“I have, and she has refused me,” said Caliphronas sullenly.
“In that case, I am afraid you cannot marry her.”
“Cannot marry her!” stammered Caliphronas, the rich color of his face fading to a dull gray; “but you promised to make her marry me.”
“Did I? then I break that promise!”
“You break it! And what about my succeeding you as Demarch of Melnos.”
“I break that also!”
Caliphronas, too startled to speak, stood looking blankly at the Demarch, pale as the marble pillar against which he leaned. Much as he disliked him, Maurice could not but feel sorry for the shame and agony felt by the baffled schemer. Twice, thrice, he tried to answer Justinian, but the words died away feebly on his parched lips, while the Demarch, relentless in his anger, spoke cruelly and deliberately, as if to torture still further the wretched man before him.
“You are astonished at my thus acting so dishonorably. I am astonished myself, as never before have I broken a promise once made, even to the meanest person. However, in this case, necessity demanded that I should make use of you as a tool, in order to gain my own ends, and I have done so, with the fullest intention of defeating your schemes. Ah yes, my dear friend, I know perfectly well that you would have betrayed me to Alcibiades, had I not, by a stroke of diplomacy, secured you to my interests, by promising to give you my daughter and make you my successor. Had I not done so, you would have joined the ranks of my enemies, and I, being ignorant of their schemes, would have been at a disadvantage in defending my property. Therefore, knowing you were ready to play the traitor, unless bribed to remain true to your benefactor, you can hardly wonder that I made use of you, to learn the plans of those who were dangerous to me in every way. A man cannot serve two masters, and as the question of whose side you would embrace was simply one of bribery, I took advantage of your baseness. I bribed you! I promised you all you wished, without the slightest intention of fulfilling such promise. From you I have learned all I wish to know, and am now in a position to baffle both your ambition and that of Alcibiades. Between two stools you have fallen ignominiously to the ground; and now, having no further use for you, traitor and ingrate as you are, I command you to leave my island this very day.”
During this long speech the Greek made neither sound nor movement, but, like a beaten hound, cowered before the lash of Justinian’s scornful words. When the Demarch ended, he raised his head with a bitter smile on his pallid face, and flung out his hand threateningly towards the speaker.
“You do well, Justinian, to say you are prepared,” he said in a hoarse voice; “you do well to be on your guard; for I swear by the Panagia herself to ruin you and your schemes before the end of another month. Had you been true to me, I would have remained true to you; but now”—