Volume Ii Part 8 (2/2)

At this each man's sword flashed in the light, and a louder cry arose: ”All hail, King Witichis!”

Old Hildebrand now descended from his place and said:

”I leave this high seat, for the place now belongs to our king. Only once again let me perform the office of the Ting-Earl. If I cannot hang the purple on thy shoulders, O King, which the Amelungs have worn; nor reach to thee their golden sceptre--take, at least, my judge's mantle and the staff of justice for a sceptre; as a sign that thou wert chosen for thy justice' sake. I cannot press Theodoric's golden circlet, the old Gothic crown, upon thy brow, then take the first leaves of the oak which thou resemblest in trustiness and strength.”

With these words he broke a tender shoot of the oak and bound it round Witichis' brow.

”Up, Gothic warriors! fulfil your office with the s.h.i.+eld!”

Haduswinth, Teja, and Hildebad took the ancient Ting-s.h.i.+eld, lifted the King, who was now crowned with wreath, staff, and mantle, and raised him on their shoulders in sight of all the people.

”Behold, O Goths, your King, whom you yourselves have chosen, and swear allegiance to him!”

And they swore--standing upright, not kneeling=-to true to him till death.

Witichis sprang from the s.h.i.+eld, ascended the Ting-seat and cried:

”As you swear fidelity to me, so do I to you. I will be a mild and just king; I will do right and prevent wrong. I will remember that you are free, like me, and not my slaves. And I dedicate my life, my happiness, all that is mine, to you, to the people of the good Goths! I swear it by the G.o.d of Heaven, and by my throne.”

And taking the Ting-s.h.i.+eld from the tree, he cried:

”The Ting is over. I dissolve the a.s.sembly.”

The sajones at once knocked down the hazel staffs with the cords, and in disorderly confusion the ma.s.ses mingled over the wide plain.

The Romans, who, curiously but shyly, had observed from a distance this custom of a free people, such as Italy had not witnessed for more than five hundred years, now also mixed freely with the Gothic soldiers, to whom they sold wine and meat.

Witichis prepared to go with his friends and the leaders of the army to one of the tents which were erected on the bank of the river.

There a man in Roman costume--as it seemed, a well-to-do citizen--pressed among his followers, and asked eagerly for Earl Teja, the son of Tagila.

”I am he. What would you, Roman?” asked Teja, turning.

”Nought, sir, except to deliver this vase to you. See, the seal, the scorpion, is intact.”

”What shall I do with the vase? I buy no such things.”

”The vase is yours, sir. It is full of doc.u.ments and rolls which belong to you. My guest desired me to give it to you. I beg you, take it.”

And he pressed the vase into Teja's hand, and disappeared amid the crowd.

Teja broke the seal indifferently, and took the doc.u.ments out.

Indifferently he looked at them.

But suddenly a vivid flush overspread his pale cheeks, his eyes flashed, and he convulsively bit his lip. The vase fell to the ground as he rushed up to Witichis, and said, in an almost toneless voice:

”My King! King Witichis, a favour!”

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