At every festival came crowding news of the great Persian king across the sea preparing his army to invade and devour. Into every port came sailors telling of the fleets of Phœnicians, Cyprians, Lykians, Dorians of Asia, etc., all of which fleets were making ready to pounce upon Greece. Then arrived the actual ambassadors of the King, demanding earth and water. Which was to say: “Consent to slavery and the Persians will leave you out of the fight.” Many cities gave these tokens immediately. “Who, then, will resist?” “What will happen if any should resist?” “Will the gods help?” “Have the gods forgotten their beloved Hellas?” Such were the questions which poured into Delphi. These days Nikander might be seen pacing to and fro in some lesche or near the Council House, seeing naught before him, blind to the beauty of hills and far-glimpsed vale. Then perhaps in desperation he would stride down the hill and along the road toward home. In the women’s aula Melantho would greet him with the small worries of the day. A slave child was ill and she knew not what to do for it. She must have more grain to store away in the storeroom or Nikander would have to go without his special cake next winter. “And will you have a cake now?” she asked. “And a little wine? Do, now; you look tired.” “Yes,” he said. “Yes.” And so she went out to make the slaves do all in order. Meanwhile, Theria came in and sat upon a stool near by. She spoke no word but tried to untangle a thread from her distaff, parting wisp from wisp with slender fingers, and watched her father with keen, quiet eyes. Melantho returned chattering and Nikander ate his cake in silence, and still Theria watched. She knew that the Amphictyonic Council, that famous council of many states, was meeting to-day in its house west of the town. Why was it meeting now? This was not the season. She knew that her father had been with it. He was one of the Amphictyons. There had been hot dispute, she could see that in his face. But had he won? And what was the strife about? She knew something of the danger which threatened the land. This she knew in spite of the fact that Nikander had been strict in keeping the news away from the household. He hated the aspects of fear: these would come soon enough. Bitterly Theria longed to ask questions. She knew that there was no use. She knew that her father had come home for peace, for a respite. After a while Melantho was called away, and Theria moved over beside her father on the bench and slipped her hand into his. He sighed restfully as she did so. Then care again settled like closing wings upon him. Theria decided that he had not won in the Council—at least not for to-day. She also decided that the controversy had been serious. She could not guess that it had to do with the whole policy of the Oracle in the face of the Persian attack. In that Council Nikander and one friend stood alone for the defence of Greece. All the others stood for surrender.