orseman, a trusted follower
of the Bishop of Praeneste), and at length announced his resolve to
turn off the Latin Way into the mountains, with the view of gaining the
little town Aletrium, whence, he explained, they could cross the hills
to the valley of the Liris, and so descend again to the main road. It
was the man's business to obey; he let fall a few words, however,
concerning the dangers of the track; it was well known that bands of
marauders frequented this country, moving onward before the slow
advance of the Gothic troops. Marcian reflected, but none the less held
to his scheme. The beasts were urged along an upward way, which, just
about the setting of the moon, brought them to a poor village with a
little church. Marcian set himself to discover the priest, and, when
this good man was roused from slumber, spoke in his ear a word which
had great effect. With little delay stabling was found, and a place of
repose for Marcian's followers; he himself would rest under the
priest's roof, whither he conducted Veranilda and a woman servant who
sat with her in the carriage. The face which was so troubling his
imagination he did not yet see, for Veranilda kept the hood close about
her as she passed by candle light up steps to the comfortless and dirty
little chamber which was the best she could have.

'Rest in peace,' whispered Marcian as the door closed. 'I guard you.'

For an hour or more he sat talking with his host over a pitcher of
wine, found how far he was from Aletrium, and heard with satisfaction
that the brigand bands seemed to have gone higher into the mountains.
The presbyter asked eagerly for Roman news, and cautiously concerning
King Totila, whom it was evident he regarded with no very hostile
feeling. As the day broke he stretched himself on his host's bed, there
being no other for him, and there dozed for two or three hours, far too
agitated to enjoy a sound sleep.

When he arose, he went forth into the already hot sunshine, looked at
the poor peasants' cottages, and talked with Sagaris, whose
half-smiling face seemed anxious to declare that he knew perfectly well
on what business they were engaged. At this hour, in all probability,
the horsemen of Pelagius were galloping along the Latin Way, in hope of
overtaking the fugitives. It seemed little likely that they would
search in this direction, and the chances were that they would turn
back when their horses got tired out. Of them, indeed, Marcian thou