The captain of the Persian troop had not mingled in the contest.

Hovering in the background, he urged on his men, taking care to keep out of danger. Leonidas saw him as he wheeled, raising his arm to give a command. The sun flashed upon the glittering links of his gilded corselet. The Spartan hurled his lance at the mark with all the strength in his body. Straight flew the point of steel and split the brazen links, like a bolt from a catapult. The captain toppled from his horse and lay with his face in the dust. It was a final effort. A few moments more and all would be over.

Suddenly from the glen out of which Leonidas and his men had emerged rode a man upon a powerful black charger. In his hand he carried a lance of unusual length. His yellow hair tossed about his shoulders, and his blue eyes turned eagerly toward the righting.

"Leonidas!" he shouted. "Strike home! We are here!"

Behind him rode two companions. At sight of them the Spartan's brow cleared.

"Chares! Clearchus!" he cried.

Their coming turned the tide of the conflict. The Persians, ignorant of how many more might be following them, turned and fled down the pass before the new arrivals could strike a blow.

Leonidas embraced his friends. Of the Greeks who had fallen, only one, a young man of Caria, who had been stunned by a blow from a mace, was still alive. Clearchus caught his horse, and they lifted him upon its back.

"What brings you here?" Chares asked of Leonidas. "Where is Alexander?"

"That I will tell you later," the Spartan replied. "Look yonder!"

He pointed over the tree-tops on the lower slopes at the innumerable host that was creeping toward the mountain side.

"The Persians are about to cross the pass," he said. "Alexander and the army are in danger of being cut off, and we alone can save them."

"If Darius crosses the pass, it will be in our footsteps," Chares said.

"Let us be off."

Of the men who had followed Leonidas down the mountain at daybreak, only four remained.

"Lead on, Leonidas," Clearchus said. "You are in command again."

The Spartan turned his horse's head up the pass and the others fell in behind him. They rode unchallenged, for the defile had not yet been occupied by the Persian force. From every new elevation they could see the endless lines of infantry and cavalry slowly drawing together far below them, until they passed at noon through a narrow way between lofty and beetling cliffs, and saw Cilicia lying before them, with the blue horizon of the sea in the distant southwest.

CHAPTER XXXI

ALEXANDER IS SURPRISED

In the second watch of the night, the Macedonian outposts challenged four men whose horses were flecked with foam. The strangers came from the direction of Issus, along the narrow and rugged road that led southward through the Syrian Gates, between the mountains and the sea.

Alexander had led his army that day through the pass, and it was encamped at Myriandrus. In the moonlight the sentinels saw that the strangers were grimy with dust and that their faces were grim and gray with fatigue.

"I am Leonidas, of the Companions," said one of the riders who seemed to be the leader. "Lead me to the general in charge."

They were conducted to Ptolemy, son of Lagus, who immediately recognized Leonidas. He greeted Chares and Clearchus with surprise.

The Spartan led him aside.

"Darius is at Issus," he said.

Ptolemy stared at him incredulously.

"The Persians behind us!" he exclaimed. "You must be dreaming!"

"No," Leonidas replied. "All day we have fled before them."

"The king must know at once," Ptolemy said. "Follow me."

He led the way through the sleeping camp to Alexander's tent, in which a lamp was burning. A sentinel stood before it in full armor.

"What is your business?" he demanded.

"I must speak with the king," Ptolemy replied.

"The king left orders that he must not be disturbed. Wait until the morning," the man said calmly.

"I will take the responsibility," Ptolemy retorted angrily. "Stand aside!"

"You cannot pass," the soldier answered, without moving.

"What is this?" Alexander inquired, raising the curtain of the tent.

He held in his hand a copy of the Iliad, in which he had been reading.

"Is it you, Ptolemy--and Leonidas? Enter."

They followed him into the tent, which contained nothing save his weapons and a couch spread upon the ground.

"Clearchus and Chares back again!" the young king cried in a tone of satisfaction. "You have much to tell me; but first I must hear what Leonidas brings."

"Darius and his army have passed the Amanic Gates and are now at Issus," Leonidas said briefly.

The smile left Alexander's lips.

"How many men has he?" he asked.

"Five hundred thousand, of whom thirty thousand are mercenaries of Greek blood," Leonidas answered.

"They are in our rear," Alexander said, half to himself. He began to pace backward and forward, with his hands behind his back and his head inclined slightly toward his left shoulder. Although the startling news brought to him by the Spartan had taken him wholly by surprise, his decision was swift. Before he had made three turnings, his entire plan of campaign had been changed.

"The Gods have delivered them into our hands!" he said in a tone of conviction. "I dared not expect such good fortune. In the narrow plain of Issus, their army will defeat itself. The victory is ours."

His face was radiant and he spoke joyously, like a man whose mind has been relieved of a great anxiety; but his eyes were fastened upon the face of Ptolemy. Alexander had not failed to note the expression of apprehension that his lieutenant wore. He saw it vanish before the warmth of his own confidence. He felt that he would be able to avert any feeling of panic that might arise in the army at the unexpected turn of events.

"This is good news you bring," he said to Leonidas, "and I am repaid for waiting."

He glanced sharply at the sunken eyes and bloodless lips of the Spartan and spoke to the sentinel.

"Tell them to bring food and wine at once," he commanded.

The young king's eyes fell upon Nathan, apparently for the first time.