The dying man faintly opened his eyes. "Where are they?" he asked. "Beaten and fled!" "Ah! victory!" cried Valerius, breathing anew. "I die happy! And Valeria--my child--is she saved?" "She is. Escaped from the naval combat, and from the sea itself, I hastened to warn Neapolis and save you. I had landed near the high-road between your house and Neapolis; there I met Valeria and learned your danger. One of my boats received her and her companions on board to take them to Neapolis; with the other I came here to save you--oh! only to revenge you!" and he laid his head upon the breast of the dying man. "Do not weep for me; I die victorious! And to you, my son, I owe it." He stroked the long fair locks of the sorrowing youth. "And Valeria's safety too! Oh! to you also, I hope, I shall owe the salvation of Italy. You are hero enough to save this country--in spite of Belisarius and Narses! You can--and you will--and your reward is the hand of my beloved child." "Valerius! my father!" "She is yours! But swear to me"--and Valerius raised himself with an effort and looked into Totila's eyes--"swear to me by the genius of Valeria that she shall not become your wife until Italy is free, and not a sod of her sacred soil is pressed by the foot of a Byzantine." "I swear it," cried Totila, enthusiastically pressing Valerius's hand, "by the genius of Valeria I swear it!" "Thanks, thanks, my son. Now I can die in peace--greet Valeria--in your hand is her fate--and that of Italia!" He laid his head back upon his shield, crossed his arms over his breast, and expired. Totila silently laid his hand upon the dead man's heart, and remained in this position for some time. A dazzling light suddenly roused him from his sad reverie; it was the sun, whose golden disk rose gloriously over the summit of the rocks. Totila stood up, and looked at the rising luminary. The sea glittered in the bright rays, and a golden light spread over the land. "By the genius of Valeria!" repeated Totila in a low voice, and stretched out his hand towards the glorious sun. Like the dead man he felt strengthened and comforted by his weighty oath; the sense of having a noble duty to perform elevated his feelings. He turned back, and ordered that the corpse should be carried to his ship, that it might be taken and deposited in the tomb of the Valerians at Neapolis. CHAPTER XI. During these portentous events the Goths had been by no means idle. But all measures of vigorous defence were paralysed, and, indeed, intentionally frustrated, by the cowardly treachery of the King. Theodahad had soon recovered from his consternation at the declaration of war on the part of Petros, for he could not and would not part with the conviction that it had only been made in order to keep up appearances and save the honour of the imperial government.