enly broke off all social ties, and retired into
impenetrable solitude, seemingly at war with God and the whole world.

Silverius and Rusticiana had, with the greatest difficulty, persuaded
him to sacrifice his repose, and join in the conspiracy of the
Catacombs. He told them that he only became a patriot from tedium. And,
in fact, until the death of the King, he had taken part in the
conspiracy--the conduct of which, however, was wholly in his and the
archdeacon's hands--almost with dislike.

It was now otherwise.

Until now, the inmost sentiment of his being--the desire to test
himself in all possible fields of intellectual effort; to overcome all
difficulties; to outdo all rivals; to govern, alone and without
resistance, every circle that he entered; and, when he had won the
crown of victory, carelessly to cast it aside and seek for new
tasks--all this had never permitted him to find full satisfaction in
any of his aims.

Art, science, luxury, office, fame. Each of these had charmed him. He
had excelled in all to an unusual degree, and yet all had left a void
in his soul.

To govern, to be the first, to conquer opposing circumstances with all
his means of superior power and wisdom, and then to rule crouching men
with a rod of iron; this, consciously and unconsciously, had always
been his aim. In this alone could he find contentment.

Therefore he now breathed proudly and freely. His icy heart glowed at
the thought that he ruled over the two great inimical powers of the
time, over both Goths and Romans, with a mere glance of his eye; and
from this exquisite feeling of mastery, the conviction arose with
demonic force, that there remained but one goal for him and his
ambition that was worth living for; but one goal, distant as the sun,
and out of the reach of every other man. He believed in his descent
from Julius Caesar, and felt the blood rush through his veins at the
thought--Caesar, Emperor of the West, ruler of the Roman Empire!

A few months ago, when this thought first flashed across his mind--not
even a thought, not a wish, only a shadow, a dream--he was startled,
and could not help smiling at his own boundless assurance.

_He_, Emperor and regenerator of the Empire! And Italy trembled under
the footsteps of three hundred thousand Goths! And the greatest of all
barbarian kings, whose fame filled the earth, sat on his powerful
throne in Ravenna!

Even if the power of the Goths were broken, the Franks a