He was not prepared with further questions, and she retired in mild triumph, to take her place with Janni on one of the mules. Wylie’s obvious suspicions put her on her mettle. She was far too clever to make palpable efforts to disarm them, but set herself to learn all she could of her new surroundings, that she might provide against further attempts to take her by surprise. From some of the guards who could speak Greek she discovered, much to her astonishment, that the position of the Theophanis family was by no means that of dependants upon Prince Romanos. They were the recognised rulers of the northern or Slav portion of the principality, raising troops and administering justice, though in subjection to the Therma Government. Danaë’s assertion of their inferior lot was laughed to scorn, and she was informed, to her great indignation, that the brunt of the struggle for freedom in the Hagiamavra peninsula, the glory of which she had always believed to be her brother’s peculiar possession, had been borne by them. Why they had allowed themselves to be defeated in the plébiscite that followed, when their followers would gladly have manipulated the voting in their favour, no one quite knew, but it was understood that they had weighty and cunning reasons for accepting temporarily a subordinate place, from which they would emerge as undisputed masters of the whole of Emathia. Danaë’s heart leaped when she heard this. To the glory of saving Janni should be added that of unmasking the plot which threatened her brother’s rule, and she would return to Therma doubly a deliverer.
Information regarding the family life of her hereditary foes was equally easy to obtain. Prince Theophanis and the Lord Glafko were inseparable friends, neither taking any action without consulting the other. It was shrewdly suspected that this complete unity was not altogether to the taste of the Lady Eirene, the Prince’s wife. Her title to represent the Imperial line was equal, if not superior, to his, and she was believed to advocate a much more energetic policy than that pursued by her husband and his friend. But much less had been heard of her views and wishes since the death of her little son at the time of the apparent collapse of the family fortunes, and the guards considered that she had learnt to accept the inferior place proper to a childless woman. Her sister-in-law, the Lady Zoe, ranked far higher in the estimation of the Emathians, since in the veins of her son ran the blood not only of the Theophanis Emperors but of their adored Glafko, whom they handsomely credited with having led them to victory in Hagiamavra. To Danaë’s ears this feeling supplied only the crowning proof of the impiety and heresy of the Slavs among the Emathians. They could welcome a mere ordinary Englishman, schismatic to the backbone, without one drop of royal blood, as the ancestor of their future Emperors! Little did they know that the child she held in her arms could trace his descent through a succession of Despots of Strio and Venetian Patricians of unbroken Orthodoxy, until—— A chill seized her as she remembered Janni’s schismatic mother, but after all, that mother was dead, and the obvious course was to declare that she had been Orthodox from her youth up.
A new idea for Janni’s future suggested itself to Danaë’s active mind on the journey. The child had taken a great fancy to Prince Theophanis, and held out his arms whenever he came near—an invitation which the bereaved father could never neglect. The jealous pang which seized Danaë at first soon gave place to approval. If Prince Theophanis should wish to adopt Janni! The ironical prospect of his bringing up his rival’s son to supplant himself, and unconsciously destroying the prospects of his own nephew, gave her the keenest delight. She spared no pains to deepen the fondness of the man and the child for each other, but it was impossible to find out whether the Prince had any such thought as she desired in his mind.
“Ah, lord, take care of him!” she said impulsively one day, as he bent to lift Janni before him on his horse. “He is greater than he seems.”
A whimsical smile crossed the Prince’s face. “And are you also greater than you seem, Kalliopé?” he asked her.
“I am only a poor servant-girl, lord. Do not mock me!” she entreated, covering her very real confusion by a hasty retreat.
“There’s something mighty queer about her, whatever she is,” said Wylie, looking after her. “If she has been coached in all she says, the plot is too deep for my poor brain.”
“It was awfully good of the plotters to send us this little chap, at any rate,” said the Prince. “I wonder whether Eirene could bring herself to take to him?”
“I don’t know whether she could, but she certainly won’t. No, I beg your pardon, Maurice; I had no right to say that. When she sees how fond you are of him——”
“That would make no difference,” said Maurice sharply.