“And we could wish no better bearer of such news than the victor of former days?” added Rhodopis.  “Take your seat,” cried Phanes impatiently, “and come to the point with your news at once, friend Kallias.”

“Immediately, fellow-countryman,” answered the other.  “It is some time ago now since I left Olympia.  I embarked at Cenchreae in a fifty-oared Samian vessel, the best ship that ever was built.

“It does not surprise me that I am the first Greek to arrive in Naukratis.  We encountered terrific storms at sea, and could not have escaped with our lives, if the big-bellied Samian galley, with her Ibis beak and fish’s tail had not been so splendidly timbered and manned.

“How far the other homeward-bound passengers may have been driven out of their course, I cannot tell; we found shelter in the harbor of Samos, and were able to put to sea again after ten days.

“We ran into the mouth of the Nile this morning.  I went on board my own bark at once, and was so favored by Boreas, who at least at the end of my voyage, seemed willing to prove that he still felt kindly towards his old Kallias, that I caught sight of this most friendly of all houses a few moments since.  I saw the waving flag, the brightly lighted windows, and debated within myself whether to enter or not; but Rhodopis, your fascination proved irresistible, and besides, I was bursting with all my untold news, longing to share your feast, and to tell you, over the viands and the wine, things that you have not even allowed yourselves to dream of.”

Kallias settled himself comfortably on one of the cushions, and before beginning to tell his news, produced and presented to Rhodopis a magnificent gold bracelet in the form of a serpent’s, which he had bought for a large sum at Samos, in the goldsmith’s workshop of the very Theodorus who was now sitting with him at table.

“This I have brought for you,"’ he said, turning to the delighted Rhodopis, “but for you, friend Phanes, I have something still better.  Guess, who won the four-horse chariot-race?”

“An Athenian?” asked Phanes, and his face glowed with excitement; for the victory gained by one citizen at the Olympic games belonged to his whole people, and the Olympic olive-branch was the greatest honor and happiness that could fall to the lot, either of a single Hellene, or an entire Greek tribe.

“Rightly guessed, Phanes!” cried the bringer of this joyful news, “The first prize has been carried off by an Athenian; and not only so, your own cousin Cimon, the son of Kypselos, the brother of that Miltiades, who, nine Olympiads ago, earned us the same honor, is the man who has conquered this year; and with the same steeds that gained him the prize at the last games.