Volume I Part 17 (2/2)
”Be not troubled about that, your Majesty! I have been his master,”
continued the speaker, turning to the a.s.sembly: ”I tell you that he can measure his strength against any foe; and whom old Hildebrand declares capable of bearing arms is considered so by all the Goths.”
Loud applause from all the Goths present confirmed this a.s.sertion.
Again Cethegus would have put in his word, but a movement behind the curtain drew his attention away. ”It is one of my greatest enemies, but who?” he thought.
”There is yet an important matter to make known to you,” again began the King with a hasty glance at the niche, which did not escape Cethegus.
”Perhaps an accusation against me,” thought the latter; ”they want to take me by surprise? They shall not succeed!”
But it surprised him, after all, when the King suddenly called in a loud voice:
”Prefect of Rome! Cethegus Caesarius!”
Cethegus started; but, quickly recovering himself, bent his head and answered: ”My Lord and King!”
”Have you nothing to announce from Rome? What is the feeling of the Quirites? What do people think of the Goths?”
”They are honoured as the people of Theodoric.”
”Are they feared?”
”There is no cause to fear them.”
”Are they loved?”
Gladly would the Prefect have replied, ”There is no cause to love them;” but the King himself continued:
”So there is no trace of discontent? No cause for uneasiness? Nothing particular in preparation?”
”I have nothing to communicate.”
”Then you are badly informed, Prefect of Rome, or badly disposed! What?
must I--who have scarcely risen from my sick-bed here at Ravenna--tell you what happens in Rome under your very eyes? The workmen on your bulwarks sing satirical songs against the Goths, against the Queen, against me. Your legions use threatening words while practising the use of their arms. Most probably there exists already a widespread conspiracy, with senators and priests at its head. They a.s.semble by night in secret places. An accomplice of Boethius, a banished man, Albinus, has been seen in Rome, and do you know where? In the garden of your house.”
All eyes--either in astonishment, rage, or fear--were fixed upon Cethegus. Amalaswintha trembled for the object of her trust. But he was now quite himself again. Quiet, cool, and silent, he looked full at the King.
”Justify yourself!” exclaimed the King.
”Justify myself? Against a shadow, a report? Against an accusation without accusers? Never!”
”We shall know how to force you.”
The Prefect's thin lips curled with contempt.
”I may be murdered upon mere suspicion, without doubt--we Italians have experienced such a thing--but not condemned. There can be no justification opposed to force.”
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