sailors sprang into it,
and soon they climbed the steps of the quay, where, besides Cethegus
and his companions, a crowd of people had collected, who, from the
palace or the gardens, had with horror become aware of the danger of
the little boat, and now hurried to greet the rescued King.

Accompanied by felicitations and blessings, Athalaric mounted the
steps.

"Behold!" he said, on arriving at the temple, "behold, Goths and
Romans! behold your Queen, my bride! The God of Death has united us. Is
it not so, Camilla?"

She looked up at him, but was terribly startled. The excitement
and the sudden change from horror to joy had fearfully shaken the
scarcely-recovered King. His countenance was pale as marble; he
tottered and convulsively pressed his hand to his breast, as though
suffocating.

"For God's sake!" cried Camilla, fearing an attack of his old malady.
"The King is unwell! Quick with the wine, the medicine!"

She flew to the table, caught up the silver cup which stood ready, and
pressed it into the King's hand.

Cethegus stood close by, and followed Athalaric's every movement with
eagerness. The latter had already lifted the cup to his lips, but
suddenly removed it, and said, smiling, to Camilla:

"Thou must drink to me, as becomes a Gothic Queen at her court."

And he gave her the goblet. She took it out of his hand.

For a moment the Prefect felt as if on fire.

He was upon the point of darting forward to dash the cup from her hand.
But he controlled himself. If he did so, he was irrevocably lost. Not
only tomorrow, as guilty of high treason, but at once arrested and
accused of poisoning. And with him would be lost the future of Rome and
all his ideal world. And for whom? For a love-sick girl, who had
faithlessly revolted to his deadly enemy.

"No," he said coldly to himself, clenching his fist; "she or
Rome--therefore she!"

And he quietly looked on while the girl, sweetly blushing, sipped
somewhat of the wine, which the King then drank to the last dregs.

Athalaric shuddered as he replaced the cup upon the marble table.

"Come up to the palace," he said, shivering, and threw his mantle
across his shoulders; "I feel cold."

And he turned away. In doing so he caught sight of Cethegus, stood
still for a moment, and looked penetratingly into the Prefect's eyes.

"You here?" he said gloomily, and advanced a step towards him. All at
once he shuddered again, and, with a sudden cry, fell prone near t