When King Witichis readied the camp, he found it almost in a state of anarchy.

The pressing need of the moment forcibly roused him from his grief, and gave him sufficient occupation.

He found the army split into numerous parties, and on the point of dissolution. He acknowledged to himself that, if he had abdicated, or abandoned the camp, the complete ruin of the Gothic cause would have been the consequence. He found many of the troops already on the point of departure. Some were about to join Earl Grippa in Ravenna; others to go over to the rebels; others again to fly across the Alps. Many spoke of the choice of a new king, and here, too, the different parties opposed each other with threats of violence.

Hildebrand and Hildebad still kept together those who did not believe in the flight of the King. The old master-at-arms had declared that if Witichis had really deserted them, he would not rest until he had dealt to him the punishment of Theodoric, while Hildebad rated at those who could believe Witichis capable of such baseness.

They had guarded the roads to the city and to the rebel camp, and threatened to oppose force to every movement in those directions; while Duke Guntharis, having heard a report of the confusion, was already advancing against the royal camp.

Everywhere Witichis found discontented groups of troops on the point of departure; everywhere he heard words of blame and beheld uplifted weapons. At any moment the camp might become a scene of bloodshed.

Quickly resolved, he hurried to his tent, adorned himself with the coroneted helmet and the golden sceptre, mounted Boreas, his powerful charger, and galloped through the lines of tents, followed by Teja, who bore the blue banner of Theodoric.

In the middle of the camp they met with a crowd of men, women, and children--for the latter generally accompanied a Gothic army--who, murmuring and threatening, were moving towards the western gate.

Hildebad had sent his soldiers to bar this gate with levelled lances.

"Let us go out," cried the people. "The King has fled, the war is over, all is lost. We will save our lives."

"The King is no coward like thee!" cried Hildebad, pushing back the nearest man.

"Yes, he is a traitor!" cried the latter. "He has forsaken and betrayed us for the sake of a woman's tears."

"Yes," said another, "he has killed three thousand of our brothers and has fled."

"Thou liest!" said a quiet voice. Witichis had turned the corner of a tent.

"Hail, King Witichis!" cried Hildebad. "Do you see him, you rabble? Did I not tell you? But it was high time thou camest--things were getting to a desperate pass."

Just then Hildebrand came galloping up with a few horsemen.

"Hail, King Witichis!" he cried, and turning to his companions--"Hasten, heralds, through the camp," said he, "and tell what you have seen; and all the people will cry: 'Hail, Witichis, our faithful King!'"

But Witichis turned from him with a look of anguish.

The heralds galloped away in all directions, and shortly there arose through the whole camp the thundering shout, "Hail, King Witichis!" Even those who had just been murmuring joined unanimously in the cry.

Witichis listened to these acclamations with a look full of pride and pain, and Teja whispered to him: "Now thou seest that thou hast saved the kingdom."

"Up! lead us to victory!" cried Hildebad, "for Guntharis and Arahad approach! They think to surprise us without a chief and in complete disorder. At them! They shall find themselves mistaken. At them! and down with the rebels!"

"Down with the rebels!" thundered the soldiers, glad to find an outlet for their excited passions.

But the King made a sign.

"Peace! No more shall Gothic blood flow from wounds made by Gothic weapons. Wait patiently here. Thou, Hildebad, open the gate for me. None shall follow me. I alone go to the rebels. Thou, Earl Teja, control the troops until I return. But thou, Hildebrand," he cried, raising his voice, "ride to the gates of Ravenna, and loudly bid them open. Their desire is fulfilled, and, before evening, we will enter: King Witichis and Queen Mataswintha."

He spoke these words with such sorrowful dignity, that the hearers received them in reverent silence.

Hildebad opened the gate of the camp. Without could be discerned the rebels, approaching at a quick march; loudly sounded their war-cry as the gate opened.

King Witichis gave his sword to Earl Teja, and rode slowly to meet them. The gate closed behind him.

"He seeks death," whispered Hildebad.

"No," said Teja, "he seeks the salvation of the Goths."

On recognising the solitary horseman, the rebels were amazed. Near the brothers--who marched at the head of the troops--rode the chief of the Avarian archers. He held his hand over his small and twinkling eyes and cried:

"By the horse of the war-god, that is the King himself! Now, my boys, sons of the steppes, aim well, and the war is over!" and he quickly took his bow from his shoulder.

