“He means me!” said a gorgeous individual, all green velvet jacket, and gold braid, and red sash, with a cap set rakishly on the side of his head in the front of which glittered a diamond of surpassing brilliancy.
We had noticed this individual before, but not especially, and he had been rather hidden by the figure of the man we looked upon as the leader: now he stepped forward, and we could see his face plainly, as we recognised the voice.
Who do you think it was?
Why, Stephanos Pericles, the man whom we had saved from drowning, and who had sent us those handsome presents!
“Why have we met with this treatment at your hands?” said papa, puzzled at the Greek’s behaviour.
“You have nothing to complain of,” said Stephanos, with an air of courteous nobility which exasperated the captain to that degree that I saw him clenching and unclenching his fists, and dancing about, as Mr Moynham said afterwards, “like a hen on a hot griddle.”
“My dear sir, you have nothing really to complain of,” said the Greek. “You saved my life, I admit, and I think I politely expressed my obligations at the time. In return I now present you with five lives, independently of that of the dog, which, I am sorry to see, has been hurt.”
“But the ransom?” said dad.
“Oh, I’m sorry I had to insist on that,” said Stephanos, placidly; “but it is one of our rules to enforce such in all cases, and I’m sorry that I could not let you off, although my friendship yearned to set you free without it. You must really please excuse the treatment you have met with. If I had known who honoured me with their company, I’m sure you would have had no reason to be dissatisfied with my hospitality. The next time you favour me with your presence, my lord—”
“The next time you catch me here, or anywhere else on Greek ground,” laughed my father in a hearty “Ho! ho!” in which all of us joined, “you may cut me up into kabobs and cook and eat me, and welcome; for I know I’ll then deserve it!”