“Well,” said Nestor, “that was a remarkable case, if you consider what a man Agamemnon was, and how little Ægisthus amounted to. As it came to me, Ægisthus plotted the whole thing, and he intended to kill Menelaus, too, if he had gone to Mycenae. Clytemnestra wasn’t so bad. She held out against the idea for a long time, and Ægisthus would never have persuaded her if he hadn’t first got rid of the minstrel. You know about the minstrel? Agamemnon left him as the special protector of his wife. Whether it was the effect of his playing—he played and sang every evening—or whether it was the influence of his inspired character, Ægisthus could make no headway with Clytemnestra so long as the minstrel was there. So he asked him to go fishing one day, and the minstrel went to keep an eye on him, and Ægisthus marooned him on a rock that is covered at high tide. Clytemnestra gave in at once. The thought of his sins drove Ægisthus to sacrificing; he was always at his prayers, till Clytemnestra worried over the loss of cattle. He was praying when Orestes found him. Menelaus stayed at home, by the inspiration of the gods, and so escaped his brother’s fate. He’s at Sparta now, you know, with Helen. She’s lovelier than ever, they say.”

Telemachus said that Sparta would be his next stopping-place. Perhaps Menelaus might know something of his father. Nestor thought not, but it would do no harm to inquire. So the young man continued his voyage, hoping for news, and not unmoved by the prospect of seeing Helen, said to be more beautiful than ever.

When he came to the famous gate where once Paris had knocked, Eteoneus held him up with some feeble excuse, and hurried to find Menelaus.

“There’s another handsome young man outside,” he said. “Do we let him in?”

“Eteoneus,” said Menelaus, “there have been times in your life when you did not act like a fool. I wish I could say this was one of them. I don’t understand your question. Of course, we let him in! When I have travelled in the past, I have always been hospitably entertained, and I dare say it has happened to you. We must do the same in our turn, when a traveller comes.”

“Now, what’s the meaning of that!” said Eteoneus, but not very loud.