But now a very different, hateful feeling of malignant joy flashed across his mind. The barbarians had mistrusted him, they had despised him; now they should certainly be deceived! Coming forward with a keen look, he grasped the King's hand. "Be it so!" he said. "Be it so!" repeated Witichis, giving his hand a strong pressure. "I am glad that I was right and not Teja. Farewell! Guard our Rome! From you I will demand her again in honourable combat." And he left the house. "Well!" said Teja, who waited outside with the other Goths. "Shall I storm the house?" "No," said Witichis; "he has given his word." "If he will only keep it!" Witichis started back in indignation. "Teja! thy gloomy mind renders thee too unjust! Thou hast no right to doubt a hero's honour. Cethegus is a hero!" "He is a Roman! Good-night!" said Teja, sheathing his sword. And he turned another way with his Goths. But Cethegus tossed all night upon his couch. He was at variance with himself. He was vexed with Julius. He was bitterly vexed with Witichis, more bitterly still with Teja. But most with himself. The next day Witichis once again assembled people. Senate, and the clergy of the city, at the Thermæ of Titus. From the highest step of the marble staircase of the handsome building, which was filled with the leaders of the army, the King made a simple speech to the Romans. He declared that he must leave the city for a short time, but that he would soon return. He reminded them of the mildness of the Gothic government, of the benefits of Theodoric and Amalaswintha, and called upon them courageously to oppose Belisarius, in case of his advance, until the Goths returned to reinforce them. The newly-drilled legionaries and the strong fortifications made a long resistance possible. Finally he demanded the oath of allegiance, and asked them once more to defend their city to the death against Belisarius. The Romans hesitated; for their thoughts were already in Belisarius's camp, and they disliked to perjure themselves. Just at this crisis a solemn hymn was heard in the direction of the Via Sacra; and past the Flavian Amphitheatre came a long procession of priests, swinging censers, and singing psalms. In the night Pope Agapetus had died, and, in all haste, Silverius, the archdeacon, had been appointed as his successor. Solemnly and slowly the crowd of priests advanced; the insignia of the Bishop of Rome were carried in front; choristers with silvery voices sang sweet and sacred airs. At last the Pope's litter appeared open, richly gilt, and shaped like a boat. The bearers walked slowly, step by step, in time to the music; pressed upon by crowds of people, who were eager to receive the blessing of their new Bishop. Silverius bent his head to the right and left, and blessed the people repeatedly. A number of priests and a troop of mercenaries, armed with spears, closed the procession.