But now----"
"But now?" repeated Mataswintha, turning pale.
"They intend thee for another. My brother, the army, and our enemies in
Ravenna and the opposite camp, are all agreed. Soon a thousand voices
will call thee, the victim, to the bridal altar. I cannot bear to think
of it! Such a soul, such beauty, a sacrifice to an unloved marriage
bond!"
"Let them come!" said Mataswintha. "We will see if they can force me!"
And she pressed the dagger which she carried in her girdle to her
heart. "Who is the new despot who threatens me?"
"Do not ask!" cried Arahad. "Thy enemy, who is not worthy of thee; who
does not love thee; he--but follow me--fly! They already approach!"
Horses' hoofs were heard outside.
"I remain! Who can force the will of the grandchild of Theodoric?"
"No; thou shalt not, must not, fall into the hands of those heartless
men, who value neither thee nor thy beauty, but only thy right to the
crown. Follow me----"
At this moment the curtain at the entrance of the tent was pushed
aside. Earl Teja entered. Two Gothic boys, dressed in festive garments
of white silk, followed him; they bore a purple cushion, covered with a
veil.
Teja advanced to the middle of the tent, and kneeled before
Mataswintha. He, like the boys, wore a green spray of rue round his
helmet. But his eyes and brow were gloomy, as he said:
"I greet thee. Queen of the Goths and Italians!"
Mataswintha looked at him amazed.
Teja rose, went up to the boys, took a golden circlet and a green
wreath of rue from the cushion, and said:
"I give thee the bridal wreath and the crown, Mataswintha, and invite
thee to the wedding and coronation; the litter awaits thee."
Arahad laid his hand on his sword.
"Who sends thee?" asked Mataswintha, with a beating heart, but her hand
upon her dagger.
"Who but Witichis, the King of the Goths?"
On hearing this a ray of ineffable joy shone from Mataswintha's
beautiful eyes. She raised both hands to heaven and cried:
"Thanks, O heaven! Thy stars and my true heart are not belied. I knew
it!"
She took the coronet into her white hands and pressed it firmly upon
her golden hair.
"I am ready," she said. "Lead me to thy master and mine."
And she majestically held out her hand to Earl Teja, who reverently led
her out of the tent.
But Arahad looked after her in speechless wonder as she disappeared,
his hand still upon his sword.
He was roused by the entrance of Eurich, one of h
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