ad retired, until
deep sleep of exhaustion overcame her.

Not long after, Cethegus, who had been hastily sent for, came to visit
the troubled woman.

Rusticiana would fain have followed her own and Camilla's first
impulse, to fly from the villa and the hated vicinity of the King, and
hide her child on the other side of the Alps. But Camilla's condition
had, till then, prevented their departure, and as soon as the Prefect
entered the house, the flame of their excitement seemed to sink before
his cold glances.

He took Rusticiana alone with him into the garden. Leaning his back
against a laurel-tree, and supporting his chin on his hand, he listened
quietly and attentively to her passionate recital.

"And now, speak," she concluded; "what shall I do? How shall I save my
poor child? Whither shall I take her?"

"Whither shall you take Camilla?" he repeated. "To the court, to
Ravenna."

Rusticiana started. "Why this ill-timed joke?"

But Cethegus quickly stood erect. "I am in earnest. Be quiet and
listen. Fate, that wills the destruction of the barbarians, could have
laid no more gracious gifts upon our path. You know how completely I
rule the Queen-regent, but you do not know how powerless I am over that
obstinate enthusiast, Athalaric. It is enigmatical. The sick youth is,
amongst all the nation, the only one who suspects, if he does not see
through, me; and I do not know whether he most fears or hates me. That
would be a matter of indifference to me if the audacious fellow did not
very decidedly and very successfully act against me. Naturally, his
opinion weighs heavily with his mother; often more than mine; and he
will always grow older, riper, and more dangerous. His spirit exceeds
his years; he takes a grave part in the councils of the Regency, and
always speaks against me; he often prevails. 'Twas but lately that,
against my will, he succeeded in giving the command of the Gothic
troops in Rome, in _my_ Rome, to that bilious Teja. In short, the young
King becomes highly dangerous. Until now I have not the shadow of
authority over him. He loves Camilla to his peril; through her we will
rule the unruly one."

"Never!" cried Rusticiana; "never as long as I breathe! _I_ at the
court of the tyrants! My child, Boethius's daughter, the beloved of
Athalaric! Her father's bloody ghost would----"

"Would you avenge that ghost? Yes. Would you ruin the Goths? Yes.
Therefore you must consent to everything which will