“There is the dowry to settle,” interposed Parthenios.
“The girl gets no dowry from me,” said Prince Christodoridi laconically.
“Quite so,” said Armitage. “I marry the Lady Danaë without dowry. That is decided. I absolutely refuse to accept anything with her.”
“But why? There is no reason for it, lord, and among us such a thing——”
“Milordo has said that he is willing to take her without a dowry,” said Danaë’s father roughly.
“Certainly no one could expect you to force a dowry upon the bridegroom, lord,” said Kyrios Loukas. “Here we are all poor men, but we know how rich the English are, and if he does not require it, why, let us commend his moderation.”
“I refuse to take even a lepta,” said Armitage. “May I walk down the hill with you, friend godfather?” he asked of Parthenios. “You will have to instruct me in all my duties.”
“Yes, come, lord,” said the old man hastily. “Your boat will be at the quay at nine o’clock, but you will take a little supper with me first.”
“My daughter’s bridegroom will sup here,” said Prince Christodoridi, but Armitage shook his head.
“I take no food under this roof until my wedding-feast, lord,” he replied, and for once Prince Christodoridi’s fierce eyes sank abashed. His hospitality had been slighted, and he could not resent it. Armitage bade good-night to him and to his friends with marked formality, and took the arm of Kyrios Parthenios as they went out of the gate. “There are some things that are too much for flesh and blood,” he said. “The Despot has treated that poor girl and me infamously, and I won’t break bread in his house until I can do it with her.”