“He wants me to ascend the throne when vacant.”
“You?”
“Myself! Are you not astonished?”
Crispin twirled his cigarette in his fingers, looked thoughtfully at the red tip as if consulting it as an oracle, and then made slow reply.
“Yes, and no. Justinian evidently sees in you a clear-headed man, who would carry out his scheme if you honorably promised to do so. He is English, you are English, and he trusts none but his own countrymen, so I cannot say that his offer to make you his successor startles me very much.”
“But, my dear Crispin, granted I have these capabilities you so kindly gift me with, of which I am doubtful, Justinian has only known me two days, and a clever man as he is could scarcely come to a conclusion so quickly.”
“Justinian is a good judge of character, and can tell the nature of a man in five minutes, where you or I would take five years in the search. Besides,” added the poet, with an imperceptible smile, “he may have another and stronger reason.”
“You mean Helena, I suppose?”
Now Crispin did not mean Helena at all; but as what he did allude to was not his own secret, he let Maurice believe that his supposition regarding Helena was the right one.
“Well, yes; I suppose Helena is a reason.”