“Yes, I heard you say so.”
“Was it your wish I should marry him, as he said?”
“Girl, I would rather see you dead than the wife of that despicable coward,” retorted the Demarch fiercely. “Now retire at once, and leave me to settle the matter. Good-night.”
“Good-night, father.”
She turned to go with an air of utter lassitude, but the strain of the last half hour had completely broken her down, and suddenly, with a low cry, she burst into tears. Justinian caught her in his arms, and began to soothe her tenderly with endearing words, which moved the girl strangely, for she was quite unused to such caresses from her iron-natured father.
“My girl, my little child, you must not weep!” whispered the old man, kissing her white face. “All will yet be well, and never shall you see this vile Andros again. He shall leave the island at once. You did well to refuse him, and I am proud of the spirit you displayed. Come, come! you must weep no more. I know all.”
“You know?” she faltered, looking at him in astonishment.
“Yes, I know, and I approve. Now, good-night, my darling, and sleep well.”
He led her slowly to the door, and, having summoned Zoe, sent the girl to bed at once in charge of her maid, then returned to the centre of the court and looked frowningly at the entrance through which Caliphronas had disappeared.
“You dared to speak like that to my child!” he murmured fiercely. “It is well you fled, or, old as I am, you would not have left this court alive. It is war between us now, Andros, and if I gain the victory, you had better have died than spoken as you have done to-night.”