Outside Teja held the old man back by his mantle.

"Thou torturest the King in vain," he said. "He will never consent. Now least of all!"

"How dost thou know?" interrupted the old man.

"Peace; I guess it. As I guess all misfortune."

"Then thou wilt also acknowledge that he must consent."

"He--he will not do it."

"But--thou meanest her?"

"Perhaps!"

"She will!" cried Hildebrand.

"Yes, she is a wonder of a woman," answered Teja.

While, during the next few days, the now childless pair lived in quiet seclusion, and Witichis scarcely ever left his tent, it happened that the outposts of the royal besiegers and the sentries of the Gothic garrison of Ravenna--taking advantage of the armistice which, as a matter of fact, had ensued--entered into frequent communication.

Scolding and disputing, they reproached each other with being the cause of the civil war.

The besiegers complained that the garrison had closed the gates of his royal fortress upon the King during the greatest distress of the nation. The Ravennese blamed Witichis for depriving the daughter of the Amelungs of her rights.

As old Earl Grippa was making the round of the walls, he listened, unobserved, to one of these conversations.

He suddenly came forward, and called to Witichis's soldiers who were standing below, praising their King.

"Indeed?" he cried; "is it acting nobly and rightly to attack us like a madman, instead of giving an answer to our moderate demand? And he could so easily spare the blood of the Goths! We only want Mataswintha for our Queen! Well, can he not remain King? Is it so hard to share throne and couch with the most beautiful woman in the world, with the Princess Beautiful-hair,' of whose charms the singers sing in the streets? Must so many thousand brave Goths die, rather than that? Well then, let him continue to attack. We will see which breaks down first; his obstinacy or these walls!"

These words of the old commander made an immense impression on all the Goths before the walls. They knew of nothing to say in defence of their King. They also knew as little of his marriage as the rest of the army. In this the presence of Rauthgundis in the camp had altered little, for truly she had not come like a queen.

They hastened back to the camp in great excitement, and told what they had heard; how that the obstinacy of the King had sacrificed their brethren.

"'Twas for this reason he kept the object of the embassy a secret!" they cried.

Soon groups were formed in every lane of the camp, all much excited, speaking of the affair, and blaming the King in tones which grew ever louder.

The Germans of those times treated their kings with a freedom of speech which horrified the Byzantines.

In this case, vexation at the retreat from Rome; the shame of the defeat before Ravenna; regret for their sacrificed comrades, and anger at this secrecy; all worked together to excite the Goths to a storm of indignation against the King, which was not the less violent, because it was still restrained.

This temper of the army did not escape the notice of the leaders. As they passed through the camp, the words of blame were scarcely restrained. But they would only have let loose the mischief if they had angrily rebuked it.

And often, when Earl Teja or Hildebad would have interposed a word in mitigation, old Hildebrand kept them back.

"Let the tide swell a little more," he said; "when it is high enough I will control it. The only danger would be--" he added, half to himself.

"If those in the rebel camp opposite were beforehand with us," said Teja.

"Right, thou guesser of riddles! But things go well for us there. Deserters relate that the princess steadfastly refuses. She threatens to kill herself rather than give her hand to Arahad."

"Bah!" said Hildebad; "I would risk that!"

"Because thou knowest not that passionate creature, that child of the Amelungs! She inherits the fiery blood of Theodoric, and will, after all, play us, too, a bad trick."

"Witichis is another kind of wooer than that boy of Asta," whispered Teja.

"I trust to that also," answered Hildebrand. "Leave him in peace a few days longer," added the old man; "his grief must have its way. Till it is assuaged he can be brought to do nothing. Do not disturb him. Let him remain quietly in his tent with his wife. I shall be obliged to disturb him soon enough."

But the old man was compelled to rouse the King from his grief sooner and in a different way from what he had intended.

The Assembly at Regeta had made a law against all Goths who deserted to the Byzantines, condemning [them] to an ignominious death.

On the whole, such desertions occurred very rarely, but still, in parts of the country where a few Goths lived among a crowded Italian population, and many intermarriages had taken place, they were more frequent.

The old master-at-arms was especially wroth with these renegades, who dishonoured themselves and their nation. It was he who had introduced this law against deserters from the army and the national flag.

Its application had not yet been necessary, and its intention was almost forgotten.

Suddenly it was brought to mind gravely enough.

Belisarius had not yet left Rome with his main army. For more than one reason he wished at present to make that city the principal support of all his movements in Italy; But he had sent numerous parties of skirmishers after the retreating Goths, to tease and disquiet them, and particularly to take possession of the many castles, strongholds and towns from which the barbarian garrison had been driven out and beaten by the Italians, or, hindered by no garrison, had simply gone over to the Emperor of the "Romani," as he called himself in Greek.

Such occurrences took place--particularly as, since the Gothic King was in full retreat, and, after the outbreak of the rebellion, the Gothic cause seemed half lost--almost daily.

Partly under the influence of the appearance of Belisarius's troops before the gates, partly without such pressure, many towns and castles surrendered.

