the priests."

"Right! And do you know that, as soon as the old Pope, Agapetus, is
dead, Silverius will ascend the Bishop's Chair?"

"So I hear. I was advised to take him as a hostage too. I shall not do
so. The Italians hate us enough already. I will not meddle with the
wasps' nest of the priests. I fear martyrs."

But Cethegus would gladly have been rid of the priest, "He will be
dangerous in the Chair of Peter," he said warningly.

"Let him alone! The possession of this country will not be decided by
the schemes of the priesthood."

"Well," said Cethegus, taking the roll of papyrus, "I have here,
accidentally, the names of his warmest friends; there are men of
importance amongst them."

He would have pressed the list upon Witichis, hoping that then the
Goths would take his most dangerous enemies away with them.

But Witichis refused the list.

"'Tis no matter! I shall take no hostages at all. Of what use is it to
take off their heads? _You_, shall answer to me for Rome."

"What do you mean by that? I cannot keep Belisarius away."

"You shall not. Belisarius is sure to come, but, rely upon it, he will
go away again. We Goths will overcome this enemy; perhaps only after a
hard fight, but most certainly. And then there will be a second fight
for Rome!"

"A second?" asked Cethegus quietly. "With whom?"

Witichis laid his hand upon the Prefect's shoulder, and looked into his
face with eyes as clear as sunshine.

"With you, Prefect of Rome!"

"With me?" and Cethegus tried to smile, but could not.

"Do not deny what is dearest to you, man. It is not worthy of you. I
know for whom you have built the gates and ramparts round this city;
not for us and not for the Greeks! for yourself! Be quiet! I know you
meditate, or I guess it. Not a word! Be it so. Shall Greek and Goth
struggle for Rome, and no Roman? But listen: let not a second wearing
war carry off our people. When we have overcome the Byzantines and
driven them out of our Italy--then, Cethegus, I will expect you before
the walls of Rome. Not for a battle between our people, but for single
combat. Man against man, you and I will lose or win Rome."

In the King's look and tone lay such dignity, magnanimity, and
sublimity, that the Prefect was confused.

In secret he would have mocked at the simplicity of the barbarian, but
it seemed to him as if he could never more respect himself, if he were
incapable of esteeming, honouring, and responding to such g