I was never much of a hand at a speech, and I did not enjoy being faced with the necessity of making one which might have such important results this way or that. But I was quite clear in my own mind what I wanted to say; so I took a step forward and began:
‘I bear you Neopalians no malice,’ said I. ‘You’ve not succeeded in hurting me, and I suppose you’ve not caught my friends, or they would be here, prisoners as I am a prisoner. Now I have killed two good men of yours, Vlacho there, and Spiro. I am content with that. I’ll cry you quits. I have given back the island to the Lady Euphrosyne; and what I give to a woman—ay, or to a man—I do not ask again either of a Governor or of anybody else. Therefore your island is safe, and I will swear to that by what oath you will. And, so far as I have power, no man or woman of all who stand round me shall come to any harm by reason of what has been done; and to that also I will swear.’
They had heard me intently, and they nodded in assent and approbation when the old priest, true to his part of peacemaker, looking round, said:
‘He speaks well. He will not do what my lord feared. He will give us an oath. Why should he not depart in peace?’
Phroso’s eyes sought mine, and she smiled sadly. Constantine was gnawing his finger nails and looking as sour as a man could look. It went to my heart to go on, for I knew that what I had to say next would give him another chance against me; but I preferred that risk to the only alternative.
‘Wait,’ said I. ‘An oath is a sacred thing, and I swore an oath when I was there in the house of the Stefanopouloi. There is a man here who has done murder on an old man his kinsman, who has contrived murder against a woman, who has foully deceived a girl. With that man I’ll not cry quits; for I swore that I would not rest till he paid the penalty of his crimes. By that oath I stand. Therefore, when I go from here, I shall, as Constantine Stefanopoulos has said, go to Rhodes and to the Governor, and I shall pray him to send here to Neopalia, and take that one man and hang him on the highest tree in the island. And I will come with the Governor’s men and see that thing done. Then I will go peaceably to my own land.’
There was a pause of surprise. Constantine lifted his lids and looked at me; I saw his hand move towards a pocket. I suspected what lay in that pocket. I heard low eager whisperings and questions. At last the old priest asked in a timid hesitating voice:
‘Who is this man of whom you speak?’
‘There he is,’ said I. ‘There—Constantine Stefanopoulos.’
The words were hardly out when Demetri clapped a large hairy hand across my mouth, whispering fiercely, ‘Hold your tongue.’ I drew back a step and struck him fairly between the eyes. He went down. A hoarse cry rose from the crowd; but in an instant Kortes had leapt from where he stood behind Phroso and was by my side. I had some adherents also among the bystanders; for I had been bidden to speak freely, and Demetri had no authority to silence me.