tter,' said the general, with that affectation of bluff
good-nature which always veiled his designs. 'I like the look of you,
my good Basil; who knows but we may be friends? By the bye, was there
not some special reason for your coming to see me?'

'Your excellence summoned me.'

'Yes, yes, I remember. That affair of the Gothic wench.' Bessas checked
himself, glanced at the envoy, and corrected his phrase. 'The Gothic
lady, I would say, who has somehow been spirited out of sight. What can
you tell us of her, lord Basil? It has been whispered to me that if you
cannot lead us to this beauty's hiding-place, nobody can.'

Basil answered in the only way consistent with prudence: he not only
denied all knowledge of where Veranilda was to be found, but spoke as
though her fate had little or no interest for him, whereas he professed
himself greatly troubled by the disappearance of his cousin Aurelia. It
seemed that Petronilla did not purpose delivering Veranilda to the
Greeks. Perhaps she did not yet understand the import of their inquiry.
That it was she who held Veranilda prisoner he had less doubt than
ever, and boldly he declared his conviction. But even, whilst speaking,
he thought with dread of the possibility of Veranilda's being delivered
to Bessas; for who could assure him that this sinister-looking Thracian
would respect the mandate received from Byzantium? On the other hand,
who could say to what sufferings and perils his beloved was exposed
whilst Petronilla's captive? He preferred the risks to follow upon her
surrender. Did he but know where she was there would at least be a hope
of rescuing her.

'By Christ!' exclaimed Bessas, when he had listened intently to all
Basil's replies, 'this is a strange business. I begin to think,
excellent lord Basil, that you are as much deceived in your suspicions
of the lady Petronilla as she is in her suspicions of you. These two
wenches--ladies, I would say--may have reasons of their own for hiding;
or somebody of whom you know nothing may have carried them off. How is
this Aurelia to look upon? Young and comely, I warrant.'

Basil briefly described his cousin; whereupon the listener gave a shrug.

'We will talk of it again, to-morrow or the day after. Hold yourself in
readiness, lord Basil--you hear?--to come when bidden. And, hark you,
bring the senator's will, that I may look it over myself. Trust me, I
will see that this lady Aurelia suffers no wrong; if necessary, I wil