"Peace," replied Antagoras. "In this hour, when the fair face of
Artemis recalls the old legends of Endymion, is it not permitted to
man to remember that before the iron age came the golden, before war
reigned love?"

"Tush," said Uliades. "Time enough to think of love when we have
satisfied vengeance. Let us summon our friends, and hold council on
the Spartan's insults."

"Whither goes now the Spartan?" murmured Antagoras abstractedly, as
he suffered his companion to lead him away. Then halting abruptly, he
struck his clenched hand on his breast.

"O Aphrodite!" he cried; "this night--this night I will seek thy
temple. Hear my vows--soothe my jealousy!"

"Ah," grunted Uliades, "if, as men say, thou lovest a fair Byzantine,
Aphrodite will have sharp work to cure thee of jealousy, unless she
first makes thee blind."

Antagoras smiled faintly, and the two Ionians moved on slowly and in
silence. In a few minutes more the quays were deserted and nothing but
the blended murmur, spreading wide and indistinct throughout the camp,
and a noisier but occasional burst of merriment from those resorts
of obscener pleasure which were profusely scattered along the haven,
mingled with the whispers of "the far resounding sea."


Notes: