Early next morning Rome and the Gothic encampment were equally full of life and movement.

Mataswintha and Syphax had learned somewhat, and had imparted it to Cethegus; but they had not known all.

They had heard of the plot of the three Goths against the life of Belisarius, and of the earlier plan of a sham assault upon the Gate of St. Paul.

But they had not heard that the King, changing his plan, had determined to take advantage of the absence of the great general, in order to try if Gothic heroism were not yet able to conquer the fortifications and the genius of Belisarius.

In the council of war, no one had deceived himself as to the importance and risk of the undertaking upon which they had determined; for if, like all former ones--and Procopius had already counted sixty battles, sallies, assaults and skirmishes--this last attempt failed, no further exertion could be demanded from the harassed and greatly diminished army.

For this reason they had, at Teja's advice, taken an oath to keep their plan a profound secret, and thus Mataswintha had learned nothing from the King.

Even the keen senses of the Moor had been unable to scent out that anything of importance was in preparation for that day--the Gothic troops themselves knew not what.

Totila, Hildebad, and Teja had started with their horsemen during the night, and had placed themselves in ambush on the south of the Valerian Way, in a hollow near the tomb of the Fulvias, through which Belisarius would necessarily pass. They hoped to have finished their task soon enough to be able to take an important part in the events which were impending against the city.

While the King, with Hildebrand, Guntharis, and Markja, was mustering the troops within the camp, Belisarius marched at daybreak out of the Tiburtinian Gate, surrounded by part of his body-guard.

Procopius and Severinus rode on his right and left; Aigan, the Massagetian, bore his banner, which accompanied the magister militum on all occasions.

Constantinus, to whom he had entrusted the care of the "Belisarian" part of Rome during his absence, doubled all the posts along the walls, and placed his troops under arms close to the ramparts. He sent word to the Prefect to do the same with the Byzantines under his command.

His messenger met Cethegus upon the walls between the Appian Gate and the Gate of St. Paul.

"So Belisarius thinks," said Cethegus sarcastically, as he obeyed the order, "that Rome cannot be safe unless he guard it! But I think that Belisarius would be in evil plight, had I not protected my Rome. Come, Lucius Licinius," he whispered to the latter, "we must decide upon what we must do should Belisarius fail to return from his ride. In that case, a firm hand must be laid upon the Byzantine army."

"I know whose hand will do it."

"It may perhaps lead to a short struggle with those of the body-guard still in Rome; either in the Baths of Diocletian or at the Tiburtinian Gate. They must be crushed before they have time to reflect. Take three thousand of my Isaurians, and divide them, without attracting attention, round about the Baths, and, above all things, occupy the Tiburtinian Gate."

"But whence shall I withdraw the men?"

"From the Mausoleum of Hadrian," said Cethegus after a moment's reflection.

"And the Goths?"

"Bah! the Mausoleum is strong; it will protect itself, for the assaulters must first get over the river to the south, and then climb those smooth walls of Parian marble, in which the Greek and I take such pride. And besides," he added with a smile, "look up! There stands a host of marble gods and heroes; they may themselves protect their temple against the barbarians. Do you see? I told you it would be so. The Goths only think of attacking the Gate of St. Paul," he concluded, pointing towards the Gothic camp, whence, just at that moment, a strong division marched out in the direction he mentioned.

Licinius obeyed his orders, and soon led three thousand Isaurians--perhaps the half of the garrison of the Mausoleum--over the river and the Viminalian Hill in the direction of the Baths of Diocletian. He then replaced Belisarius's Armenians at the Tiburtinian Gate by three hundred Isaurians and legionaries.

But Cethegus turned to the Salarian Gate, where Constantinus now remained as the representative of Belisarius.

"I must have him out of the way," said Cethegus to himself, "when the news arrives.--When you have repulsed the barbarians," he said aloud to Constantinus, "no doubt you will make a sally. What an opportunity to gather laurels while your commander is yet at a distance!"

"Yes," said Constantinus, "they shall see that we can fight, even without Belisarius."

"But you must aim with more composure," said Cethegus, turning to a Persian archer and taking his bow. "Do you see that Goth, the leader on horseback? He shall fall."

Cethegus drew the bow. The Goth fell from his horse, pierced through the neck by the arrow.

"And you use my shooting-machines clumsily too! Do you see that oak-tree? A leader of one of the Gothic thousands is standing beneath it, clad in a coat of mail. Pay attention!"

He directed the machine; aimed and shot. The mailed Goth was pierced through and through, and nailed to the tree.

Just then a Saracen horseman rode quickly up below the wall.

"Archon," he cried to Constantinus, "Bessas begs for reinforcements for the PrÆnestinian Gate! The Goths are advancing."

Constantinus looked doubtfully at Cethegus.

"Pshaw!" said the latter; "the only attack to be feared will be made upon the Gate of St. Paul, and that is well defended, I am certain. Tell Bessas that he is scared too soon. Besides, I have six lions, ten tigers and twelve bears in the Vivarium waiting for the next feast at the Circus. Let them loose upon the barbarians for the present. It will afford a spectacle for the Romans."

But now one of the body-guard hurried up from Mons Pincius.

"Help, sir. Help, Constantinus! your own gate, the Flaminian, is in danger! Countless barbarians! Ursicinus begs for assistance!"

"There too?" asked Cethegus incredulously.

"Reinforcements for the broken walls between the Flaminian and the Pincian Gates!" cried a second messenger, also sent by Ursicinus.

"You need not defend that part. You know that it stands under the special protection of St. Peter; that will suffice," said Constantinus encouragingly.

Cethegus smiled.

"Yes, to-day most surely; for it will not be attacked at all."

"Prefect!" cried Marcus Licinius, who just then hurried up, out of breath; "quick to the Capitol! I have just come thence. All the seven camps of the enemy are vomiting Goths from every exit. A general storm is intended upon all the gates of Rome."

"That can hardly be," said Cethegus with a smile. "But I will go up. You, Marcus Licinius, will answer to me for the Tiburtinian Gate. It must be mine. Away with you! Take your two hundred legionaries."

With these words he mounted his horse and rode towards the Capitol round the foot of the Viminalian Hill. There he met with Lucius Licinius and his Isaurians.

"General," said Lucius, "things look grave, very grave! What about the Isaurians? Do you persist in your order?"

"Have I retracted it?" said Cethegus severely. "Lucius, you and the other tribunes must follow me. Isaurians, you, under your chief, Asgares, will march between the Baths and the Tiburtinian Gate."

He did not believe there was danger for Rome. He thought he knew what the barbarians really intended at this moment.

"The feint of a general attack," he argued, "is only meant to prevent the Byzantines from thinking of the danger of their commander outside the walls."

He soon reached and ascended a tower of the Capitol, whence he could overlook the whole plain.

It was filled with Gothic weapons.

It was a splendid spectacle.

From all the gates of the encampment poured the Gothic troops, encircling the whole circumference of the city.

It was evident that the assault was intended to be carried on simultaneously against all the gates of Rome.

Foremost came the archers and slingers, in light groups of skirmishers, whose business it was to rid the ramparts of their defenders.

Then followed battering-rams and wall-breakers, taken from Roman arsenals or constructed on Roman models, though often clumsily enough; harnessed with horses and oxen and served by soldiers without weapons of attack, whose sole business it was to protect themselves and their teams against the projectiles of the enemy by means of their shields.

Close behind, in thick ranks and fully armed, furnished with battle-axes and strong knives for the hand-to-hand struggle, and dragging heavy ladders, came the warriors who were to undertake the assault.

These three separate lines of attack advanced steadily, in good order, and with an even step. The sun glittered upon their helmets; at intervals of equal lengths sounded the long-drawn summons of the Gothic horns.

"They have learned something of us," cried Cethegus, with a soldier's pride in the fine array. "The man who has ordered these ranks understands war."

"Who is it?" asked Kallistratos, who, in splendid armour, stood near Lucius Licinius.

