lready burden the Vandal race--especially our
generation--the crime of dethronement, regicide, the murder of a
kinsman? Where is the proof of Hilderic's guilt? Was my long-cherished
distrust not merely the fruit, but the pretext,--inspired by my own
impatient desire for the throne? Pudentius may lie--exaggerate. Where
is the proof that treason is planned?"

"Will you wait till it has succeeded?" cried Zazo, defiantly.

"No! But do not punish till it is proved."

"There speaks the Christian," said the priest, approvingly.--"But the
proof must be quickly produced: this very day. Listen, I have reason to
believe that Pudentius is in the city now."

"We must have him!" cried Zazo. "Where is he? With the King?"

"They do not work so openly. He steals into the palace only by night.
But I know his hiding-place. In the grove of the Holy Virgin--the warm
baths."

"Send me, brother! Me! I will fly!"

"Go, then," replied Gelimer, waving his hand.

"But do not kill him," the priest called after the hurrying figure.

"No, by my sword! We must have him alive." He vanished down the
corridor.

"Oh, Verus!" Gelimer passionately exclaimed, "you faithful friend!
Shall I owe you the rescue of my people, as well as the deliverance of
my own poor life from the most horrible death?" He eagerly clasped his
hand.

The priest withdrew it.

"Thank God for your own and your people's destiny, not me. I am only
the tool of His will, from the hour I assumed the garb of this
priesthood. But listen: to you alone dare I confide the whole truth;
yonder blockhead would ruin everything by his blind impetuosity. Your
life is threatened. That does not alarm the hero! Yet you must preserve
it for your people. Fall if fall you must, in battle, under the sword
of Belisarius" (Gelimer's eyes sparkled, and a noble enthusiasm
transfigured his face), "but do not perish miserably by murder."

"Murder? Who would--?"

"The King. No, do not doubt. Pudentius told me. The nephews overruled
his opposition. They know that you will baffle their plans so long as
you live. You must never be permitted to become King of the Vandals."

Here the black eyes shot a swift glance, then fell again.

"We shall see!" cried Gelimer, wrathfully. "I _will_ be King, and
woe--"

Here he stopped suddenly. His breath came and went quickly. After a
pause, repressing his vehemence, he asked humbly,--

"Is this ambition a sin, my brother?"

"You have a right to the crown,