t I should still, after knowing for years your
utter heartlessness, when the glow of passion is extinguished in my
veins, that I should still most blindly follow your demoniac will--that
is folly enough to make me laugh aloud."

And she laughed wildly, and pressed her right hand to her brow.

The priest stopped in his domestic occupations and looked stealthily at
Cethegus. He was intensely interested.

Cethegus leaned his head back against the marble moulding, and with his
right hand grasped the drinking-cup which stood before him.

"You are unjust, Rusticiana," he said quietly, "and confused. You mix
the sports of Eros with the works of Eris and the Fates. You know that
I was the friend of Boethius, although I kissed his wife. Perhaps just
for that reason. I see nothing particular in that. And you--well,
Silverius and the saints have forgiven you. You know further, that I
hate these Goths, mortally hate them; that I have the will and--more
than all others--the power to carry through that which is now your
greatest wish, to revenge your father, whom you loved, and your
husband, whom you honoured, on these barbarians.

"Therefore you obey my instigations, and you are wise in so doing; for
you have a decided talent for intrigue, but your impetuosity often
clouds your judgment. It spoils your finest plans. Therefore it is well
that you follow cooler guidance. That is all. But now go. Your slave is
crouching, drunk with sleep, in the vestibule. She believes that you
are in the confessional with friend Silverius. The confession must not
last too long. And we also have business to transact. Greet Camilla,
your lovely child, for me, and farewell."

He rose, took her hand, and led her gently to the door. She followed
reluctantly, nodded to the priest at parting, looked once more at
Cethegus, who appeared not to observe her inward emotion, and went out,
slightly shaking her head.

Cethegus sat down again and emptied his cup of wine.

"A strange struggle in this woman's nature," remarked Silverius, and
sat down by Cethegus with stylus, wax-tablets, letters and documents.

"It is not strange. She wishes to atone for having wronged her husband
by avenging him," said Cethegus. "And that she can accomplish this by
means of her former lover, makes the sacred duty doubly sweet. To be
sure, she is not conscious of it.--But what have we to do?"

The two men now began their business: to consider such points of the
conspiracy as