He rushed up the incline, sprang upon a stone near Witichis, held on high a roll of parchment, cried with a last effort, "Treachery! treachery!" and fell prone, as if struck by lightning. Witichis and Hildebad ran to him; they had barely recognised their friend. "Teja! Teja!" they cried, "what has happened? Speak!" "Speak," repeated Witichis once more, "it concerns the kingdom!" At this word the steel-clad man raised himself with a superhuman effort, looked about him for a moment, and then said in a hollow voice: "We are betrayed, Goths! betrayed by our King! Six days ago I received orders to go to Istria, not to Neapolis, as I had begged. I felt suspicious, but I obeyed, and embarked with my thousands. A violent storm drove numerous small vessels towards us from the west. Amongst them was the _Mercurius_, the swift-sailing post-boat of Theodahad. I knew the vessel well; she once belonged to my father. As soon as she caught sight of our ships, she tried to evade us. I, mistrustful, chased her and overtook her. Her captain carried a letter to Byzantium, in the handwriting of the King. 'You will be content with me, great general,' it said, 'all the Gothic forces are at this moment on the north-east of Rome; you can land without danger. I have destroyed four letters from the Count of the Harbour of Neapolis, and thrown his messengers into a dungeon. In requital, I expect that you will punctually fulfil our contract, and shortly pay me the price fixed.'" Teja let the letter fall; his voice died away. The people uttered deep groans of rage. "I at once turned and landed, and have galloped here for three days and nights without pause. I can no more." And, staggering, he sank into the arms of Witichis. Then old Hildebrand sprang upon the highest stone of his seat, so that he towered above the crowd. He tore a lance, which bore a small marble bust of the King upon its cross-stick, out of the hands of the bearer, and held it aloft in his left hand. In his right he raised his stone-axe. "Sold!" he cried. "He has sold his people for yellow gold! Down with him! Down, down!" And with a stroke of his axe he shattered the bust. This action was the first thunder-clap that unchained the brooding tempest. Only to be compared to the strife of the elements was the wild storm which now arose amongst the multitude. "Down with him! down with Theodahad!" was repeated a thousand times, accompanied by the deafening clash of arms. Amidst this tumult the old master-at-arms again lifted up his metallic voice, silence once more ensued, and he said solemnly: