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Hymettus marble, led to the little garden-harbour, in which rocked the
light-oared gondolas with their lateen sails of purple linen-cloth,
fastened with silver chains to the ornamental rams'-heads fixed right
and left upon the marble quay.

At the side of the lattice-gate towards the garden, the grounds ended
in a spacious rotunda, which was surrounded with broad and shady pines.
The ground was laid out with carefully-tended grassplots, intersected
by neat paths, and diversified by gay beds of sweet-scented flowers. A
spring, ornamentally enclosed, ran down the declivity into the sea. In
the centre of this place was a small and antique Temple of Venus,
overtopped by a single palm-tree, while burning-red saxifrage grew
in the now empty niches of its outer walls. At the right of its
long-closed door stood a bronze statue of AEneas. The Julius Caesar to
the left had fallen centuries ago. Theodoric had placed upon its
pedestal a bronze statue of Amala, the mythic forefather of his house.

Between these statues, from the steps of the little fane, was a
splendid view through the lattice-gate over the sea, with its woody
lagoon-islands, and a group of jagged rocks, called "the Needles of the
Amphitrites."

This had been a favourite resort of Camilla's childhood. And it was
hither that she now bent her steps, lightly brushing the plentiful dew
from the high grass as, with slightly-lifted garments, she hastened
along the narrow pathway. She wished to behold the sun rise glowing
from the sea.

She advanced from behind the temple, passed to the estrade on the left,
and had just set her foot upon the first step which led from the front
of the temple to the lattice-gate, when she caught sight of a white
figure reclining on the second step, with the head leaning against the
balustrade and the face turned towards the sea.

She recognised the black and silky hair; it was the young King.

The meeting was so unexpected that there was no possibility of avoiding
it. As if rooted to the ground, she stood still upon the first step.

Athalaric sprang up and quickly turned. His pallid face was illumined
by a vivid flush. But he was the first to recover himself, and said:

"Forgive, Camilla. I could not expect you to come here at this hour. I
will go; and leave you alone with the rising sun."

And he flung his white mantle over his shoulder.

"Remain, King of the Goths. I have no right to scare you away--and no
intention," she