"Spare your smiles," said Belisarius. "I admire the man, and I cannot take it amiss that he thinks I am capable of revolt. Have I not pretended to be so?" and he stamped his foot. "Now advise and help me! You have led me to this miserable alternative. I cannot say yes; and if I say no--I may look upon the Emperor's army as annihilated, and, into the bargain, must confess that I pretended to revolt!" Cethegus reflected in silence, slowly stroking his chin with his left hand. Suddenly a thought seemed to flash across his mind. A ray of joy beautified his face. "In this way I can ruin them both," he said to himself. At this moment he was exceedingly contented with himself. But first he wished to make sure of Belisarius. "Reasonably, you can only do one of two things," he said hesitatingly. "Speak: I see neither the one nor the other." "Either really accept----" "Prefect!" cried Belisarius in a rage, and put his hand on his sword. Procopius caught his arm in alarm. "Not another such word, Cethegus, if you value your life!" "Or," continued Cethegus quietly, "seem to accept. Enter Ravenna without a stroke of the sword, and send the Gothic crown, together with the Gothic King, to Byzantium." "That is splendid!" cried Procopius. "It is treason!" cried Belisarius. "It is both," said Cethegus calmly. "I could never look a Goth in the face again!" "It will not be necessary. You will take the King a prisoner to Byzantium. The disarmed nation will cease to be a nation." "No, no, I will not do it." "Good. Then let your whole army make its will. Farewell, Belisarius. I go to Rome. I have not the least desire to see fifty thousand Goths fighting in despair. And how Emperor Justinian will praise the destroyer of his best army!" "It is a terrible alternative!" cried Belisarius. Cethegus slowly approached him. "Belisarius," he said, with a voice which seemed to come from his very heart, "you have often held me to be your enemy. And I am, in some sort, your adversary. But who can be near Belisarius in the field of battle and not admire him!" His manner had a suavity and solemnity seldom seen in the sarcastic Prefect. Belisarius was touched, and even Procopius wondered. "I am your friend whenever possible. In this case I will prove my friendship by giving you good advice. Do you believe me, Belisarius?" And he laid his left hand upon the heroes shoulder, and offered him his right, looking frankly into his eyes. "Yes," said Belisarius. "Who can mistrust such a look!" "See, Belisarius! Never has a noble man had such a distrustful master as yours. The Emperor's last letter is the greatest offence to your fidelity." "Heaven knows it!"