"It may be no matter to you, Roman--what matters to you a myriad of our troops?--but not so to Narses. The terrible surprise, the still more terrible necessity of making a choice, quite prostrated him. A severe attack of his malady came on, and as he sank down, he gave me his commander's staff, and I, of course, accepted the conditions----" "Of course, Pylades must save Orestes!" said Cethegus in a rage. "And, besides, ten thousand men of the imperial army!" "I am not bound by this agreement," cried Cethegus; "I shall again attack." "You dare not! Teja has taken most of his prisoners and all the captains with him as hostages--he will slay them if another arrow be shot?" "Let him slay them! I shall attack." "See whether the Byzantines will follow you! I at once communicated the order of Narses to your troops: for now _I_ am Narses." "You shall die, as soon as Narses has recovered his senses!" But Cethegus perceived that he could do nothing against the Goths with his mercenaries alone. For when Teja had retreated to the cloister and chapel hill and the Flaminian Way with his prisoners, and Hildebrand's wing had also reached the road with little loss of life--for the two rivers, and then the news of the truce, had checked the pursuit attempted by Johannes--the Goths had gathered the rest of their troops together and taken up a safe position. Cethegus waited with impatience for the recovery of Narses, who he hoped would never acknowledge the agreement concluded by his representative. CHAPTER XXI. Meanwhile Teja and Hildebrand had arrived upon the chapel hill, whither, as they had been apprised, the wounded King had been carried. News of later events had not yet reached them. Before they entered the walls which enclosed the grove before the chapel, the two leaders had agreed upon the plan which they would propose to the King. There was no other way but to retreat to the south under the protection of the truce. But when they entered the grove, what a sight met their view! Sobbing loudly, Adalgoth hurried up to Teja, and led him to an ancient and ivy-grown sarcophagus. Within it, upon his shield, lay King Totila. The majesty of death gave to his noble features a solemnity that made them more beautiful than they had ever been when brightened by joy. On his left hand rested Julius, in the open hollow cover of the sarcophagus, which had long since fallen from its proper place. Under the common shadow of death, the resemblance between the "Dioscuri" was more striking and touching than ever. And between the two friends lay a third form, which had been carefully laid by Gotho and Liuta upon the King's blood-stained mantle. Upon a gently-rising mound lay Valeria, the Roman virgin.