pearls contrasts with the green of
the stones."

"It was one of Cleopatra's treasures," said the Empress indifferently;
"the Jew swore to its pedigree."

"But you linger long," said Antonina. "Justinian's litter was already
waiting as I came up."

"Yes, mistress," said a young slave anxiously, "the slave at the
sundial has already announced the fourth hour. Hasten, mistress!"

A prick with the lancet was the only answer.

"Would you teach your Empress!" but she whispered to Antonina: "We must
not spoil the men; they must always wait for us, never we for them. My
ostrich fan, Thais. Go, Ione, tell the Cappadocian slaves to come to my
litter." And she turned to go.

"Oh, Theodora!" cried Antonina quickly, "do not forget my request."

"No," answered Theodora, suddenly standing still, "certainly not! And
that you may be quite sure, I will give the order into your own hands.
My wax-tablets and the stylus!"

Galatea brought them in haste.

Theodora wrote, and whispered to her friend:

"The Prefect of the harbour is one of my old friends. He blindly obeys
me. Read what I write."

"To Aristarchus the Prefect, Theodora the Empress.

"When Severinus, the son of Boethius, is about to go on board the ship
of Belisarius, keep him back, if necessary, by force; and send him to
my rooms. He is appointed my chamberlain."

"Is that right, dear sister?" she whispered.

"A thousand thanks!" said Antonina, with beaming eyes.

"But," said the Empress suddenly, putting her hand to her neck, "have
we forgotten the principal thing? My amulet! the Mercury. Please,
Antonina; there it hangs."

Antonina turned hastily to fetch the little golden Mercury, which hung,
by a silk cord, on the bed of the Empress.

Meanwhile Theodora quickly crossed out the word "Severinus," and wrote
instead "Anicius." She closed the tablets, tied them, and fastened the
string with her seal.

"Here is the amulet," said Antonina, returning.

"And here is the order," said the Empress, smiling. "You can give it to
Aristarchus yourself at the moment of departure. Now," she cried, "let
us go. To the church!"

CHAPTER XIX.

In Neapolis, that Italian city over which the tempest then gathering at
Byzantium was soon to burst in its first violence, no presentiment of
the coming danger was felt.

On the charming declivities of Posilippo, or on the shore to the
south-east of the city, there wandered, day by day, two