e expected
that he would lead a luxurious life in his houses and villas. They were
sadly deceived.

Cethegus only built for himself the convenient little house at the foot
of the Capitol, which he decorated in the most tasteful manner; and
there he lived in populous Rome like a hermit.

He unexpectedly published a description of his travels, characterising
the people and countries which he had visited. The book had an
unheard-of success. Cassiodorus and Boethius sought his friendship, and
the great King invited him to his court.

But on a sudden he disappeared from Rome.

What had happened remained a mystery, in spite of all malicious,
curious, or sympathetic inquiries.

People told each other that one morning a poor fisherman had found
Cethegus unconscious, almost dead, on the shores of the Tiber, outside
the gates of the city.

A few weeks later he again was heard of on the north-east frontier of
the kingdom, in the inhospitable regions of the Danube, where a bloody
war with the Gepidae, Avari, and Sclavonians was raging. There he
fought the savage barbarians with death-despising courage, and followed
them with a few chosen troops, paid from his private means, into their
rocky fortresses, sleeping every night upon the frozen ground. And
once, when the Gothic general entrusted to him a larger detachment of
troops in order to make an inroad, instead of doing this, he attacked
and took Sirmium, the enemy's fortified capital, displaying no less
good generalship than courage.

After the conclusion of peace, he travelled into Gaul, Spain, and again
to Byzantium; returned thence to Rome, and lived for years in an
embittered idleness and retirement, refusing all the military, civil,
or scientific offices and honours which Cassiodorus pressed, upon him.
He appeared to take no interest in anything but his studies.

A few years before the period at which our story commences, he had
brought with him from Gaul a handsome youth, to whom he showed Rome and
Italy, and whom he treated with fatherly love and care. It was said
that he would adopt him. As long as his young guest was with him he
ceased his lonely life, invited the aristocratic youth of Rome to
brilliant feasts in his villas, and, accepting all invitations in
return, proved himself the most amiable of guests.

But as soon as he had sent young Julius Montanus, with a stately suite
of pedagogues, freedmen, and slaves, to the learned schools of
Alexandria, he sudd