Witichis listened to these acclamations with a look full of pride and pain, and Teja whispered to him: "Now thou seest that thou hast saved the kingdom." "Up! lead us to victory!" cried Hildebad, "for Guntharis and Arahad approach! They think to surprise us without a chief and in complete disorder. At them! They shall find themselves mistaken. At them! and down with the rebels!" "Down with the rebels!" thundered the soldiers, glad to find an outlet for their excited passions. But the King made a sign. "Peace! No more shall Gothic blood flow from wounds made by Gothic weapons. Wait patiently here. Thou, Hildebad, open the gate for me. None shall follow me. I alone go to the rebels. Thou, Earl Teja, control the troops until I return. But thou, Hildebrand," he cried, raising his voice, "ride to the gates of Ravenna, and loudly bid them open. Their desire is fulfilled, and, before evening, we will enter: King Witichis and Queen Mataswintha." He spoke these words with such sorrowful dignity, that the hearers received them in reverent silence. Hildebad opened the gate of the camp. Without could be discerned the rebels, approaching at a quick march; loudly sounded their war-cry as the gate opened. King Witichis gave his sword to Earl Teja, and rode slowly to meet them. The gate closed behind him. "He seeks death," whispered Hildebad. "No," said Teja, "he seeks the salvation of the Goths." On recognising the solitary horseman, the rebels were amazed. Near the brothers--who marched at the head of the troops--rode the chief of the Avarian archers. He held his hand over his small and twinkling eyes and cried: "By the horse of the war-god, that is the King himself! Now, my boys, sons of the steppes, aim well, and the war is over!" and he quickly took his bow from his shoulder. "Stop, Chan Warchun," cried Duke Guntharis, laying his mailed hand upon the other's shoulder. "Thou hast sadly erred twice in the same breath. Thou hast called Earl Witichis the King: that may be forgiven thee. Thou wouldst murder him who comes as a messenger of peace. That may be Avarian, but is not Gothic custom. Away with thee and thy troop out of my camp!" The Chan started and looked at Guntharis in astonishment. "Away, at once!" repeated Duke Guntharis. The Avarian laughed and signed to his horsemen. "'Tis all one to me. Children, we go to Belisarius. Queer people, these Goths! Giant bodies with children's hearts!" Meanwhile Witichis had ridden up. Guntharis and Arahad looked at him inquiringly. Unusual solemnity was added to the customary simple dignity of his manner; the majesty of deep grief. "I come to speak with you of the welfare of the Goths. Brother shall slay brother no more. Let us enter Ravenna together, and together conquer Belisarius. I shall wed Mataswintha, and you two shall stand nearest to my throne." "Never!" cried Arahad passionately. "Thou forgettest," said Duke Guntharis proudly, "that thy bride is in _our_ tents."