"It has but one horn," he said.

They all became still at once. They all looked at the lamb. They all felt
of his horn. Their eyes grew big.

"There was never such a thing known," said the farmer.

"Whose is the lamb?" asked another. "Is it yours?"

"No," said Melas, "it belongs to Pericles the Archon. It was born on his
farm. I am taking it to him so that he may decide what to do with it."

"A portent on the farm of Pericles?" cried the old woman. "I'll warrant
it will be read as favoring him, since he already has a world at his
feet. May the Gods forgive me, but it seems to me they are often more
partial than just."

"Hush, woman," said one of the farmers. "Speak no ill of the Gods, not
until we are safe on the land at any rate."

The woman snapped her mouth shut. The farmers and the fisherman settled
themselves as far away as possible from the Twins and Melas, and nothing
more was said until the boat touched the other shore, and all the
passengers scrambled out upon the dock. The farmers and the fisherman and
the old woman all hastened away to the marketplace, and when they reached
it, they must have kept their tongues busy, for as Melas and the Twins
passed through it on their way to Athens a few moments later, they were
followed by a crowd of curious people who wanted to see the lamb and who
had a great deal to say about what such a miracle might mean.