"Injure the hero? In the devilish wickedness of her heart. Not openly, but by cunning and treachery; perhaps with secret poison, as has already happened; perhaps with secret fire." "Hold!" Mataswintha, who had just risen, staggered back to the table and leaned upon it. But the woman followed her and whispered softly: "I must tell thee of an incredible, shameful act! The King and the people believe that the lightning set the magazines on fire, but I know better. And _he_ shall know it. He shall be warned by _thee_, so that he may discover the rank offender. That night I saw a torch-light passing through the galleries of the magazines, and it was carried by a woman. _Her_ hand cast it amongst the stores! Thou shudderest? Yes, a _woman_. Wherefore wilt thou go? Hear one other word, and I will leave thee. The name? I do not know it. But the woman fell just at my feet, and, recovering, escaped; but as she went, she lost a sign and means of recognition--this snake of emeralds." And the woman held up a bracelet in the light of the lamp. Mataswintha, tortured to death, started upright. She held both arms over her face. The hasty movement disturbed her kerchief. Her red-gold hair fell over her shoulders, and through the hair gleamed a golden bracelet with an emerald snake, which encircled her left arm. The woman saw it and screamed: "Ha! by the God of the faithful! It was thou--thou thyself! _His_ Queen--his _wife_ has betrayed him! He shall know it! Curses upon thee!" With a piercing cry, Mataswintha fell back upon her couch and buried her face in the cushions. The scream brought Aspa from the adjoining room. But when she entered, the Queen was alone. The curtain of the door still rustled. The beggar had disappeared. CHAPTER XXIII. The next morning Procopius, Johannes, Demetrius, Bessas, Acacius, Vitalius, and many other Byzantine leaders arrived in the city, and, to the great astonishment of the Ravennese, entered the King's palace. They assembled there to take counsel as to particular stipulations, and to decide upon the form of surrender. Meanwhile the Goths heard only that peace was concluded. The two principal considerations, for the sake of which they had endured all the grievous war, were obtained. They would be free, and remain in undisturbed possession of the lovely Southland, which had become so dear to them. That was far more than could have been expected, considering the desperate state at which the Gothic cause had arrived since the retreat from Rome and the inevitable loss of Ravenna; and the heads of the great families, and other influential men in the army, who were now made acquainted with the intentions of Belisarius, were completely satisfied with the conditions agreed upon. The few who refused acquiescence were freely allowed to depart from Ravenna and Italy. But, apart from this, the Gothic army in Ravenna had already been dispersed in all directions.