As, however, most of them preferred to wait until they could plead the excuse of necessity, in case of an unhoped-for victory of the Goths, Belisarius had all the more reason to send forth against them small troops of skirmishers, under the command of the deserters, who were well acquainted with the country and the condition of things.

And these troops, encouraged by the continued retreat of the Goths, ventured far into the land; every newly-taken castle became a point of departure for further operations.

Such a party of skirmishers had lately won Castellum Marcianum, which crowned a rocky height above an extensive pine-wood near CÆsena, close to the royal camp.

Old Hildebrand, into whose hands Witichis had given the supreme command since receiving his wound, observed with indignation this dangerous success of the enemy and the treachery of the Italians.

And as he did not wish to occupy his troops against Duke Guntharis or Ravenna--always hoping for a peaceable solution of the difficulty--he decided to play these bold skirmishers a famous trick.

Spies had related that, on the day after Rauthgundis's arrival in the camp, the new Byzantine garrison of Castellum Marcianum had dared to threaten CÆsena itself, the important town in the rear of the Gothic camp.

The old master-at-arms furiously swore destruction to the insolent enemy. He put himself at the head of a thousand horsemen, and started in the stillness of the night, with straw twisted round the hoofs of the horses, in the direction of CÆsena.

The surprise succeeded perfectly. Unobserved they entered the wood at the foot of the rock upon which the castle was situated.

Hildebrand divided his men into two parties, one of which he ordered to surround the wood on all sides; the other to dismount and follow him silently up to the castle.

The sentinels at the gate were taken by surprise, and the Byzantines, finding that they were attacked by superior numbers, fled on all sides into the wood, where the greater part of those on horseback were taken prisoners.

The flames from the burning castle illuminated the scene.

But a small group retreated, fighting, over the little river at the foot of the rock, which was crossed by a narrow bridge.

Here Hildebrand's pursuing horsemen were checked by a single man--a leader, as it seemed from the splendour of his armour.

This tall, slender, and seemingly young man--his visor was down--fought as if in desperation, covered the retreat of his men, and had already overthrown four Goths.

Then up came the old master-at-arms, and looked on for a while at the unequal combat.

"Yield, brave man!" he cried to the lonely combatant. "I will guarantee thy life."

At this call the Byzantine started; for an instant he lowered his sword, and looked at the old man.

But the next moment he had leaped forward and back again; he had cut off the arm of his nearest adversary at one powerful stroke.

The Goths fell back a little.

Hildebrand became furious.

"Forward!" he cried. "No more pity! Aim at him with your spears!"

"He is proof against iron!" cried one of the Goths, a cousin of Teja. "I hit him three times; he cannot be wounded."

"Thinkest thou so, Aligern?" laughed the old man grimly. "Let me see if he be proof against stone."

And he hurled his stone battle-axe--he was almost the only one who still carried this ancient heathen weapon--at the Byzantine.

The heavy axe crashed upon the glittering helmet of the brave defender of the bridge, who fell as if struck by lightning.

Two men sprang towards him and raised his visor.

"Master Hildebrand," cried Aligern in astonishment, "it is no Byzantine!"

"And no Italian!" added Gunthamund.

"Look at his golden locks--it is a Goth!" observed Hunibad.

Hildebrand came forward--and started violently.

"Torches!" he cried; "light! Yes," he added gloomily, taking up his stone axe, "it is a Goth! And I--I have slain him," he concluded, with icy calmness.

But his hand trembled on the shaft of his axe.

"No, master," cried Aligern, "he lives. He was only stunned; he opens his eyes."

"He lives?" asked the old man, shuddering. "May the gods forbid!"

"Yes, he lives!" repeated the Goths, raising their prisoner.

"Then woe to him, and to me! But no! The gods of the Goths have delivered him into my power. Bind him upon thy horse, Gunthamund; but firmly. If he escape, it is at the peril of thy head, not his. Forward! To horse, and home!"

When they arrived at the camp, the escort asked the master-at-arms what they should prepare for their prisoner.

"A bundle of straw for to-night," he answered, "and for to-morrow early--a gallows."

With these words he entered the King's tent, and reported the result of his excursion.

"We have a Gothic deserter among our prisoners," he concluded grimly. "He must hang before sunset to-morrow."

"That is very sad," said Witichis, sighing.

"Yes; but necessary. I shall summon the court-martial for to-morrow. Wilt thou preside?"

"No," said Witichis, "exempt me from that. I will appoint Hildebad in my place."

"No," cried the old man, "that will not do. I am commander-in-chief as long as thou keepest thy tent. I demand the presidency as my right."

Witichis looked at him.

"Thou art so grim and cold! Is it an enemy of thy kindred?"

"No," said Hildebrand.

"What is the name of the prisoner?"

"Hildebrand--like mine."

"Meseems thou hatest him--this Hildebrand. Thou mayst judge; but beware of exaggerated severity. Do not forget that I pardon gladly."

"The well-being of the Goths demands his death," said Hildebrand quietly; "and he will die!"