Volume Ii Part 35 (2/2)

We killed them _all_, _all_, and burnt the house down over the inhabitants. Meantime Rauthgundis looked on without a word, keeping watch by the little corpse and leaning on her sword; and the next day she sent me on beforehand to tell you. Shortly after, as soon as she had burnt the little corpse, she followed me. And as I have lost a day, being hindered by the rebels from taking the shortest road, she may arrive at any hour.”'

”My child, my child! my poor wife! This is the first produce of this unhappy crown! And now,” he cried to the old man, with all the impetuosity of pain, ”wilt thou still demand that cruel sacrifice? that unbearable sacrifice?”

Hildebrand slowly rose.

”Nothing is unbearable that is necessary. Winter is bearable, and age, and death. They come, and we bear it. Because we must. But I hear the voices of women, and rustling garments. Let us go.”

Witichis turned from him to the door.

There, under the lifted curtain of the tent, stood Rauthgundis, his wife, dressed in grey garments and a black veil, and pressing a small black urn to her bosom.

A cry of loving pain and painful love; and the husband and wife were locked in a close embrace.

Silently the witnesses left the tent.

CHAPTER XV.

Outside Teja held the old man back by his mantle.

”Thou torturest the King in vain,” he said. ”He will never consent. Now least of all!”

”How dost thou know?” interrupted the old man.

”Peace; I guess it. As I guess all misfortune.”

”Then thou wilt also acknowledge that he _must_ consent.”

”He--_he_ will not do it.”

”But--thou meanest her?”

”Perhaps!”

”She will!” cried Hildebrand.

”Yes, she is a wonder of a woman,” answered Teja.

While, during the next few days, the now childless pair lived in quiet seclusion, and Witichis scarcely ever left his tent, it happened that the outposts of the royal besiegers and the sentries of the Gothic garrison of Ravenna--taking advantage of the armistice which, as a matter of fact, had ensued--entered into frequent communication.

Scolding and disputing, they reproached each other with being the cause of the civil war.

The besiegers complained that the garrison had closed the gates of his royal fortress upon the King during the greatest distress of the nation. The Ravennese blamed Witichis for depriving the daughter of the Amelungs of her rights.

As old Earl Grippa was making the round of the walls, he listened, un.o.bserved, to one of these conversations.

He suddenly came forward, and called to Witichis's soldiers who were standing below, praising their King.

”Indeed?” he cried; ”is it acting n.o.bly and rightly to attack us like a madman, instead of giving an answer to our moderate demand? And he could so easily spare the blood of the Goths! We only want Mataswintha for our Queen! Well, can he not remain King? Is it so hard to share throne and couch with the most beautiful woman in the world, with the Princess Beautiful-hair,' of whose charms the singers sing in the streets? Must so many thousand brave Goths die, rather than that? Well then, let him continue to attack. We will see which breaks down first; his obstinacy or these walls!”

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