“Turncoat?”
“Well, well, report speaks queerly at times. Had you been wise, you would have hesitated to compromise yourself upon pressure of his. But it is customary for monarchs to yield to the blandishments of their ministers. This understanding is the basis of the throne. Yours, my friend, is not stable.”
“You forget that I am a monarch of a realm that knows neither ministry nor change. By the way, I sent that young man off to Tenos to-day.”
“That’s another bold stroke. You are too fond of random shots. Beware of bringing down the wrong bird.”
Selaka flushed darkly, and frowned in a threatening manner.
“You have the merit of making yourself understood.”
“I always endeavour to do so, Constantine. Good-bye, before we quarrel. Come and dine with me this evening.”
The doctors shook hands perfunctorily. Selaka was profoundly troubled by these hints against the political constancy of his friend and adviser. He had sagacity enough to believe that Galenides would not speak without some justification for his doubts. It was widely known that Galenides was in the confidence of the Minister. Zeus! Could Oïdas have bought him over?
He kept a keen lookout for any casual evidence of disloyalty or coldness. For some days depression lay heavily on his spirits, and a telegram from Pericles announcing the safe arrival of the stranger, only temporarily lifted the gloom.
The week was spent in canvassing on his own account, and everywhere he met with proofs of his follower’s remissness on his behalf. He taxed Stavros with faithlessness, and his chequered feelings were promptly whipped back into confidence by the other’s cordiality and grave assurance.—He desert a friend! Might the soul of his father appear to him that night, and announce eternal perdition to him, if he could be guilty of such meanness! Might hell’s flames encompass him, and the remainder of his days be in shadow! He thumped his chest violently, showed by a crimson cheek the wound upon his honour, and the flame of resentment was in his tawny eyes.