"Stop, Chan Warchun," cried Duke Guntharis, laying his mailed hand upon the other's shoulder. "Thou hast sadly erred twice in the same breath. Thou hast called Earl Witichis the King: that may be forgiven thee. Thou wouldst murder him who comes as a messenger of peace. That may be Avarian, but is not Gothic custom. Away with thee and thy troop out of my camp!"

The Chan started and looked at Guntharis in astonishment.

"Away, at once!" repeated Duke Guntharis.

The Avarian laughed and signed to his horsemen.

"'Tis all one to me. Children, we go to Belisarius. Queer people, these Goths! Giant bodies with children's hearts!"

Meanwhile Witichis had ridden up.

Guntharis and Arahad looked at him inquiringly.

Unusual solemnity was added to the customary simple dignity of his manner; the majesty of deep grief.

"I come to speak with you of the welfare of the Goths. Brother shall slay brother no more. Let us enter Ravenna together, and together conquer Belisarius. I shall wed Mataswintha, and you two shall stand nearest to my throne."

"Never!" cried Arahad passionately.

"Thou forgettest," said Duke Guntharis proudly, "that thy bride is in our tents."

"Duke Guntharis of Tuscany, I might answer that shortly we shall be in your tents. We are more numerous and not less brave than you, and, Duke, we have right on our side. I will not speak of that, but only warn you of the fate of the Goths. Should you conquer us, you are too weak to conquer Belisarius. Even united, we are scarcely strong enough for that. Give way!"

"It is for thee to give way," said the WÖlfung. "If thou lovest the Goths, lay down thy crown. Canst thou make no sacrifice for thy people?"

"I can. I have done so. Hast thou a wife, O Guntharis?"

"I have a dear wife."

"I too! I had a dear wife. I have sacrificed her to my people. I have sent her away, in order to woo Mataswintha."

Duke Guntharis was silent.

But Arahad cried: "Then thou hast never loved her!"

Witichis started; the force of his grief and his love redoubled. His cheeks flushed, and casting an annihilating look at the alarmed youth, he cried:

"Talk not to me of love! Blaspheme not, thou foolish boy! Because red lips and white limbs flash before thee in thy dreams, darest thou to speak of love? What knowest thou of what I have lost in this wife, the mother of my sweet child? A world of love and faith! Irritate me not. My heart is sore. I control my pain and despair with difficulty. Do not exasperate them, or they will break loose!"

Duke Guntharis had become very thoughtful.

"I knew thee, Witichis, in the wars with the GepidÆ. Never saw I ignoble man deal such noble strokes. I know that there is nought false in thee. I know the love which binds a man to a good wife. And thou hast sacrificed such a wife to thy people? That is much!"

"Brother, of what thinkest thou?" cried Arahad. "What dost thou intend to do?"

"I intend not to allow the House of the WÖlfungs to be outdone in generosity. Noble blood, Arahad, demands noble acts! Tell me one thing more, Witichis. Wherefore hast thou not rather sacrificed thy crown, even thy life, than thy wife?"

"Because it would have been the certain destruction of the kingdom. Twice I would have yielded the crown to Earl Arahad; twice the leaders of my army swore that they would never acknowledge him. Three, four Gothic kings might have been chosen, but, by my honour, Earl Arahad would never have been acknowledged. Then I tore my wife from my bleeding heart; and now, Duke Guntharis, remember thou also the people of the Goths. The House of the WÖlfungs is lost if the Goths are lost. If Belisarius lay the axe to the roots of the trunk, the noblest branches will fall too. I have renounced my wife, the crown of my life; renounce thou the hope of a crown!"

"It shall not be sung in the halls of the Goths that the freedman Witichis was more self-sacrificing than the chief of the nobility! The strife is at an end; I greet thee, my King."

And the proud Duke bent his knee to Witichis, who raised him and pressed him to his heart.

"Brother! brother! what shame thou dost me!" cried Arahad.

"I look upon it as an honour," said Guntharis quietly. "And as a sign that my King sees no cowardice, but rather nobleness, in my homage, I beg a favour. Amelungs and Balthes have ousted my family from the place which belonged to it among the people of the Goths."

"At this moment," answered Witichis, "thou hast redeemed that place. The Goths shall never forget that the generosity of the WÖlfungs has saved them from a civil war."

"And, as a sign of this, thou wilt give us the right to bear the standard of the Goths before the troops in every battle?"

