that next year--we will
see----"

"You will see whether the aged Theodoric has become a dotard? You hoped
that I was dead? You think that you can refuse the tribute to my
successor? You err, spies!"

And he took up, as if proving its worth, one of the swords which the
messengers had laid at his feet, together with its sheath, held it
firmly by hilt and point, and with a slight effort snapped the steel in
two, and threw the pieces on the ground.

"The Avari carry worthless swords," he said quietly. "Come, Athalaric,
heir to my kingdom. They do not believe that thou canst bear the weight
of my crown. Show them how thou canst throw my spear."

The youth bounded to him. The scarlet hue of ambition flushed his pale
face. He swung the heavy spear of his grandfather, and hurled it with
such force at a shield which the messengers had leaned against one of
the wooden pillars, that it completely pierced it and penetrated deeply
into the wood.

The King laid his left hand on the head of his grandchild, and said
proudly to the messengers:

"Now go, and tell at home what you have seen."

He turned away; the outer doors were closed, and shut out the amazed
Avarians.

"Give me a cup of wine. It may possibly be the last! No, unmixed! In
Germanic fashion--" he repulsed the Grecian physician. "Thanks, old
Hildebrand, for this draught, so faithfully given. I drink prosperity
to the Goths!"

He slowly emptied the goblet; and with a hand yet firm and strong he
replaced it on the marble table.

But suddenly, like a flash of lightning, that which the physicians had
long expected took place. He staggered, pressed his hand to his heart,
and fell backwards into Hildebrand's arms; who, slowly kneeling down,
let him gently slide on to the marble pavement, supporting his
helm-crowned head.

For one moment all present held their breath; but the King did not
move, and, with a loud cry, Athalaric threw himself upon the corpse.

CHAPTER VIII.

There was another man, besides Cassiodorus, who played a most
important, and, as it seemed to the Regency, a very deserving part, in
those days of transition. This was no other than Cethegus. He had
undertaken the momentous office of Prefect of Rome. As soon as the King
had closed his eyes for ever, Cethegus had instantly hurried to his
place of trust, and had arrived there before the news of the event had
reached that city.

Before daybreak, he had collec