"King Witichis, without doubt," answered Cethegus.

"I should not have thought that simple man, with his modest expression, capable of such generalship."

"These barbarians are often unfathomable," remarked Cethegus.

And now he rode away from the Capitol, over the river to the ramparts at the Pancratian Gate, where the first attack seemed to threaten.

There he ascended the corner tower with his followers.

"Who is the old man with the flowing beard, marching before his troop and carrying a stone axe? He looks as if the lightning of Zeus had missed him in the battle with the Titans."

"It is Theodoric's old master-at-arms; he marches against this gate," answered the Prefect.

"And who is the richly-accoutred man upon the brown charger, with the wolfs head upon his helmet? He is marching towards the Porta Portuensis."

"That is Duke Guntharis, the WÖlfung," said Lucius Licinius.

"And see there, too, on the eastern side of the city, away over the river, as far as the eye can reach, the ranks of the enemy advance against all the gates," cried Piso.

"But where is the King himself!" asked Kallistratos.

"Look! there in the middle you see the Gothic standard. There he is, opposite the Pancratian Gate," answered the Prefect.

"He alone, with his strong division, stands motionless far behind the lines," said Salvius Julianus, the young jurist.

"Will he not join in the fight!" asked Massurius.

"It would be against his habit not to do so. But let us go down upon the ramparts; the fight begins," said Cethegus.

"Hildebrand has reached the trench."

"There stand my Byzantines, under Gregorius. The Gothic archers aim well. The ramparts become thinned. Massurius, bring up my Abasgian archers, and the best archers of the legions. They must aim at the oxen and horses of the battering-rams."

Very soon the battle was kindled upon all sides, and Cethegus remarked with rage that the Goths progressed everywhere.

The Byzantines seemed to miss their leader; they shot at random and fell back from the walls, against which the Goths pressed with unusual daring.

They had already crossed the trenches at many points, and Duke Guntharis had even erected ladders against the walls near the Portuensian Gate; while the old master-at-arms had dragged a strong battering-ram to the Pancratian Gate, and had caused it to be protected by a penthouse against the fiery darts from above.

Already the first strokes of the ram thundered through the uproar of the battle against the beams of the gate.

This well-known sound gave the Prefect a shock.

"It is evident," he said to himself, "that they are in good earnest."

Again a thundering stroke,

Gregorius, the Byzantine, looked at him inquiringly.

"This must not continue any longer," cried Cethegus angrily; and he tore a bow and quiver from an archer who stood near him, and hurried to the battlements over the gate.

"Here, archers and slingers! Follow me!" he cried. "Bring heavy stones. Where is the next balista? Where the scorpions? That penthouse must come down!"

But under it stood Gothic archers, who eagerly looked through the apertures at the pinnacles of the battlements.

"It is useless, Haduswinth," grumbled young Gunthamund; "for the third time I have aimed in vain. Not one of them will venture even his nose above the battlements."

"Patience!" answered the old man; "only keep thy bow ready bent. Some curious body will be sure to show himself. Lay a bow ready for me too, and have patience."

"Patience! That is easier for thee with thy seventy years, than for me with my twenty," grumbled Gunthamund.

Meanwhile Cethegus reached the wall over the gate, and cast a look across the plain.

There he saw the King standing motionless in the distance with his centre, upon the right bank of the Tiber.

This sight disturbed him.

"What does he intend? Has he learned that the commander-in-chief ought not to fight? Come, Gajus," he cried to a young archer, who had boldly followed him, "your young eyes are sharp. Look over the battlements. What is the King doing there?"

And he bent over the bulwarks. Gajus followed his example, and both looked out eagerly.

"Now, Gunthamund!" cried Haduswinth below.

Two strings twanged, and the two Romans started back.

Gajus fell, shot in the forehead; and an arrow fell rattling from the Prefect's helmet.

Cethegus passed his hand across his brow.

"You live, my general!" cried Piso, springing towards him.

"Yes, friend. It was well aimed, but the gods need me yet. Only the skin is scratched," said Cethegus, and set his helmet straight.