“I am sure you are not a coward,” said Maurice warmly.
“No, I don’t think I am,” replied Crispin equably. “I fancy if Justinian had seen the storm he would have changed his opinion about Caliphronas; but, as to myself, I hope yet to right myself in the eyes of the old man. I am glad you have such a good opinion of me, Maurice.”
“My dear fellow,” cried Roylands, grasping him by the hand, “I have the best possible opinion of you in every way, and always had!”
“Even when I was a mystery?”
“Yes; though I own you were puzzling at times. But you are a coward in one way, Crispin.”
The poet flushed redly, and Maurice hastened to finish his sentence.
“In the presence of Mrs. Dengelton.”
“He would be a bold man who felt no fear in the presence of that lady,” answered Crispin, his face clearing again. “But here comes Caliphronas with a smiling face.”
“A sign that Justinian has succeeded.”
The Greek advanced towards them with a merry laugh, and looked triumphantly at Maurice, who bore his insolent self-complacency with wonderful composure.