“Alcibiades would like nothing better than an excuse to plunder Melnos. However, we are nine Englishmen, not counting my Greeks, and I think with all we will be a match for Andros, Alcibiades, and their brother blackguards.”
This conversation took place in Greek, so was therefore quite unintelligible to Maurice, who looked from the one to the other in astonishment. On seeing this, Justinian turned towards him with a courteous apology, and restored the portrait.
“As Andros gave you this, I will not deprive you of it, Mr. Roylands,” he said politely; “but shortly I hope to present you to the original.”
“Now?” asked Maurice eagerly.
“No; you must go and sleep this afternoon,” replied Justinian authoritatively; “and you also, Crispin. After your dangers of last night, you must be quite worn out.”
“Well, the bath and a meal have done wonders,” said Crispin, yawning; “but I must say a few hours’ sleep would complete the cure.”
“And when will we see Helena?” demanded Roylands persistently.
“This evening,” answered Justinian, taking him by the hand. “We must be good friends, Mr. Roylands, for I like your face. Tell me, do you resemble your father or your mother most?”
“My mother,” said Maurice, rather astonished at this strange question.
Justinian looked at him steadily, then, dropping his hand with a sigh, turned away, as if to conceal some sudden emotion. After a time he recovered himself, and spoke sharply, as if to atone for his faint-heartedness.