on. They have bequeathed to their
children their love of pleasure and fostered it in them. And the
iniquity of the fathers is also avenged upon us in other ways, but
without any miracle of the saints. That the Catholics, tortured for
years, turned to the Emperor against us; that the Ostrogoths aid our
foes, are certainly punishments for the iniquity of our fathers. But
God needs to work no miracle for that; indeed, he would be compelled to
work a miracle to prevent it. And Ammata--is he innocent? Against your
command he dashed recklessly into the battle. And Thrasaric? Instead of
leaving the disobedient boy to his fate, according to his duty as
General, and not attacking until Gibamund was at hand, he followed only
the ardent desire of his heart to save your darling. And--"

He hesitated.

"And the King?" Gelimer went on. "Instead of doing his duty, he
succumbs at the sight of the dead. But that is the curse, the vengeance
of the Lord."

"No," replied Zazo. "This, too, is no miracle. This is because you,
also, O brother, are no longer a true Vandal; I have said so before.
You are absorbed,--not like the people, in luxury and pleasure,--but in
brooding. And again it is a consequence of the misdeed of the father;
if you had not when a boy witnessed that horrible scene of torture--But
it is useless to ask how the past is to blame for the present; the aim
should be to do our duty to-day, to-morrow, every day, firmly,
faithfully, and without brooding. Then we shall conquer, and that will
be well; or we shall fall like men, and that, too, is no evil thing. We
can do no more than our duty. And the dear Lord in Heaven will deal
with our souls according to His mercy. I am not anxious about mine, if
I fall in battle for my people."

"Oh," cried Hilda, joyously, "that does one good. It is like the fresh
north wind scattering the sultry mists."

Sorrowfully but with no reproach in his tone, Gelimer answered: "Yes,
the sound man cannot understand why the sick man does not sing and
leap. I _must_ 'brood,' as you call it; I cannot do otherwise. Yet
often I think my way through. Often I, too, in my way, break through
the mists. So now, by fervent prayer, I have again won my way to the
old strong consolation. Verus, my confessor, knows these conflicts and
the cause of my victory: right is on my side. I am not a usurper, as
the Emperor falsely calls me. Hilderic, the assassin, was justly
deposed. No guilt cleaves to me; I have done