hful soldier, the captain of her own guard, sworn
to protect her from the slightest ill, me upon whom, for a while, it had
pleased her to lavish the wild passion of her imperial heart, who once
had almost loved--who, indeed, had kissed her on the lips.

My orders were definite. I was commanded to blind this woman and to kill
her in the blinding, which, in truth, I who had power of life and
death, I who ruled over this island like a king by virtue of the royal
commission, could do without question asked. If I _failed_ to fulfil
those orders, I must be prepared to pay the price, as if I did fulfil
them I might expect a high reward, probably the governorship of some
great province of the Empire. This was no common prisoner. She was the
ex-Empress, a mighty woman to whom tens of thousands or perhaps millions
still looked for help and leadership. It was necessary to those who
had seized her place and power that she should be rendered incapable of
rule. It was desirable to them that she should die. Yet so delicately
were the scales poised between them and the adherents of Irene, among
whom were numbered all the great princes of the Church, that they
themselves did not dare to inflict mutilation or death upon her. They
feared lest it should be followed by a storm of wrath that would shake
Nicephorus from his throne and involve them in his ruin.

So they sent her to me, the governor of a distant dependency, the man
whom they knew she had wickedly wronged, being certain that her tongue,
which it was said could turn the hearts of all men, would never soften
mine. Then afterwards they would declare that the warrant was a forgery,
that I had but wreaked a private vengeance upon an ancient foe, and, to
still the scandal, degrade me from my governorship--into some place of
greater power and profit.

Oh! while Irene pleaded before me and, heedless of the presence of Jodd,
even cast her arms about me and laid her head upon my breast, all these
things passed through my mind. In its scales I weighed the matter out,
and the beam rose against me, for I knew well that if I spared Irene I
condemned myself and those who were more to me than myself, my wife, my
children, and all the Northmen who clung to me, and who would not see me
die without blow struck. I understood it all, and, understanding, of a
sudden made up my mind--to spare Irene. Come what might, I would be no
butcher; I would follow my heart whithersoever it might lead me.

"Ce