"Get up, fellow," snapped Demetrius; "I'm not one of those crocodile-headed Egyptian gods that they grovel before in the Nile country. My cousin Agias here says he knows you. Now answer—are you a Greek?"
"I am an Athenian born."
"Don't you think I can smell your Doric accent by that broad alpha? You are a Sicilian, I'll be bound!"
Phaon made a motion of sorrowful assent.
"Phui!" continued Demetrius, "tell me, Agias, is this the creature that tried to murder Quintus Drusus?"
Agias nodded.
"A fit minister for such a man as I imagine the son of Lucius Domitius to be. Eurybiades, take off that fellow's bands; he is not worth one stroke of the sword."
"The captain will not spare the knave!" remonstrated the sanguinary lieutenant.
"What I have said, I have said," retorted the other; then, when Phaon's arms hung free, "See, on the strength of our fellowship in our both being Greeks, I have set you at large!"
Phaon again sank to his knees to proffer thanks.