is household; a second
carriage conveyed the deacon Leander and another ecclesiastic; servants
and a baggage vehicle brought up the rear. With what speed it could
over the ill-paved roads, this procession made for the bank of the
Tiber below the Aventine, where, hard by the empty public granaries, a
ship lay ready to drop down stream. It was a flight rather than a
departure. Having at length made up his mind to obey the Emperor's
summons, Vigilius endeavoured to steal away whilst the Romans slept off
their day of festival. But he was not suffered to escape thus. Before
he had reached the place of embarkation, folk began to run shouting
behind his carriage. Ere he could set foot on board the vessel a crowd
had gathered. The farewell of the people to their supreme Pontiff was
given in a volley of stones and potsherds, whilst the air rang with
maledictions.

Notwithstanding his secret hostility, Leander had of late crept into
Vigilius' confidence, thus protecting himself against his formidable
adversary Pelagius. He was now the Pope's travelling companion as far
as Sicily. Had he remained in Rome, the authority of Pelagius would
have fallen heavily upon him, and he could scarce have escaped the
humiliation of yielding his Gothic captive to Justinian's friend.
Apprised only a day before of Vigilius' purpose, he had barely time to
plot with Marcian for the conveyance of Veranilda to Totila's camp.
This had long been his intention, for, convinced that Totila would rule
over Italy, he saw in the favour of the king not only a personal
advantage, but the hope of the Western Church in its struggle with
Byzantium. Driven at length to act hurriedly, he persuaded himself that
he could use no better agent than Marcian, who had so deeply pledged
himself to the Gothic cause. Of what had passed between Marcian and
Pelagius he of course knew nothing. So, as the ship moved seaward upon
tawny Tiber, and day flamed upon the Alban hills, Leander laughed
within himself. He enjoyed a plot for its own sake, and a plot, long
savoured, which gave him triumph over ecclesiastical rivals, and even
over the Emperor Justinian, was well worth the little risk that might
ensue When he returned to Rome, it would doubtless be with the
victorious Goth--safe, jubilant, and ere long to be seated in the chair
of the Apostle.

At the same hour Marcian was riding along the Praenestine Way, the
glory of summer sunrise straight before him. The thought most activ