The Golden Hope. Robert H. Fuller
had only recently begun to attract attention, but her fame had already eclipsed that of other popular favorites in Athens. Sculptors and painters had declared her the most beautiful woman in all Hellas. Poets had made verses in her honor, likening her to Hebe and Aphrodite. Her house was thronged daily with the youth of fashion. She had become the latest sensation in a city greedy for all that was new.
Little was known of her beyond the fact that she had been reared and educated in all the accomplishments of her profession by old Eunomus, one of the most skilful of all the Athenian dealers in flesh and blood. Where he had found her he refused to tell. Everybody had heard that Alcmæon had purchased her freedom a short time before his death, paying Eunomus half her weight in gold, and that he had made comfortable provision for her when his last illness seized him and he knew that he must die. The only regret that he had expressed was that he must leave her behind him.
Left in an independent position, Thais had shown herself capricious. None of the young men who hung about her could boast of any successes. A few had ruined themselves in their efforts to gain her favor, and one had even drunk hemlock and crept to her door to die. Clearchus, although he had never before seen her, had heard enough of her to feel astonished at her presence. He could not understand how Chares had been able to induce her to come, like a mere dancing girl, for their amusement, unless he had offered her an enormous sum of money. Knowing the reckless character of his friend, the thought alarmed him.
"You have ruined yourself!" he whispered to the Theban. "What did you promise the woman?"
"Not an obol, on my honor, O youth of simple heart!" Chares replied, laughing.
"Then how did you get her to come?" Clearchus asked. "You do not know her."
"I invited her," Chares replied; "and she accepted. I suppose it was a woman's whim. I did not ask her."
Slaves ran forward with a number of sword blades set in blocks of wood in such a manner as to enable them to stand upright. These they arranged symmetrically upon the carpet at equal distances from each other, so as to form a lozenge pattern with its point toward Thais. Dropping the end of the chain by which she held the leopard, as the music changed to a rhythmic cadence, the young woman began to tread in and out between the swords. Her movements were so light and graceful that she seemed hardly to touch the carpet, threading her way from side to side to the quickening measure. The leopard crept closer to the line of steel and watched her with glowing eyes. Faster and faster grew the measure, and faster grew her motions, until she was whirling among the blades, which flickered like blue flames as her shadow intercepted the light. A misstep would have sent her down to her death upon one of the points which she seemed to regard no more than if they had been so many flowers. The company watched her with a suspense that was breathless. Suddenly the music ceased, and she stood before them unharmed at the upper point of the lozenge. There was a glow on her cheeks and her bosom panted from her exertions. The guests broke into cries of admiration, casting their wreaths of myrtle at her feet; but she had eyes only for Chares, who lay looking at her with a lazy smile. She frowned and bit her lip.
"Did I not do it well?" she demanded.
"Excellently well," Chares replied.
"Is that all?" she asked in a tone of disappointment.
Before he could make any reply there came a frantic knocking at the door outside the house. Clearchus started forward with an exclamation of alarm. The man whom he had placed on guard ran in, terror stricken, followed by Tolman, one of the slaves from Melissa's house in Academe.
"Oh, my master!" Tolman cried, throwing himself at the feet of Clearchus.
"Artemisia!" the young man demanded.
"They have carried her off," Tolman said, "and Philox, the steward, is slain!"
"Horses, Cleon! Bring swords and armor!" Clearchus shouted.
"Who has done this?" Chares asked.
"I know not," Clearchus replied; "we were forewarned; but it would be better for them had they never been born."
"Fetch me a jar of water," Chares cried, pushing aside the guests, who had left their places and were crowding around Clearchus to learn the news. When a slave brought a jar of cold water, the Theban plunged his head into it to clear his brain and shook off the drops from his yellow hair. "Now my armor!" he said.
Leonidas was already occupied in putting on the light accoutrement of a horseman, and, although he said nothing, there was a look of expectant joy on his harsh face.
Thais, who had drawn to one side, stood for a moment, and then seeing that she had been forgotten, slipped away unnoticed. Some of the guests hastened to their homes to arm themselves and follow the three friends, while others remained behind to discuss the event. Clearchus said a hasty farewell, and in a few moments from the arrival of the slave the three young men, followed by Cleon, were racing down to the city gate.
Into the open country they dashed, Clearchus leading the way, while the others spurred madly in their effort to keep pace with him. The sun had not yet risen when they wheeled into the gateway and drew rein at Melissa's villa. The place seemed deserted, for the terrified servants had closed and barred the doors, fearing a renewal of the attack. It was several minutes before they were able to gain an entrance.
The frightened women pressed around Clearchus, wailing and beating their breasts and trying all at once to tell him the story of what had happened. The young man waved them aside and ran to the room where Philox lay. The faithful old steward had received a dagger thrust in the breast and was unconscious. Clearchus then sought Melissa; but in the extremity of her fright she had locked herself in her apartments and refused to open the door.
Finding that nothing was to be learned in that quarter, Clearchus sternly commanded the women to be silent and answer his questions. Trembling, they obeyed, and he managed to make them tell how the marauders had scaled the walls of the house with a ladder and how Philox had fallen while trying to prevent them from admitting their confederates. They had pillaged the house of everything that they could carry. Artemisia had fainted when they laid their hands upon her to take her away, but they had placed her in a litter which they seemed to have ready for the purpose. As nearly as the women were able to judge, they had gone southward, and as soon as they were out of sight, Tolman had ridden to the city to give the alarm.
"They are making for the harbor," Leonidas cried. "We shall catch them yet!"
Clearchus felt two small cold hands clasp his own, and glancing down he saw Proxena, one of Artemisia's little slave girls, with her tear-stained face upturned to his.
"Please, master," she sobbed, "bring back our mistress, Artemisia!"
The young Athenian could not speak, but he lifted the child quickly and kissed her. In another moment they were off in the pursuit.
CHAPTER VI
SYPHAX EARNS HIS REWARD
Clearchus led the way through brake and thicket and across tilled fields, bearing off slightly to the southwest so as to avoid the Long Walls that joined the city to the Piræus, where he knew the robbers would not dare to venture. They crossed the winding Cephissus by the Sacred Way, skirting the hills that overlook the harbor. It seemed hours to the young man before they emerged upon the brow of a slope that fell away to the rocky beach.
Directly below them was a small inlet from which a boat filled with men was putting out toward a weather-beaten galley that lay a short distance offshore.
"There she is!" Chares cried, pointing to a blotch of white in the bow of the boat.
"We are too late!" Clearchus groaned, as he measured with his eye the widening gap between the boat and the shore. Despair and helpless rage surged up in his heart as they dashed recklessly down the slope.
"Come