coarse undyed wool of black sheep. Their proud, stern, crafty faces suited perfectly with their garb.
The first ephor spoke:
"It will be necessary for you to make formal oath of secrecy as to all that passes here," he said. "We desire to consult you on matters of high policy."
Clearchos stood up, lifted both hands palm up and out, after the manner of the Greeks in supplication, and with raised face solemnly invoked upon himself the perpetual wrath of Zeus the Savior and Herakles of Guidance if he betrayed by word, silence, motion or look anything he learned while before the council.
"Will that suffice?" he asked. The ephors nodded and he reseated himself, facing the five silent elders. They remained silent for some time, then the eldest ephor spoke.
"The late Shah of Persia has left several sons."
"You need not say another word," said Clearchos, "I know just what you want."
"Tell us then," said the second ephor.
"Most friendly to Sparta of the present Shah's brothers," said Clearchos, "is the satrap of Lydia, who has supplied us with money to retrieve our repeated disasters and by whose aid we have finally defeated the Athenians. He
