At the same time an offer of alliance came from Chios, the richest and most important of the Grecian islands, near the continent of Asia Minor. Chios was still nominally a member of the confederation of Delos, in alliance with, and bound to pay an annual tribute to, Athens. The Spartans knew the strength it would give them if they could cut away this strong support from their opponents. They promised to send a fleet of forty triremes to aid Chios in her revolt, and to act in concert with her new ally and ancient enemy, the Persian. In the spring of 412 these ships, with those of others of the Spartan allies, reached Lechaion, the western port of Korinth, and were hauled over the isthmus to Kenchreia, the eastern port, where they lay, ready to start for Chios as soon as the Isthmian games were over. In the meantime the Euböians had made the like offer of alliance to Agis, the Spartan king, at Dekeleia, and asked for the same assistance against Athens. The required help was promised. Before this aid could be given, and while Agis waited for reinforcements for that purpose, Lesbos revolted, and prayed the same aid from Agis. A small force arrived at this time from Sparta, and was sent on at once by Agis to help the Lesbians. But while this conspiracy was going on against her Athens was not idle. Like a lion brought to bay, she roused herself as dangers quickened round her. Her army gone, her great fleets sunk or burnt at Syrakuse, her food-supplies diminished, her revenues almost destroyed, without money or allies on whom she could depend, the whole state in mourning for the sons who never could return to her again from that sad Sicilian expedition, the islands and the tributary towns which she had rescued from the Persians, and guarded from their other enemies, revolting from her, or gone right over to a foe who was plotting with those very Persians to destroy her utterly, she rose majestic in her grief; the word ‘surrender’ was not so much as named—never breathed by any citizen; the idea of compromise was never for a moment entertained. Each blow as it came quick upon her roused her to fresh vigour. The ingratitude, the shameless ingratitude, of those small states, of which for nearly sixty years she had been the constant safeguard, might burn into her soul, but it did not shake her. In the past, perhaps, she sometimes domineered over them in her pride, and taken large tribute from them in the days of her power. But she protected them from ever-prowling enemies, and gave them back more than she took from them. And now—now in her distress—they were deserting her, going over to an enemy who, for his own immediate and selfish purpose, was not unwilling to undo what the pan-Hellenic federation had done, and it seemed that Marathon and Salamis had been fought in vain.