He paused abruptly, and, raising his hands, shook them impotently at the sky, then resumed his seat with a frown, which boded ill for Caliphronas in the event of any double dealing on his part being discovered. A peacock came walking proudly along the court, with his splendid tail erect, shining like some rich product of the Eastern loom, with its manifold colors, fantastic moons, and iridescent sheen, which flashed gloriously in the sunshine. Evidently irritated at not being noticed, the vain bird uttered a discordant shriek, which had the effect of making his master look up suddenly. “Ha, Argos!” he said, with a sardonic smile; “you are like Andros, my friend, fine to look at and nothing else. But it would be as easy to wring your neck, with all your bravery, as it would that of my handsome scamp yonder.” The bird strutted proudly along, the feathers of its neck glistening with every movement of its head. “You have many eyes, my Argos,” resumed Justinian, after a pause, “but your human prototype has none at all. He sees no farther than his own straight nose, else he would be more cautious in his deeds, and less daring in his words. It looks as if he were going to dispute my will; well, he can do so, and we will see who will come off best—Andros or Justinian.” At this moment Maurice and the poet entered the court, whereupon Argos fled in dismay. “An omen!” thought Justinian, as he arose to receive them; “with these I need not fear the machinations of Peacock Andros.” The two gentlemen, refreshed by their bath and a hearty meal, were now arrayed in loose, flowing robes of white wool, similar to that of Justinian. Crispin wore this antique garb gracefully enough, very evidently used to managing such draperies; but Maurice found them awkward, and as he sat down seemed rather ashamed of the effeminacy of the dress. The King noticed this, and smiled broadly at the Englishman’s want of dexterity. “You do not like these?” he said, touching his own robe lightly; “but, believe me, they are very comfortable within doors in this climate. When you go out to look at my island, I will supply you with a less embarrassing dress—more adapted for walking and climbing.” “I like my legs to be free, sir,” observed Maurice, striving to look at his ease in these long white draperies, whereon Justinian laughed again at this naïve confession. “Yes; we English are an active race,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “and like all clothing to be tight and trig; but indoors you will find these flowing robes more adaptable than a shooting suit would be. When one is in the East, one should adopt Eastern customs. For myself, I have become a Sybarite in luxury since dwelling in Melnos.” “Where is Caliphronas?” asked Crispin, looking about him for the Greek. “Caliphronas? Oh yes; I forgot his travelling-name. A count, is he not, of the Greek Empire? He took a fine name to match his fine feathers. Well, Andros has just left me in a fit of bad temper.”