Excepting the general dislike to the barbarians--which, however, was by no means strong enough to support the sacrifices and self-denial necessary to the accomplishment of difficult political plans--what different and often what small motives had led these men together! Cethegus knew exactly the motives of each individual: had he not been able to influence them by taking advantage of their foibles? And, after all, he could not but rejoice at this, for he could never have brought true Romans so completely under his influence as he had done these conspirators. But as he now looked at the assembled patriots, and reflected how one had been induced to join the discontented, in the hope of a title from Byzantium; another by bribery; another from revenge or on account of some personal offence, or even from tedium, or debts, or some foolish dilemma; and when he told himself that with _such_ colleagues he must meet the warriors of the Gothic army--he almost shrank from the temerity of his plan. It was some relief to him, when the clear voice of Lucius Licinius attracted his looks to the troop of young "knights," whose truly martial courage and national enthusiasm were expressed on their features; there at least he had a few trustworthy weapons. "Welcome! Lucius Licinius," he said, as he stepped out of the darkness of the passage, "Ha, ha! you are mailed and armed as if we were going straight from hence to meet the barbarians!" "I can scarcely contain myself for joy and hate!" cried the handsome youth. "Look here, all these I have won for you, for the cause of the fatherland." Cethegus looked round and greeted the others. "You here also, Kallistratos? you merry son of peace!" "Hellas will not desert her sister Italia in the hour of danger," said the Greek, and laid his white hand upon his elegant, ivory-hilted sword. Cethegus nodded to him and turned to the rest; Marcus Licinius, Piso, Massurius, Balbus, who, completely won for the Prefect since the feast of the Floralia, had brought with them their brothers, cousins, and friends. Cethegus looked searchingly through the groups; he seemed to miss some one. Lucius Licinius guessed his thoughts. "You seek the dark Corsican, Furius Ahalla? You must not reckon upon him. I sounded him thoroughly, but he said: 'I am a Corsican--no Roman. My trade flourishes under Gothic protection. Leave me out your game.' And when I pressed him further--for I would gladly win his brave sword and the many thousands of hands which he commands--he said abruptly: 'I will not fight against Totila.'" "The Gods alone know what binds the wild tiger to that milksop," said Piso. Cethegus smiled, but frowned as well. "I think we Romans will suffice," he said in a loud voice; and the youths looked at him with beating hearts. "Open the assembly," said Scævola impatiently to Silverius. "You see how he talks over the young people; he will win them all. Interrupt him; speak!"