Now the swift messenger of the gods descended from Olympus to the shores of the Hellespont and wandered along the road which Priam was to take. He had assumed the form of a Greek youth of noble race, whose appearance inspired confidence. Priam had arrived at the grave of Ilus, where the Scamander flows gently along, and there he had stopped to water his horses. Old Idæus saw the godlike youth coming along the river bank in the twilight and said fearfully to the king: “Look! son of Dardanus, there cometh a strange man. He will surely kill us both and make off with our goods. What shall we do? Shall we fly to the city or shall we get down and embrace his knees, begging for mercy?” Priam looked up and saw with dismay that the man was already close to the chariot. Sudden fear paralyzed his limbs, but when he saw the youth’s face close by and heard his friendly voice he was reassured. “Greeting to thee, old man.” Thus the youth addressed him. “Whither goest thou so late when all other mortals are asleep? Dost thou not fear the Achaians, who are not far away? And neither thou, nor the old man thy companion, are fit to defend yourselves. But I will not harm thee, for thou art so like my dear father, noble king, that I am drawn to thee.” “Fortune favors me,” cried the old man. “Now I see that Jupiter is with me, as he hath sent me such a noble guide through the dark night, of such remarkable stature and strength and of such wisdom. Truly thou hast fortunate parents.” “Tell me, old man,” continued the stranger, “where art thou taking these goods? Art trying to carry thy greatest treasures to a place of safety before the destruction of Troy, or art thou flying secretly from the city for fear of the victorious enemy? For indeed thou hast lost thy chief treasure. As long as noble Hector lived, ye could battle on equal terms with the Achaians.” This warmed the old father’s heart. “Who art thou,” he asked, “who speakest so kindly of my poor son?” “Who does not so?” answered the stranger. “How often I have seen him in the stress of battle driving the Argives in droves before him. We often stood and admired him from a distance when Achilles forbade us to join in the battle; for I am one of his companions and came hither in the same ship with him. My father is a noble Myrmidon called Polyctor. He has property and money, but is an old man like thyself. I am the youngest of seven brothers. When Achilles went to war we cast lots to see which should go with him, and the lot fell to me. I have been wandering about, thinking of the fate of Troy, for to-morrow the Achaians intend to assault the city. They are weary of the long truce and are anxious to end the war.” “If thou art one of Achilles’ companions,” said Priam, “thou canst doubtless tell me whether my son’s body is still lying at the ships or whether the cruel man has already thrown it to the dogs.”