“I am quite with you, Count,” said Mrs. Dengelton, rolling up her work. “Come, Eunice, we must get our beauty sleep.”
“Humph! the mother needs it more than the daughter,” thought Crispin, but did not give vent to this very uncomplimentary remark, and hastened to give the ladies their candles.
“Are you going to bed, Caliphronas?” asked Maurice, when the ladies had gone. “We intend to smoke.”
“Going to shorten your lives,” replied the Count, smiling. “No; I am like Mrs. Dengelton, I require my beauty sleep;” and at that he also departed.
The Rector, in company with his two young friends, went to the smoking-room, and had a pleasant conversation, but it was noticeable that all three gentlemen carefully avoided mentioning the name of Caliphronas. Decidedly the Greek was not in favor, and, in spite of the good impression he had created in the Rector’s mind by his patriotic emotion, that gentleman showed how deeply rooted was his distrust by his parting words to Crispin.
“Remember, I leave Maurice in your hands, Mr. Crispin,” he said in a faltering voice; “he is very dear to me, and you must protect him from all danger.”
“My dear Rector, I am not a child,” interposed Maurice, rather nettled; “nor are we going to the wilds of Africa.”
“You may meet with worse enemies than the savage beasts of Africa,” replied the Rector obstinately. “I do not trust your friend Caliphronas.”
“Be content,” said Crispin, shaking the Rector warmly by the hand, “I will watch over Maurice; and as to Caliphronas you need not be afraid of him. I know the man.”
“And know any good of him?”