tall figure on his left is the sturdy
Hildebad! What brings the generals back? Their troops should be far on
their way to Gaul and Dalmatia."

There ensued an uproar of excited voices. Meanwhile the riders had
reached the place and sprang from their smoking horses. Received with
enthusiasm, the two generals, Witichis and Hildebad, went through the
crowd up to Hildebrand's judgment-seat.

"What?" cried Hildebad, still out of breath; "you sit here and hold a
tribunal as if in time of peace, and the enemy Belisarius has landed!"

"We know it," answered Hildebrand quietly, "and would have held counsel
with the King how best to check him."

"With the King!" laughed Hildebad bitterly.

"He is not here," said Witichis, looking round; "that confirms our
suspicion. We returned because we had cause for grave mistrust. But of
that later. Continue where you were interrupted. Everything according
to right and order! Peace, friend!"

And, pushing the impatient Hildebad back, he modestly placed himself on
the left of the judgment-seat amongst the others.

After all had become still, the old man continued:

"Gothelindis, our Queen, is accused of the murder of Amalaswintha, the
daughter of Theodoric. I ask: are we a tribunal to judge such a cause?"

Old Haduswinth, leaning upon his club, advanced a step and said:

"Red are the cords which enclose this place of execution. The National
Assembly has the right to judge red-handed crime; warm life and cold
death. If it has been ordered otherwise in late times, it has been by
force and not by right. We _are_ a tribunal to judge such a cause."

"Through all the nation," resumed Hildebrand, "a heavy reproach is made
against Gothelindis; in the depths of our hearts we accuse her. But who
will accuse her here, in open assembly, in audible words, of this
murder?"

"I," cried a loud voice, and a handsome young Goth in shining armour
stepped forward, on the right of the judge, laying his hand upon his
heart.

A murmur of approbation ran through the crowd.

"He loves the beautiful Mataswintha!"

"He is the brother of Duke Guntharis of Tuscany, who holds Florentia."

"He is her wooer."

"He comes forward as the avenger of her mother."

"I, Earl Arahad of Asta, the son of Aramuth, of the noble race of the
Woelfungs," continued the young Goth with an engaging blush. "It is
true, I am not akin to the murdered Princess; but the men of her
family, Theodahad foremost, her cousin and he