"Prefect of Rome," said Johannes, "I am come to beg pardon for an old injury. The pain I felt at the loss of my brother Perseus made me suspicious." "Let that rest," said Cethegus; "it is forgotten." "But I have not forgotten," continued Johannes, "your heroic valour. In order at once to honour it and profit by it, I come to you with a proposal. I and my comrades, used to Belisarius's straightforward attacks, find the caution of the great Narses very tiresome. We have now been lying for nearly two months before this cursed pass; we lose men and win no renown. The commander-in-chief will starve the barbarians out. Who knows how long that may last? And there will be a fine butchery if, at last driven by despair, the barbarians break out and sell dearly every drop of their blood! It is clear that if we only had the mouth of that confounded pass----" "Yes, _if_!" said Cethegus, smiling. "It is not ill-defended by this Teja." "Just on that account he must fall! He, the King, is evidently the only one who holds together the whole loose bundle of spears. Therefore I and more than a dozen of the best blades in the camp have formed a league. Whenever it is the King's turn to guard the pass--the approach is so narrow and steep, that only one at a time can attempt a hand-to-hand fight--we, one after the other, taking our turns by lot, will attack him; the others will keep as close as possible to the foremost combatant, will save him if wounded, step into his place when he falls, or, if he is victor and slays the Goth, press forward into the ravine. Besides me, there are the Longobardians Alboin, Gisulf, and Autharis, the Herulians Rodulf and Suartua, Ardarich the Gepide, Gunebad the Burgundian, Chlotachar and Bertchramn the Franks, Vadomar and Epurulf the Alamannians, Garizo the tall Bajuvar, Kabades the Persian, Althias the Armenian, and Taulantius the Illyrian. We should much like to have your terrible sword among us. Will you, Cethegus, be one in our league? I know you hate this black-haired hero." "Gladly," said Cethegus, "as long as I am here. But I shall soon exchange this camp for the Capitol." A strange and mocking smile passed across the face of Johannes, which did not escape Cethegus. But he attributed it to a wrong feeling. "You cannot well doubt my courage," he said, "according to your own words. But there are more important things for me to do than to stamp out the last glimmering sparks of the Gothic war. The orphaned city longs for her Prefect. The Capitol beckons me." "The Capitol!" repeated Johannes. "I think, Cethegus, that a heroic death is also worth something." "Yes, when the aim of one's life is reached."