“Ah, that is a secret at present; but you may be sure he will not harm Maurice while I am near.”
“One would think we were going into danger, the way you talk,” said Roylands impatiently, “instead of a pleasant cruise in Greek waters.”
“The New Argonauts,” observed the Rector, laughing. “Good-night, Mr. Crispin. Good-night, my dear lad; come over and say good-by to-morrow.”
The Argonauts promised, and the Rector, quite at peace concerning his dear pupil, departed.
“You doubt Caliphronas; the Rector doubts Caliphronas,” said Maurice, when the old man had gone. “I am getting rather wearied of such doubts.”
“Well, I will set your doubts at rest in—say a week’s time.”
“And are your revelations startling?”
Crispin shrugged his shoulders.
“Not very; it all depends upon what you call startling. Really I have made by my talk this molehill of a Caliphronas into a mountain of dissimulation and deceit. He is not a good man, but I have no doubt he is as good as his neighbors.”
“The mystery which environs him fascinates me.”