Upon Basil, who paused at a respectful distance, he fixed a gaze of meditative intentness, and gazed so long in silence that the Roman could not but at length lift his eyes. Meeting the glance with grave good nature, Totila spoke firmly and frankly. 'Lord Basil, they tell me that you crossed Italy to draw your sword in my cause. Is this the truth?' 'It is the truth, O king.' 'How comes it then that you are laden with the death of one who had long proved himself my faithful servant, one who, when you encountered him, was bound on a mission of great moment?' 'He whom I slew,' answered Basil, 'was the man whom of all men I most loved. I thought him false to me, and struck in a moment of madness.' 'Then you have since learnt that you were deceived?' Basil paused a moment. 'Gracious lord, that I accused him falsely, I no longer doubt, having had time to reflect upon many things, and to repent of my evil haste. But I am still ignorant of the cause which led him to think ill of me, and so to speak and act in a way which could not but make my heart burn against him.' 'Something of this too I have heard,' said the king, his blue eyes resting upon Basil's countenance with a thoughtful interest. 'You believe, then, that your friend was wholly blameless towards you, in intention and in act?' 'Save inasmuch as credited that strange slander, borne I know not upon what lips.' 'May I hear,' asked Totila, 'what this slander charged upon you?' Basil raised his head, and put all his courage into a brief reply. 'That I sought to betray the lady Veranilda into the hands of the Greeks.' 'And you think,' said the king slowly, meditatively, his eyes still searching Basil's face, 'that your friend could believe you capable of that?' 'How he could, I know not,' came the sad reply. 'Yet I must needs think it was so.' 'Why?' sounded from the king's lips abruptly, and with a change to unexpected sternness. 'What forbids you the more natural thought that this man, this Marcian, was himself your slanderer?' 'Thinking so, O king, I slew him. Thinking so, I defiled my tongue with base suspicion of Veranilda. Being now again in my right mind, I know that my accusation of _her_ was frenzy, and therefore I choose rather to believe that I wronged Marcian than that he could conceive so base a treachery.' Totila reflected. All but a smile as of satisfaction lurked within his eyes. 'Know you,' he next inquired, 'by what means Marcian obtained charge of the lady Veranilda?' 'Of that I am as ignorant as of how she was first carried into captivity.' 'Yet,' said the king sharply, 'you conversed with her after Marcian's death.' 'Gracious lord,' answered Basil in low tones, 'it were miscalled conversing. With blood upon my hands, I said I scarce knew what, and would not give ear to the words which should have filled me with remorse.' There was again a brief silence. Totila let his eyes stray for a moment, then spoke again meditatively.