“Sir, you insult the lady!” broke forth his son. “Permit me to present you to the Princess Zoe Theophanis.”
“What! one of the English impostors? Why, this is worse than I believed. Miserable boy, have you no pride of race? is the honour of your house nothing to you? Can’t you see that it is the one chance of these—these——” Prince Christodoridi choked back the word upon his lips, and replaced it weakly with “these impostors—to draw you into their coils, to make it appear that we—we the Christodoridis—think them fit to marry with? You, who can show an unbroken Greek and Orthodox descent from Eudoxia Theophanis, think it no shame to seek in marriage the daughter of a race of schismatics!”
“Perhaps I may as well say that I have no intention whatever of marrying your son. In fact, the question had not arisen,” said Zoe. “I will leave you to discuss your family matters together.”
“Wait one moment!” cried the old man, placing himself in her way. “I know how you and this degenerate son of mine think to laugh at me behind my back and carry out your plans, but remember this. I will acknowledge no such marriage, and if you venture to set foot on the island of Strio, you may land, but you will never leave it again. I am lord of life and death on my own ground. When the first King of Morea tried to enforce the conscription among the Striotes, my father sent him back a boat-load of his soldiers’ heads, and if I furnish twenty sailors yearly to the Morean navy, it is by virtue of a treaty as between equals. Therefore bear in mind that Strio has dungeons as well as a palace.”
“It sounds interesting,” said Zoe, with a sigh; “but if marrying your son is the only way of getting there, I am never likely to see Strio, I fear. Would you kindly——?”
Prince Christodoridi obeyed the gesture and stood aside, and Zoe descended the steps slowly. A change seemed to have passed over Prince Romanos with her departure, and he beckoned authoritatively to his father.
“Come to the other end of the terrace and let us talk. You are satisfied now, I suppose? You renounce the prospect of the imperial throne rather than disgorge a few of the hoarded coins which my grandfather gained by piracy——”
“Hush, hush!” said his father, looking round apprehensively.
“Oh, I am not accusing you of piracy—you know the Powers would blow Strio out of the water if you tried it. You refuse even to allow me any help towards asserting our rights, and when I lay a plan for profiting by the efforts of these people here, you come to spoil it.”
“You shall not marry a schismatic,” was the obstinate reply.