“Ah, that’s just it, my child! He does not desire an island so much as you.”
“He will never get me,” she answered resolutely. “Sooner than become the wife of that traitor, I would throw myself over the cliff.”
“You can rest quite content, Helena,” said Maurice, with quiet determination; “if Caliphronas overwhelms Melnos with his forces, he shall not obtain the prize he desires. If he captures you, it will be over my dead body.”
“Then he’ll never capture me, for you can easily conquer such a coward,” retorted the girl, with great spirit; “and, after all, I don’t believe he’ll have the courage to come back.”
“Uncle,” exclaimed Roylands suddenly, as he saw Justinian stumble, “what is the matter? Do you feel ill?”
“Not exactly ill,” replied the Demarch, taking his nephew’s arm; “but, to tell you the truth, I awoke this morning feeling very sick and faint.”
“Why, papa, so did I!” exclaimed Helena in surprise; “that is why I came down to the cliffs to obtain a breath of fresh air.”
“I also had a headache when I awoke,” said Maurice, after a pause; “so, as we have all felt the same thing, there must be some malaria in the air.”
Justinian gave a cry of alarm, and his face blanched white under its bronze.
“Oh, Maurice! I dread to think what it may be!”