“No, only straws, but plenty of them. I keep a clever slave down at the Piræus who has no other business than to listen to stories of the ship-merchants and traders. Sailors know the way of the winds—the winds of the future. They push in at every shore. The Great King they tell us is now warring against Egypt, but our turn is next. Oh, it is surely the next. Nikander, the armies which Darius brought against us seven years agone were but a handful to those which his son Xerxes will bring.” “I believe that,” said Nikander. “Ay, and the Delphian Council believe it, too.” “Good!” exclaimed the Athenian. “It is not good. Do you know, Themistokles, what this belief breeds in the Council? Fear; only fear! ‘Hellas cannot withstand the Persian.’ That is what they are whispering here in Delphi. ‘Hellas is doomed.’” Themistokles’s face took on a horror which startled the listening girl. “Nikander,” he cried, “you will not allow Delphi to shirk. The Oracle must stand by Athens!” “I will stand by Athens and by all Hellas,” said Nikander solemnly. “I believe Apollo will defend his own.” Themistokles now began to talk of the silver mines of Laurium and how he had been trying to persuade the Athenians to forego their yearly gift of silver in order to build ships for fighting against the little island of Ægina. “Will so many ships be needed?” queried Nikander with sharp insight. Themistokles leaned toward him, laughing softly, triumphantly. “For the war with Ægina!” he said, low-toned. “Believe me, for that war the ships will not be used. But when the Persian comes, he will find certain ships in our harbour that will give him pause. Remember that, Nikander, so that you may give credit to Themistokles who saw before the event.” All too soon Themistokles took his departure. Afterward Theria heard the slaves gossiping about the man. “He brought with him a purple tent,” they said, “and furniture and many slaves, even for his short visit.” Themistokles lived like a prince in Delphi. CHAPTER VIII DRYAS TAKES A ROBBER There was no use mincing matters; Lycophron, the eldest son of Nikander, was not satisfactory. Handsome in person, he had nevertheless always been slow to learn and swift in evil doing, the bane of his Delphic schoolmasters. At fourteen years his features had coarsened, his eyes grown less intelligent. Now at eighteen that phase was past and he was clever in a fashion which Nikander vainly tried to think creditable. Nikander wanted to keep close to his boy in study and sports. Lycophron was his first-born. Some day Lycophron would be priest in Nikander’s stead, would take his chair in the Amphictyonic Council. Yet try as he might, Nikander could never look forward to this succession without shame.