, heard him whisper to them, saw them take up and carry away
their master's corpse; all this as if it did not regard him. Again he
turned his gaze upon Veranilda. It seemed to him that her lips, her
eyelids moved. He bent forward, heard a sigh. Then the blue eyes
opened, but as yet saw nothing.

Gaudiosus reappeared, and Basil beckoned him.

'You do not know her?' he asked in a low voice.

'I never looked upon her face till now,' was the reply.

At the sound of their voices Veranilda stirred, tried to rouse herself,
uttered a sound of distress.

'Speak to her,' said Basil.

Gaudiosus approached the couch, and spoke soothing words.

'What dreadful thought is this?' said Veranilda. 'What have I seen?'

The priest whispered an adjuration to prayer. But she, raising her
head, cast terrified glances about the hall. Basil had moved further
away, and she did not seem to be aware of his presence.

'How long is it,' he asked, with his eyes upon Gaudiosus, 'since
Marcian came from Rome?'

'This is the fourth day. So I have been told. I myself saw him for the
first time not an hour--nay, not half an hour ago.'

'You knew not that he brought _her_ with him?'

Basil, without looking in that direction, signalled with his head
towards Veranilda.

'I had heard of some companion unnamed.'

'He had not spoken of her to you?'

'Not a word.'

On the tesselated floor where Marcian had fallen was a pool of blood.
Basil only now perceived it, and all at once a violent shudder went
over him.

'Man of God!' he exclaimed in a voice of sudden passion, terribly
resonant after the dull, hard accents of his questioning. 'You look
upon me with abhorrence, and, perhaps, with fear. Hearken to my
vindication. He whom I have slain was the man I held in dearest
friendship. I believed him true to the heart's core. Yesterday--was it
but yesterday?--O blessed Christ!--it seems to me so long ago--I
learned that his heart was foul with treachery. Long, long, he has lied
to me, pretending to seek with me for one I had lost, my plighted love.
In secret he robbed me of her. Heard you not his answer when, to catch
the lie on his very lips, I asked what news he could give me of her. I
knew that she was here; his own servant had secretly avowed the truth
to me. And you heard him say that she was gone on far travel. Therefore
it was that he would not harbour me in his house--me, his friend. In
the name of the Crucified, did I not well to lay him