaxed. He pushed her from him and arose from the
bench and there was a cold glint in the eyes that a moment before had
burned with the light of desire.
“Very well,” he said, and his tones were clearly cut and even, “the fair
Agariste to whom my attentions are not unwelcome will accompany me to
Thrace.”
He turned and left her, a pitiful drooping figure. Her posture remained
the same for some moments after he had gone, and so preoccupied was she
that she did not hear Asia re-enter the garden and seat herself beside
her.
“My poor dear girl, that man is a brute,” remarked Asia indignantly. “At
any rate you can rejoice that he will molest you no more. I could not
help hearing some of the things he said, and I hope he and his Agariste
will meet no delays in getting away from Athens. Why do you not laugh at
your good fortune, foolish girl? One would think from your crestfallen
appearance that you loved the man!”
Ladice looked up and smiled faintly through her tears as she said,
“Asia, I believe I do!”
“You do love him! that beast that makes three-headed Cerberus look like
a lamb!” cried Asia. “Ladice, you must be crazy! Grief over my poor
father and the excitement of the past hour have unbalanced your mind.
Come let me get you to bed, though there is yet another hour before set
of sun.”
“No Asia, I could not rest,” said the grief-stricken girl. “Please leave
me. The garden is so beautiful and I wish to be alone with my thoughts.”
Asia left her reluctantly making her promise to retire early.
Once more alone Ladice marvelled at the change that had come over her.
From a cold, indifferent girl she had changed into a passionate, loving
woman. The love must have come when she lay helpless in his arms, she
reasoned, but it was not a vital thing till he spoke the words that
stung her pride. How different was this love from that which she had
felt for the Persian, Masistius! That had been like a clear and steady
light; this was a fire that leaped wildly while it consumed. At times
she smiled at the memory of his kisses, then clenched her hands as she
thought of the unknown Agariste.
Darkness fell but she took no food, and worn out with weeping she
dropped into a dreamless sleep. She awoke with a sense of depression. It
was dawn and birds were twittering in their nests about her. It was
apparent from the silence that the household was still wrapped in
slumber. Gathering her shawl more closely about her she made her way
cautiously through the house to the street. Along narrow lanes she
threaded her way with unnatural rapidity. She ran between mud-colored
walls that rose on either side, punctuated with doors out of which
stared disheveled women. Piles of rotting garbage lay in her path and
she was forced to dodge now this way, now that, to avoid the slinking
forms of dogs that were seeking food among the piles of refuse. As she
neared the vicinity of the harbor she met men and women who looked at
her curiously. Then she realized what an aspect she presented; wild-eyed
and with unkempt hair, but she cared naught for her appearance. She was
obsessed with one idea; to present herself a willing companion to Cimon
on his journey.
On the quay she approached a woman, apparently of the upper class, who
with many others was gazing steadfastly out at sea, with the words,
“When does the fleet said for Thrace?”
For answer the woman pointed to the distant horizon where a few
indistinct blots were barely discernible.
“It sailed before sunrise,” said the woman. “I came to see it off
because the great commander Cimon honored our family by taking my
daughter Agariste with him as his bride.”