r which he is at liberty to bide in
Constantinople while he will and to return to his bishopric in Egypt
when it pleases him. Also, if he holds that any have harmed him, he may
make complaint, and it shall be considered without delay."

I took the parchment, read it, and laid it on the table, saying:

"The commands of the Empress shall be done. Is there aught else,
Martina?"

"Yes. To-morrow morning you will be relieved of your office, and another
governor--Stauracius and Aetius are quarrelling as to his name--will
take your place."

"And I?"

"You will resume your post as captain of the private guard, only with
the rank of a full general of the army. But that I told you yesterday.
It is now confirmed."

I said nothing, but a groan I could not choke broke from my lips.

"You do not seem as pleased as you might be, Olaf. Tell me, now, at what
hour did you leave the palace last night? While waiting for my mistress
to summon me I fell asleep in the vestibule of the ante-room, and when I
awoke and went into that room I found there the gold-broidered silk robe
you wore, cast upon the ground, and your armour gone."

"I know not what was the hour, Martina, and speak no more to me, I pray,
of that accursed womanish robe."

"Which you treated but ill, Olaf, for it is spotted as though with
blood."

"The Augustus spilt some wine over it."

"Aye, my mistress told me the story. Also that of how you would
have eaten the poisoned fig, which you snatched from the lips of
Constantine."

"And what else did your mistress tell you, Martina?"

"Not much, Olaf. She was in a very strange mood last night, and while I
combed her hair, which, Olaf, was as tangled as though a man had handled
it," and she looked at me till I coloured to the eyes, "and undid her
diadem, that was set on it all awry, she spoke to me of marriage."

"Of marriage!" I gasped.

"Certainly--did I not speak the word with clearness?--of marriage."

"With whom, Martina?"

"Oh! grow not jealous before there is need, Olaf. She made no mention of
the name of our future divine master, for whosoever can rule Irene, if
such a one lives, will certainly rule us also. All she said was that she
wished she could find some man to guide, guard and comfort her, who grew
lonely amidst many troubles, and hoped for more sons than Constantine."

"What sort of a man, Martina? This Emperor Charlemagne, or some other
king?"

"No. She vowed that she had seen enough of pri