"I must have her alone," he said, and passed through the curtain. On seeing him, the beautiful girl rose from the cushions on which she had been resting, lost in helpless reverie. Accustomed to find in this wise and commanding man, her father's old friend, a constant adviser, she greeted him trustfully, as a patient greets his physician. "You know, Cethegus?" "Everything!" "And you bring me help and comfort?" "I bring you revenge, Camilla!" That was a new and startling idea! Hitherto to fly, to save herself from this torturing position, had been her only thought. At the most, an angry rejection of the royal gift. But now, revenge! Compensation for all the pain she had suffered! Revenge upon the murderers of her father! Her heart was deeply wounded, and in her veins boiled the hot blood of the south. She rejoiced at the words of her tempter. "Revenge? Who will revenge me? You?" "You will revenge yourself; that will be sweeter." Her eyes flashed. "On whom?" "On him. On his house. On all your enemies." "How can I, a weak and timid girl?" "Listen to me, Camilla. To you only, to the noble daughter of the noble Boëthius, will I unfold what I would trust to no other woman on earth. There exists a powerful league of patriots, who have sworn to extirpate the barbarians from the face of this country. The sword of revenge hangs trembling over the heads of the tyrants. The fatherland and the shade of your father call upon you to cause it to fall." "Upon me? _I_--revenge my father? Speak!" cried the maiden, her face glowing as she stroked back the dark locks from her temples. "There must be a sacrifice. Rome demands it." "My blood, my life! Like Virginia will I die!" "No; you shall live to triumph in your revenge. The King loves you. You must go to Ravenna, to court. You shall destroy him by means of his love. We have no power over him, but you will gain the mastery over his soul." "Destroy him!" She seemed strangely moved as she spoke thus in a low voice. Her bosom heaved; her voice trembled with the force of her opposing feelings. Tears burst from her eyes, she buried her face in her hands. Cethegus rose from his seat. "Pardon me," he said, "I will go. I knew not--that you _loved_ the King." A scream of anger, like that of physical pain, escaped the maiden's lips; she sprang up and grasped his arm. "Man! who said so? I hate him! Hate him more than I ever knew I could hate!" "Then prove it, for I do not believe it." "I will prove it!" she cried; "he shall die!" She threw back her head; her eyes sparkled fiercely; her dark tresses fell over her shoulders. "She loves him," thought Cethegus; "but it matters not, for she does not know it. She is only conscious of hating him. All is well." "He shall not live," repeated Camilla. "You shall see," she added with a wild laugh--"you shall see how I love him! What must I do?" "Obey me in everything." "And what do you promise in return? What shall he suffer?" "Unrequited love."