The priests discussed the two young men at length, but in the end rejected both—honest young fellows but not of calibre for this business. Then Dryas was proposed but quickly rejected. Then several other young men of Delphi. It was not easy to find a leader of the peculiar genius needed, fearless yet not quarrelsome, young yet understanding, having the statesman’s uncanny vision to discern the hidden meaning of events and their unlooked-for but inevitable resultants. During this later discussion Timon had remained quite silent. Evidently he was thinking something through before proposal. Timon’s was the most original mind in the Council, and Nikander awaited his word with pleasure. However, amazement rather than pleasure followed it. “O priests,” at last said Timon, “has it occurred to you that there have been women who were successful _oekists_ of colonies?” “Women! what nonsense, Timon. What are you joking about?” The Council broke into puzzled laughter. For women were a perennial source of satire. “No, no, I mean it. Did not Dido, the Tyrian, found Carthage and was faithful to the city even unto death?” “Ay, but Dido was no Greek.” “No, but Manto was—Manto who founded Clarus. She was a _priest’s daughter_, a priest of Apollo.” Suddenly Nikander guessed Timon’s meaning. It was Theria—none other, whom Timon was about to propose for this high, amazing trust. But why? How could Timon know that the girl had the needed power—Nikander’s little girl, hidden away in her home, unknown? For a moment Nikander pictured her thus and trembled to think how his familiar Theria could wield the power of state. Then with an overwhelming pride he realized that she could! _She could do it!_ What else was the meaning of her trenchant questionings, her revealing suggestions in matters which puzzled himself, her overpowering interest in public affairs in spite of all rebukes, her oracles, by which in the very face of death she had sent courage to the armies? Yes, yes, Theria could! And the high task would meet and satisfy her mental need. Ah, but that task would take her away over seas; away, away to the west. Nikander would never see his child again. The very life would be torn out of him to part with her. It was too sudden, too unexpected. He must call aloud to Timon to stop—stop! But no. Did he dare stand in Theria’s way, to deprive her of this gift? Was it not her right, her fate from the gods? Nikander hid his face from the Council. They would never understand this emotion of his—this dependence upon a girl-child. But what were the priests saying? With quick concern Nikander looked up again. “It’s not only foolish, Timon; it’s dangerous!” Melas spoke. “Give a woman power like that, she’ll go mad with it.”