"Be it so," said the King, giving him his right hand; "and none can be more worthy."

"Thanks, O King! Let us now go to Mataswintha."

"Mataswintha!" cried Arahad, who had looked on at this reconciliation, which buried all his hopes, in dismay. "Ha! you remind me at the right time. You can take the crown from me--let it go--but not my love, and not the duty of protecting my beloved. She has refused me, but I shall love her until death! I have protected her from my brother, who would have forced her to wed me. No less faithfully will I protect her now if you two attempt to force her to give her hand to my hated enemy. That hand, which is dearer to me than all the crowns of the world, shall be free!"

And he quickly mounted his horse, and galloped off to the camp.

Witichis looked after him anxiously.

"Let him go," said Duke Guntharis; "we two, united, have nothing to fear. Let us now reconcile the troops, since the leaders are friends."

While Guntharis first led the King through his lines of troops, and called upon them at once to do him homage, which they did with joy, and afterwards Witichis took the WÖlfung and his leaders with him into his camp, where the victory so peacefully gained was looked upon as miraculous, Arahad collected together a small troop of about a hundred horsemen, who were faithfully attached to him, and galloped back with them to his camp.

He soon reached the tent of Mataswintha, who indignantly rose at his entrance.

"Be not angry. Princess. This time thou hast no right to be so. Arahad comes to fulfil his last duty. Fly! thou must follow me!" And, in the impetuosity of his excitement, he grasped her small white hand.

Mataswintha receded a step, and laid her hand upon the broad golden girdle which confined her white under-garment.

"Fly?" she asked. "Fly whither?"

"Over the sea! over the Alps! Anywhere for liberty; for thy liberty is endangered."

"Only by thee!"

"By me no longer; and I can protect thee no more. So long as only my happiness was at stake, I could be cruel to myself and honour thy will. But now----"

"But now?" repeated Mataswintha, turning pale.

"They intend thee for another. My brother, the army, and our enemies in Ravenna and the opposite camp, are all agreed. Soon a thousand voices will call thee, the victim, to the bridal altar. I cannot bear to think of it! Such a soul, such beauty, a sacrifice to an unloved marriage bond!"

"Let them come!" said Mataswintha. "We will see if they can force me!" And she pressed the dagger which she carried in her girdle to her heart. "Who is the new despot who threatens me?"

"Do not ask!" cried Arahad. "Thy enemy, who is not worthy of thee; who does not love thee; he--but follow me--fly! They already approach!"

Horses' hoofs were heard outside.

"I remain! Who can force the will of the grandchild of Theodoric?"

"No; thou shalt not, must not, fall into the hands of those heartless men, who value neither thee nor thy beauty, but only thy right to the crown. Follow me----"

At this moment the curtain at the entrance of the tent was pushed aside. Earl Teja entered. Two Gothic boys, dressed in festive garments of white silk, followed him; they bore a purple cushion, covered with a veil.

Teja advanced to the middle of the tent, and kneeled before Mataswintha. He, like the boys, wore a green spray of rue round his helmet. But his eyes and brow were gloomy, as he said:

"I greet thee. Queen of the Goths and Italians!"

Mataswintha looked at him amazed.

Teja rose, went up to the boys, took a golden circlet and a green wreath of rue from the cushion, and said:

"I give thee the bridal wreath and the crown, Mataswintha, and invite thee to the wedding and coronation; the litter awaits thee."

Arahad laid his hand on his sword.

"Who sends thee?" asked Mataswintha, with a beating heart, but her hand upon her dagger.

"Who but Witichis, the King of the Goths?"

On hearing this a ray of ineffable joy shone from Mataswintha's beautiful eyes. She raised both hands to heaven and cried:

"Thanks, O heaven! Thy stars and my true heart are not belied. I knew it!"

She took the coronet into her white hands and pressed it firmly upon her golden hair.

"I am ready," she said. "Lead me to thy master and mine."

And she majestically held out her hand to Earl Teja, who reverently led her out of the tent.

But Arahad looked after her in speechless wonder as she disappeared, his hand still upon his sword.

He was roused by the entrance of Eurich, one of his followers, who came up to him, and laying his hand upon his shoulder, asked:

"What now? The horses stand and wait. Whither?"

"Whither?" exclaimed Arahad, starting; "whither? There is only one way, and that we will take. To the Byzantines and death!"