y father is King of the Goths, and
thine also. Dare to touch me!" Then he got angry and struck at me with
his stick and came nearer; but I knew that near me our servants were
felling trees, and I cried for help and retreated to the edge of the
rock. He looked about him in terror, for the people must have heard me;
the strokes of their axes ceased. But suddenly he sprang forward,
cried, "Die, little viper!" and pushed me over the rock.'"

Teja bit his lips.

"Oh, the devil!" cried Hildebad.

And Witichis, with a cry of pain, tore his hand from Hildebad's grasp.

"Cut it short," said Teja.

"He lost his senses again," Wachis continued; "I carried him in my arms
home to his mother. Once again he opened his eyes while lying on her
lap. A greeting to you was his last breath."

"And my wife? Is she not desperate?"

"No, master; that she is not. She is of gold, but also of steel. When
the boy had closed his eyes, she silently pointed out of the window to
the right. I understood her. There stood the neighbour's house. And I
armed all your servants and led them there to take revenge. We laid the
murdered boy on your shield and bore him in our midst. And Rauthgundis
went with us, a sword in her hand, following the corpse. We laid the
boy down before the gates of the villa. Calpurnius had fled on his
swiftest horse to Belisarius. But his brother and his son and twenty
slaves stood in the courtyard. They were just about to mount and follow
him. We uplifted the cry of murder three times. Then we attacked them.
We killed them _all_, _all_, and burnt the house down over the
inhabitants. Meantime Rauthgundis looked on without a word, keeping
watch by the little corpse and leaning on her sword; and the next day
she sent me on beforehand to tell you. Shortly after, as soon as she
had burnt the little corpse, she followed me. And as I have lost a day,
being hindered by the rebels from taking the shortest road, she may
arrive at any hour."'

"My child, my child! my poor wife! This is the first produce of this
unhappy crown! And now," he cried to the old man, with all the
impetuosity of pain, "wilt thou still demand that cruel sacrifice? that
unbearable sacrifice?"

Hildebrand slowly rose.

"Nothing is unbearable that is necessary. Winter is bearable, and age,
and death. They come, and we bear it. Because we must. But I hear the
voices of women, and rustling garments. Let us go."

Witichis turned from him to the door.

There