of freedom and of beauty, ennobled by Italian grace, and
strengthened by Gothic endurance. You, my Julius, have built a cloister
for the Church--help me to build a temple for humanity. I am lonely,
friend, at the summit of fortune. Lonely my bride awaits the full
completion of my vow. The war has robbed me of my devoted brother. Will
you not come, my Dioscuros? In two months I shall expect you at Taginae
with Valeria."

Julius read; and with emotion said to himself: "My friend, I come!"

Before King Totila left Rome for Taginae, he resolved to pay an old debt
of gratitude, and to give a worthy, that is a beautiful, form to an old
connection that, until now, had not satisfied the desire for harmony
which possessed his soul--his connection with the first hero of his
nation, with Teja.

They had been friends from their earliest boyhood. Although Teja was
several years older, he had always perceived and honoured the depth of
the younger man's nature under the brilliant husk of his joyous
temperament. And a common inclination to enthusiasm and idealism,
besides a certain pride and magnanimity, had drawn them early together.
Later, however, their opposite fates had caused their originally very
different natures to deviate more and more.

The sunny brightness of the one seemed to contrast with the austerity
of the other with painful brilliancy. And Totila, after repeated and
impetuous attempts to dispel the gloom of his silent friend--the cause
of which he did not know, and the nature of which he did not
understand--had at last, attributing it to a morbid mind, withdrawn to
a distance.

The milder, though grave and softer influence of Julius, and his
passion for Valeria, gradually estranged Totila from the friend of his
boyhood.

But the experience of late years, the sufferings and dangers he had
endured since the death of Valerius and Miriam, the burning of
Neapolis, the distress of Rome, the crimes committed at Ravenna and
Castra Nova, and lately the cares and duties of royalty, had so
completely matured the impatient and joyous youth, that he was now able
to do full justice to his gloomy friend.

And what had not this friend accomplished since the night when they had
sworn brotherhood!

When the others had become paralysed by suffering; when Hildebrand's
impatience, Totila's enthusiasm, and the quiet steadfastness of
Witichis, even old Hildebrand's icy fortitude, had wavered--Teja had
never sighed, but alway