rer. A show of activity
in the garrison resulted from this arrival; soldiers were set to work
upon parts of the city wall which needed strengthening; the Romans
began to make ready for a siege; and some, remembering the horrors of a
few years ago, took to flight. There was much talk of a conspiracy to
open the gates to Totila; one or two senators were imprisoned, and a
few Arian priests who still dwelt in Rome were sentenced to banishment.
But when, after a few weeks, Joannes and his troop marched northward,
commotion ceased; Bessas fell back into the life of indolent rapacity,
work on the walls was soon neglected, and Rome found that she had still
only to wait.

About this time Marcian fell sick. He had suffered much from
disappointment of high hopes, neither Heliodora nor Leander aiding his
schemes as he expected. The constant danger in which he lived tried his
fortitude to the utmost, and at length he began to burn with fever.
Agonies came upon him, for even the slightest disorder in these
plague-stricken times filled men with fear. And whilst he lay thus
wretched, his servants scarce daring to attend upon him--Sagaris
refused to enter his chamber, and held himself ready for flight (with
all he could lay hands on) as soon as the physician should have uttered
the fatal word--whilst his brain was confused and his soul shaken with
even worse than the wonted terrors, there came to visit him the deacon
Pelagius. That the visit happened at this moment was mere chance, but
Pelagius, hearing of Marcian's condition, felt that he could not have
come more opportunely. A courageous man, strong in body as in mind, he
was not to be alarmed by mere talk of the pest; bidding the porter
conduct him, he came to Marcian's bedside, and there sat for half an
hour. When he went away, his handsome countenance wore a smile of
thoughtful satisfaction.

As though this conversation had relieved him, the sick man at once
began to mend. But with his recovery came another torment. Lying in
fear of death and hell, he had opened his soul to Pelagius, and had
revealed secrets upon which depended all he cared for in this world.
Not only he himself was ruined, but the lives of those he had betrayed
were in jeopardy. That suspicion was busy with him he knew; the
keen-sighted deacon had once already held long talk with him, whereupon
followed troublesome interrogation by Bessas, who had since regarded
him with somewhat a sullen eye. How would Pelagius