“But you dare not surrender!” cried Aristomachus.

“No, no, I have a plan,” shouted Theopompus the Milesian merchant.  “At sunrise to-morrow a ship sails for Miletus laden with Egyptian corn, but not from Naukratis, from Canopus.  Take the noble Persian’s horse and ride thither.  We will cut a way for you through the garden.”

“But,” said Gyges, “our little band is not strong enough to carry out such an attempt.  We number in all ten men, and of these only three have swords; our enemies, on the other hand, number at least a hundred, and are armed to the teeth.”

“Lydian!” cried Aristomachus, “wert thou ten times more fainthearted than thou art, and were our enemies double their number, I at least, will fight them!”

Phanes grasped his friend’s hand.  Gyges turned pale.  This brave warrior had called him fainthearted; and again he could find no words to answer; for at every stirring emotion his tongue failed him.  Suddenly the blood mounted to his face; his words came quickly and with decision:  “Athenian, follow me! and thou, Spartan, who art not wont to use words heedlessly, call no man fainthearted again before thou knowest him.  Friends, Phanes is safe, Farewell, father!”

The remaining guests surveyed these two departing men in silent wonder.  As they stood there, silently listening, the sound of two horses galloping swiftly away fell on their ear, and after a longer interval a prolonged whistle from the Nile and a cry of distress.

“Where is Knakias?” said Rhodopis to one of her slaves.

“He went into the garden with Phanes and the Persian,” was the answer, and as it was being spoken, the old slave re-entered, pale and trembling.

“Have you seen my son?” cried Croesus.  “Where is Phanes?”

“I was to bid you farewell from them both.”

“Then they are gone.—­Whither?  How was it possible?” . . .

“The Athenian and the Persian,” began the slave, “had a slight dispute in the anteroom.  This over, I was told to divest both of their robes.  Phanes then put on the stranger’s trousers, coat and girdle; on his own curls he placed the pointed Persian cap.  The stranger wrapped himself in the Athenian’s chiton and mantle, placed the golden circlet above his brow, caused the hair to be shaved from his upper lip, and ordered me to follow him into the garden.  Phanes, whom in his present dress, none could imagine to be other than a Persian, mounted one of the horses still waiting before the gate; the stranger called after him, ’Farewell Gyges, farewell beloved Persian, a pleasant journey to thee, Gyges!’ The servant, who had been waiting, followed on the other horse.  I could hear the clatter of arms among the bushes, but the Athenian was allowed to depart unmolested, the soldiers, without doubt, believing him to be a Persian.