“What about my dear Alcibiades?” sneered the Greek significantly. Crispin stopped, and looked Caliphronas up and down with scorn. “You had better not say any more, Andros, or I may be tempted to tell Justinian of your intention.” “All I say is not meant,” cried Caliphronas in evident alarm; “but Justinian cannot go back from his word about Helena.” “Helena!” said Maurice, who had hitherto kept silence. “What about Helena?” “Nothing to do with you, sir,” retorted Caliphronas rudely, and walked on quickly. “What does he mean?” asked Maurice, turning to Crispin with a frown. “Nothing more than what I told you on The Eunice, when we were off Taygetus.” “You told me Caliphronas loved Helena; but this promise”— “That has to do with Justinian,” said Crispin hastily; “you must ask him for information. After all, Maurice, you had better wait and see how things turn out before you cross swords with Caliphronas.” “Ah! you think, then, we will cross swords?” “I fancy it is extremely probable. This Helena will be an apple of discord, as was her predecessor of Troy. But, however much you two men fight for her, remember it is the lady herself who decides whom she will take.” “If she is the woman I judge her to be from her pure face, she will never take that scamp of a Greek.” “Oh ho! that is as much as to say she will take you, my Lord Conceit; but never mind Helena just now. We have to get into the good graces of Justinian, or else”— “Well?” asked Maurice, seeing Crispin paused significantly; “what will happen?” “I can’t tell yet; but, after all, why anticipate evil?” “Crispin, you are as ambiguous as a Delphic oracle.” “And about as doubtful,” retorted the poet, laughing. “But here we are at the Acropolis.” “Well, I’m darned!” observed Gurt in astonishment; and his exclamation of surprise was certainly pardonable, for no one would have expected to find so splendid a building in this lonely island of the Ægean Sea.