word. Then, after a deathlike silence broken only by the deep
breathings of father and child, Iphigenia spoke again: "My father, can
there be any prayer more pure and more persuasive than that of a maiden
for her father's welfare? And when, the cruel knife shall strike me
down, thou wilt have one daughter less to pray for thee." A shudder
shook the frame of Agamemnon, but he answered not a word.

At that moment Achilles entered. He had come in haste from the tents
beside the shore, and he spoke in hurried, anxious accents.

"Behold," said he, "a great tumult has arisen in the camp; for Calchas
has given out among the men that you refuse to do what Artemis has
bidden, and that hence these delays and troubles have arisen. And the
rude soldiers are crying out against you, and declaring that the maiden
must die. When I would have stayed their anger, they took up stones to
stone me--my own warriors among the rest. And now they are making
ready to move upon your tent, threatening to sacrifice you also with
your daughter. But I will fight for you to the utmost, and the maiden
shall not die."

As he was speaking, Calchas entered, and, grasping the wrist of the
pleading maiden, lifted her to her feet. She looked up, and saw his
stony face and hard cold eyes; and turning again to Agamemnon, she
said, "O father, the ships shall sail, for I will die for thee."

Then Achilles said to her, "Fair maiden, thou art by far the noblest
and most lovely of thy sex. Fain would I save thee from this fate,
even though every man in Greece be against me. Fly with me quickly to
my long-oared ship, and I will carry thee safely away from this
accursed place."