'You know nothing of me since then?' 'Nothing.' 'And I nothing of you, save that you were with the Gothic army, and honourably entertained. The king himself spoke to me of you, when, after long sickness, I came to his camp. He asked if it was my wish to see you; but I could not yet dare to stand before your face, and so I answered him. "It is well," said Totila. "Prove yourself in some service to the Goths and to your country, then I will speak with you again." And straightway he charged me with a duty which I the more gladly undertook because it had some taste of danger. He bade me enter Rome, and spread through the city a proclamation to the Roman people--' 'It was you who did that?' interrupted the listener. 'We heard of its being done, but not by what hand.' 'With a servant whom I can trust, disguised, he and I, as peasants bringing food to market, I entered Rome, and remained for two days within the gates; then returned to Totila. He next sent me to learn the strength of the Greek garrisons in Spoletium and Assisium, and how those cities were provisioned; this task also, by good hap, I discharged so as to win some praise. Then the king again spoke to me of you. And as, before, I had not dared to approach you, so now I did not dare to wait longer before making known to you my shame and my repentance.' 'Of what sickness did you speak just now?' asked Veranilda, after a silence. He narrated to her his sojourn at the monastery, told of the penance he had done, of the absolution granted him by Benedict; whereupon a light came into Veranilda's eyes. 'There lives,' she exclaimed, 'no holier man!' 'None holier lived,' was Basil's grave answer. 'Returning from Assisium, I met a wandering anchorite, who told me of Benedict's death.' 'Alas!' 'But is he reverenced by those of your creed?' asked Basil in surprise. 'Of my creed? My faith is that of the Catholic Church.' For the first time their eyes met. Basil drew a step nearer; his face shone with joy, which for a moment held him mute. 'It was in the convent,' added Veranilda, 'that I learnt the truth. They whom I called my enemies wrought this good to me.' Basil besought her to tell him how she had been carried away from Surrentum, and all that had befallen her whilst she was a prisoner; he declared his ignorance of everything between their last meeting in the Anician villa and the dreadful day which next brought them face to face. As he said this, it seemed to him that Veranilda's countenance betrayed surprise. 'I forget,' he added, his head again falling, 'that your mind has been filled with doubt of me. How can I convince you that I speak truly? O Veranilda!' he exclaimed passionately, 'can you look at me, can you hear me speak, and still believe that I was ever capable of betraying you?' 'That I never believed,' she answered in a subdued voice. 'Yet I saw in your eyes some doubt, some hesitation.'