As to their oppressors, Phillidas the secretary, who had been working with the exiles and knew all their plans, having long before invited Archias and his friends to a wine party to meet certain courtesans, intended to endeavour to hand them over to their assailants in as enervated and intoxicated a condition as possible. However before they were very far gone in liquor a rumour was brought to their ears, which, although true, was without confirmation and very vague, to the effect that the exiles were concealed in the city. Though Phillidas endeavoured to change the subject, still Archias sent one of his servants to Charon, ordering him to come instantly. Now it was evening, and Pelopidas and his party were preparing themselves, in the house, and had already got their corslets on, and had girt on their swords. Suddenly, a knock was heard at the door. One of them ran out, and hearing the servant say that Charon had been sent for by the polemarchs, he in great trepidation brought the news to the rest. At once it occurred to all that the plot had been betrayed, and that they all were lost, without even having done anything worthy of their courage. Yet they agreed that Charon should comply with the summons and that he should unsuspiciously present himself before the Spartan chiefs. He was a man of courage, and slow to lose heart, but now he was panic-stricken and terrified lest when so many brave citizens lost their lives, some suspicion of treachery might rest on himself. So, just when he was going, he brought his son from the women's apartments, a boy still, but in beauty and strength surpassing all of his own age, and handed him over to Pelopidas's party, bidding them treat him as an enemy and show no mercy, if they should find _him_ guilty of any deceit or treachery. Many of them shed tears at the feeling shown by Charon, and his noble spirit, and all felt shame, that he should think any of them so base and so affected by their present danger, as to suspect him or even to blame him, and they begged him not to mix up his son with them, but put him out of the way of the coming stroke, that he might be saved and escape from the tyrants, and some day return and avenge his father and his friends. But Charon refused to take away his son, for what life, he asked, or what place of safety could be more honourable to him than an easy death with his father and so many friends? After praying and embracing them all, and bidding them be of good cheer, he went away, taking great pains to adopt a look and tone of voice as different as possible to that of a conspirator.