Byzantium, more than twenty-three centuries before the date at which
this narrative is begun, stood two Athenians. In the waters of the
haven rode the vessels of the Grecian Fleet. So deep was the basin, in
which the tides are scarcely felt,[5] that the prows of some of the
ships touched the quays, and the setting sun glittered upon the smooth
and waxen surfaces of the prows rich with diversified colours and
wrought gilding. To the extreme right of the fleet, and nearly
opposite the place upon which the Athenians stood, was a vessel still
more profusely ornamented than the rest. On the prow were elaborately
carved the heads of the twin deities of the Laconian mariner, Castor
and Pollux; in the centre of the deck was a wooden edifice or pavilion
having a gilded roof and shaded by purple awnings, an imitation of the
luxurious galleys of the Barbarian; while the parasemon, or flag, as
it idly waved in the faint breeze of the gentle evening, exhibited the
terrible serpent, which, if it was the fabulous type of demigods and
heroes, might also be regarded as an emblem of the wily but stern
policy of the Spartan State. Such was the galley of the commander of
the armament, which (after the reduction of Cyprus) had but lately
wrested from the yoke of Persia that link between her European and
Asiatic domains, that key of the Bosporus--"the Golden Horn" of
Byzantium.[6]

High above all other Greeks (Themistocles alone excepted) soared the
fame of that renowned chief, Pausanias, Regent of Sparta and General
of the allied troops at the victorious battle-field of Plataea. The
spot on which the Athenians stood was lonely and now unoccupied, save
by themselves and the sentries stationed at some distance on either
hand. The larger proportion of the crews in the various vessels were
on shore; but on the decks idly reclined small groups of sailors, and
the murmur of their voices stole, indistinguishably blended, upon the