o choose the troops
intended for the campaign and to send them on board.

On the evening of this day Gibamund, Hilda, and Verus had gathered
around Gelimer in the great hall of the palace, whose lofty arched
windows afforded a wide view of the sea. Beside the marble table,
heaped with papers, stood Gelimer, his head bowed as if by deep
anxiety; his noble features expressed the gravest care.

"You sent for me, friend Verus, to listen with Gibamund to important
tidings which had arrived within the few hours since Zazo left us. They
must be matters of serious moment, from the expression of your face.
Begin; I am prepared for everything. I have strength to bear the news."

"You will need it," replied the priest, in a hollow tone.

"But shall Hilda also?"

"Oh, let me stay, my King," pleaded the young wife, pressing closer to
her husband. "I am a woman; but I can keep silence. And I wish to know
and share your dangers."

Gelimer held out his hand to her. "Then brave sister-in-law! And bear
with us whatever may be allotted by the stern Judge in heaven."

"Yes," Verus began, "it seems as if the wrath of Heaven indeed rested
on you, King Gelimer." Gelimer shuddered.

"Chancellor," cried Gibamund, indignantly, "cease such words, such
unhallowed thoughts. You are always thrusting the dagger of such
sayings into the soul of the best of men. It seems as if you tortured
him intentionally, fostered this delusion."

"Silence, Gibamund!" said the King, with a deep groan. "It is no
delusion. It is the most terrible truth which religion, conscience, the
history of the world teach; sin will be punished. And when Verus became
my Chancellor, he remained my confessor. Who but he has the right and
the duty to bruise my conscience and, by warning me of the wrath of
God, break the defiant pride of my spirit?"

"But you need strength. King of the Vandals," cried Hilda, her eyes
sparkling wrathfully, "not contrition."

Gelimer waved his hand, and Verus began:

"It is almost crushing, blow upon blow. As soon as the fleet had left
the roadstead (the last sail had barely vanished from our sight), the
messages of evil came. First, from the Visigoths. Simultaneously with
the news from Sardinia a long, long letter from King Theudis arrived.
It contained merely the repetition in many words it came from
Hispalis--that he must consider everything maturely, must test what we
could do in war."

"Test from Hispalis!" muttered Gibamund.

But