Maurice believed in the Greek, the Rector doubted him, and Crispin knew his worthlessness thoroughly, so among the three of them the character of Caliphronas was pretty well analyzed. From Maurice, the steady, respectable Englishman, with occasional lapses of artistic wildness, to Caliphronas, the brilliant cosmopolitan adventurer, was a long step. Crispin stood midway between the two, as he had a certain amount of British phlegmatism, with at times those wild impulses which come from a wandering life and an intellectual nature. Still, he could control his spontaneity, while Caliphronas, obeying his own undisciplined mind, did whatever came into his head; yet, if any one was scandalized by such unconventionality, he would at once obtain forgiveness by the graceful way in which he apologized.
“It is impossible to be angry with you,” said Maurice to him one day, when the Count had been guilty of some ridiculous escapade, “and yet you deserve to be sharply spoken to. But you are a child in many ways, and we cannot be angry with a child.”
“There you are right, my dear Mr. Maurice,” replied Caliphronas, smiling. “I am a child, but that is as much as to say, I am a Greek. You remember what the Egyptian priest said to Solon,—‘You Greeks are always children.’ Therefore, if I am a child, and act impulsively like a child, blame my nationality, not myself.”
“I expect you could be a very bad child if you wanted to!” said Crispin, overhearing this defence.
Caliphronas darted a spiteful look at the speaker.
“Very likely,” he replied in a meaning tone; “but those who dread stings should not disturb the wasps’ nest.”
There was a distinct menace in his tone, but Crispin felt too confident of having the upper hand to take much notice of this venom, and merely laughed, much to the wrath of the Greek. However, as the time was not yet ripe for action, he restrained his anger, and behaved so amiably to Crispin that it was only the knowledge the poet possessed of his true character that made him mistrust the suave smiles and kindly actions of this Greek Machiavelli.
Caliphronas was an amphibious creature, and lived quite as much in the water as on the shore. Whenever he had the time to spare, he went off to Brasdimir for a dip in the sea, and would plunge and wallow in the water like a dolphin. Fortunately that summer at Roylands was unusually hot, and what with the cloudless skies, the burning sun, and the delicate emerald tints of foliage, grass, and herb, Caliphronas might well have imagined that he was still in his beloved Greece, bathing off some pebbly beach of the Ægean.