“No, my name is not German, I merely adopted a German name in coming to Greece so that I might not wound national susceptibilities, and bring upon myself unnecessary coldness. My name is Daoud Bey. Kyria Selaka, what difference can this make? I love not Inarime the less because my people once oppressed yours. I am not responsible for the blunders of generations. You do not surely imagine that I am less likely to cherish and reverence your daughter than one of her own countrymen? Rather do I believe that the very fact of the past wrongs that her race endured at the hands of mine will add to my solemn charge on the day she entrusts herself to my care. That it shall not be for her grief you may believe, for I love her. Besides, you must think of Inarime, if even you refuse to think of me. For now she is mine, and nothing in regard to my nationality or race can alter that fact. You must accept it.”
“I do not accept it,” said Selaka, “my daughter will not marry a Turk. I have said it.” Words of reproach for the lateness of the avowal were on his lips but he repressed the natural retort “you have deceived me.”
“Is this your decision?” asked Gustav, growing chill with fright.
“It is my decision.”
“Then I will only abide by the voice of Inarime. If she bids me go, I will go even without her, but not otherwise. You may be her father, but I am her lover. You have the claim of long years of devoted care and affection, and I have but the claim of a moment of transcendent passion. But, sir, your claim weighed with mine would prove but a feather as opposed to the barque of love on the waters of destiny!”
“No, I think not,” said Selaka. “Inarime will see your race in her lover, and she will not take your name, whatever the effort of parting may cost her.”
“Kyrie Selaka,” cried Gustav, with frantic urgency, “I have but one request to make you, and you must grant it. Not one word of this will be uttered to Inarime; she will only hear from my lips of that which you regard as an impassable barrier to our union.”
Selaka shot a swift inquiry in the direction of his sister.
“I think,” said Helen, “we may accede to this demand. It is reasonable, and it does the young man credit that he should urge it.”