fleet,--the flower of our army, and the hero Zazo
to distant Sardinia! How could you counsel that, Verus?"

"Am I omniscient?" replied the priest, shrugging his shoulders. "I told
you that the messenger returned from Tripolis only an hour ago."

"Oh, brother, brother," urged Gibamund, "give me two thousand men,--no,
only one thousand. I will fly to Tripolis on the wings of the wind and
show the faithless wretch Nemesis as she looks in the Vandal dragon
helmet."

"Not until Zazo returns," replied the King, who had drawn himself up to
his full height. "We will not divide our strength still more. Zazo must
come back at once! It was a grave error to send him. I wonder that I
did not perceive it. But your counsel, Verus--Hush! That is not meant
for a reproach. But a swift sailing ship must follow the fleet
instantly to summon it back."

"Too late, my King," cried Gibamund, who had hurried to the arched
window. "See how high the sea is running, and from the north! The wind
has veered since we came in here, shifted from the southeast to the
north. No ship can overtake the fleet which, borne by a strong south
wind, has a start of many hours."

"O God," sighed Gelimer, "even Thy storms are against us. Only--" and
again he drew himself up--"who knows whether we may not err in
believing the peril so close at hand? Constantinople may send a small
body of troops to aid Sardinia, but whether Justinian will really dare
to attack us on our own soil here in Africa--"

"Oh, if he would but dare!" cried Gibamund.

Just at that moment a priest--he was a deacon from Verus's
basilica--hastened in, and, bowing humbly, handed to his superior a
sealed letter, saying: "This has just been brought by a swift-sailing
ship from Constantinople." He bowed again and left the hall.

At the first sight of the cord fastening the papyrus Verus started so
violently that neither of the three could fail to notice it as
extraordinary in the man who, usually possessing almost superhuman
self-control, never betrayed his emotion by a glance or even a vehement
gesture.

"What fresh misfortune has happened?" cried even the brave Hilda.

"It is the sign agreed upon," said Verus, now gazing at the letter
again with such icy calmness that the very transition from such
agitation to such composure could not fail to perplex the witnesses
afresh. But the little group were not overwhelmed with astonishment
long, and waited impatiently while Verus, with a sharp