leepless couch on the morning of the third
day. It affected her disagreeably when, upon going to the window of
sparry gypsum, a raven rose cawing from the marble sill, and flew
slowly over the garden with hoarse cries, heavily flapping its wings.
The Princess felt how much her nerves had been tried by the last few
days of pain, fear, and remorse; for she could not resist the dismal
impression made upon her by the early autumn mists, which rose from the
lagoons of the harbour city.

She looked at the grey and marshy landscape with a deep sigh. Her heart
was heavy with care and remorse. Her only hope lay in the thought of
saving the kingdom at the cost of her own life, by frankly accusing and
humiliating herself before the whole nation. She did not doubt that the
relations and blood-avengers of the murdered dukes would strictly
fulfil their duty.

Buried in such reflections, she went through the empty halls and
corridors of the palace--this time, as she believed, unobserved--to the
resting-place of her son, in order to confirm herself, with prayer and
penitence, in her pious resolution.

As, after some time had elapsed, she re-ascended from the vault and
turned into a gloomy arched passage, a man in the habit of a slave
stepped out of a niche--she thought that she had often seen his face
before--and put into her hand a little wax tablet, immediately
disappearing into a side passage.

She at once recognised the handwriting of Cassiodorus.

And now she guessed who was the secret messenger. It was Dolios, the
letter-carrier of her faithful minister.

Quickly concealing the tablet in her dress, she hastened to her
chamber, where she read as follows:

"In pain, but not in anger, I parted from you. I would not that you
should be called away from this world in an impenitent state, and lose
your immortal soul. Fly from the palace, from the city. You know how
bitter is the hatred of Gothelindis. Your life is not safe for an hour.
Trust no one except my secretary, and at sunset go to the Temple of
Venus in the garden. There you will find my litter, which will bring
you safely to my villa at the Lake of Bolsena. Obey and trust."

Much moved, Amalaswintha pressed the letter to her heart. Faithful
Cassiodorus! He had not, then, quite forsaken her. He still feared and
cared for her life. And that charming villa upon the lonely island in
the blue Lake of Bolsena! There, many, many years ago, in the full
bloom of youth and