A Struggle For Rome Volume Ii Part 78

"And fortune is with him, as misfortune is with me. We shall be as free as before, and only fight his battles against Byzantium. We shall be revenged on our common enemy."

Almost all those present now agreed with the King.

"Well, I cannot contradict you in words," said Hildebad; "my tongue has ever been more clumsy than my sword. But I feel sure that you are wrong. Had we but the Black Earl here, he would say what I can only feel. May you never regret this step! But permit me to quit this monstrous kingdom. I will never live under Belisarius. I will go in search of adventures. With a s.h.i.+eld and spear and a strong hand, a man can go a great way."

Witichis hoped to change the intention of his trusty comrade in private conversation. At present he continued to carry forward that which he had at heart.

"You must know," he said, "that first of all Belisarius has made it a condition that nothing should be published until he has occupied Ravenna. It is to be feared that some of his leaders, with their troops, will hear nothing of a rebellion against Belisarius. These, as well as the suspicious quarters of Ravenna, must be surrounded by the Goths and the trustworthy adherents of Belisarius before all is made known."

"Take care," said Hildebad, "that you yourselves do not fall into a trap! We Goths should not try to spin such spiders' toils. It is as if a bear should try to dance on a rope--he would fall, sooner or later.

Farewell--and may this business turn out better than I expect. I go to take leave of my brother. He, if I know him, will soon reconcile himself to this Roman-Gothic State. But Black Teja, I think, will go away with me."

In the evening a report ran through the city that terms of capitulation had been made and accepted. The conditions were unknown. But it was certain that Belisarius, at the desire of the King, had sent large stores of bread, meat, and wine into Ravenna, which were distributed amongst the poor.

"He has kept his word!" cried the people; and blessed the name of the King.

Witichis now asked after the health of the Queen, and learned that she was gradually recovering.

"Patience," he said, taking a deep breath; "she also will soon be at liberty, and rid of me!"

It was already growing dark, when a strong company of mounted Goths made their way through the city to the breach at the Tower of aetius.

A tall horseman went first. Then came a group, carrying a heavy burden, hidden by cloths and mantles, upon their crossed lances. Then the rest of the men in full armour.

"Unbolt the gate!" cried the leader; "we want to go out."

"Is it thou, Hildebad?" asked Earl Wisand, who commanded the watch, and he gave the order to open the gate. "Dost thou know that to-morrow the city will surrender? Whither wilt thou go?"

"To freedom!" cried Hildebad; and spurred his horse forward.

CHAPTER XXII.

Many days pa.s.sed before Mataswintha fully recovered from the delirium of fever and the uneasy slumbers, haunted by terrible dreams, which followed.

She had become dull and impa.s.sive to all that pa.s.sed around her, taking no interest in the great changes which were in preparation. She appeared to have no other feeling than that of the enormity of her crime. The triumphal exultation which she had felt while rus.h.i.+ng through the night with her torch, had given place to devouring remorse, horror, and dread.

At the moment of committing the wicked deed, the earthquake had thrown her upon her knees, and in her excitement, in the pang of awakening conscience, she thought that the very earth was rising up against her, and that the judgment of Heaven was about to fall upon her guilty head.

And when, on reaching her chamber, she presently saw the flames, which her own hand had kindled, reddening all the sky; when she heard the cries and lamentations of Ravennese and Goths; the flames seemed to scorch her heart and every cry to call down curses upon her.

She lost her senses; she was overwhelmed by the consequences of her deed.

When she came to herself and gradually recollected all that had pa.s.sed, her hatred of the King was completely spent. Her soul was bowed down; she was filled with deep remorse; and a terrible fear of ever having to appear before him again came upon her, for she well knew, and now heard from all sides, that the destruction of the magazines would oblige the King to surrender to his enemies.

Himself she did not see. Even when he found a moment in which to ask personally after her health, she had conjured the astonished Aspa on no account to let him approach her, although she had left her couch many days ago, and had frequently admitted the poor of the city; had, indeed, invited the sufferers to apply to her for help.

At such times she had given the provisions intended for herself and her attendants to the poor with her own hands, and divided amongst them her jewels and gold with unlimited generosity.

It was one of these visits that she was expecting, after having been pet.i.tioned by a man in a brown mantle and steel cap to grant a private audience to a poor woman of her nation. "She has a message which concerns the King. She has to warn you of some treachery which threatens his crown and perhaps his life," the man had said.

Mataswintha at once granted his request.

Even if it were a mistake, an excuse, she could now never more refuse to admit any one who came with a message concerning the King's safety.

She ordered the woman to come at sunset.

The sun had gone down.

In the south there is almost no twilight, and it was nearly dark when a slave beckoned to the woman, who had been waiting in the court for some time, to come forward.

The Queen, sick and sleepless during the night, had only fallen asleep at the eighth hour. She had just awoke, and was very weak.

Notwithstanding, she would receive the woman, because she said her message concerned the King.

"But is that really true?" inquired the slave----it was Aspa. "I should not like to disturb my mistress without cause. If you only want gold, say so freely; you shall have as much as you wish--only spare my mistress. Does it really concern the King?"

"It does."

With a sigh, Aspa led the woman into the Queen's chamber.

The form of Mataswintha, clad in light white garments, her head and hair covered by a folded kerchief, was relieved against the dark background of the s.p.a.cious chamber, lying upon a couch, near which stood a round table in mosaic. The golden lamp, which was fixed to the wall above the table, shed a faint light.

Mataswintha rose and seated herself, with an air of fatigue, upon the edge of her couch.

"Draw near," she said to the woman. "Thy message concerns the King? Why dost thou hesitate? Speak!"

The woman pointed at Aspa.

"She is silent and faithful."

"She is a woman."

At a sign from the Queen, the slave reluctantly left the room.

"Daughter of the Amelungs, I know that nothing but the strait in which the kingdom stood, and not love, led thee to Witichis.--(How lovely she is, although pale as death!)--Yet thou art the Queen of the Goths--his Queen--and even if thou dost not love him, his kingdom, his triumph, must be all in all to thee."

Mataswintha grasped the gilded arm of her couch.

"So thinks every beggar in the nation!" she sighed.

"To the King I cannot speak, for special reasons," continued the woman.

"Therefore I speak to thee whose province it is to succour and warn him against treason. Listen to me." And she drew nearer, looking keenly at the Queen.--"How strange," she said to herself; "what similarity of form!"

"Treason! still more treason?"

"So thou too suspectest treason?"

"It is no matter. From whom? From Byzantium? From without? From the Prefect?"