er side.

"Concede everything," he whispered; "it is forced and null. And
to-night Pomponius will arrive.

"Speak!" said Cassiodorus; "but spare the woman, barbarians!"

"Ha! ha!" laughed Duke Pitza. "She will not be treated like a woman.
She is our _King_!"

"Peace, cousin!" said Duke Thulun reprovingly; "she is of noble blood.
First," he continued, "thou must dismiss the Prefect of Rome. He is
said to be an enemy of the Goths; he may not advise the Gothic Queen.
Earl Witichis will take his place near thy throne."

"Agreed!" said Cethegus himself, instead of Amalaswintha.

"Secondly, thou wilt declare, in a proclamation, that for the future no
order of thine can be executed which is not signed by Hildebrand or
Witichis; and that no law is valid without the ratification of the
National Assembly."

The Queen started up angrily; but Cethegus held her arm.

"Pomponius comes to-night," he whispered. Then he said aloud, "This
also is agreed to."

"The third condition," resumed Thulun, "is one which thou wilt as
willingly grant as we ask it. We three Balthes have not learned to bow
our heads in a prince's court. The roof here is too low for us. It is
better that Amelungs and Balthes live as far apart as the eagle and the
falcon. And the realm needs our weapons upon its boundaries. Our
neighbours think that the land is orphaned since thy great father died,
Avari, Gepidae, and Sclavonians fearlessly overstep the frontiers. In
order to punish these three nations, thou wilt equip three armies, each
of thirty thousand; and we three Balthes will lead them, as thy
generals, to the east and to the north."

"The whole military force also in their hands--not bad!" thought
Cethegus. "Accepted!" he cried aloud, smiling.

"And what remains to me," asked Amalaswintha, "when I have granted all
this?"

"A golden crown upon a white forehead," said Duke Ibba.

"Thou canst write like a Greek," re-commenced Thulun. "Such arts are
not learned in vain. This parchment should contain all that we demand;
my slave has written it down." He gave it to Witichis to examine. "Is
it so? 'Tis well. That thou wilt sign, Princess. Good. We have
finished. Now, Hildebrand, speak with yonder Roman."

But Teja was beforehand. He advanced to the Prefect, trembling with
hate, his sword in his hand.

"Prefect of Rome," said he, "blood has been shed--precious, noble,
Gothic blood! It consecrates the furious strife which will soon be
kindled. Blood,