risoner fill up this empty space with a
name--the name of the castle in which the treasure of the Goths is
concealed--and sign the declaration. He refuses to do this with a
stubbornness which begins to anger me. Seven times I, the conqueror,
have been to him. He would never yet speak to me. And the first time I
went I received a look for which alone he deserves to lose his haughty
head."

"He will never consent!"

"That remains to be seen. The continual dropping of water wears away a
stone at last. But I can wait no longer. Early to-day I received word
that that mad Hildebad, in a furious sally, has beaten Bessas so
thoroughly, that the latter can scarcely continue the siege. Everywhere
the Goths rebel. I must go and make an end of it, and extinguish these
last sparks with the water of deception, which is better than blood. To
this end I must have the King's declaration, and the secret of the
castle. Therefore I tell you that if, before to-morrow, you do not
consent to accompany the Prince to Byzantium, and have not procured for
me the signature of the prisoner, witnessed as such by yourself, I
will--I swear by the Styx--kill----"

Horrified at the awful expression of Cethegus's face, Mataswintha
started from her seat and grasped his arm.

"You will not kill _him_!"

"Yes; or rather, I will first torture him, then blind him, and
afterwards kill him!"

"No! no!" screamed Mataswintha.

"I am resolved. The executioners are ready. And you, you shall tell him
this. He will believe that I am in earnest when he sees your despair.
You will perhaps be able to soften him; the sight of me only hardens
him. Perhaps he thinks that he is still in the hands of Belisarius,
that tender-hearted hero. You will tell him in whose power he really
is. Here are the documents--here the keys which open his prison. You
shall choose the hour yourself."

A ray of joyful hope shone from Mataswintha'a eyes. Cethegus failed not
to remark it, but, smiling calmly, he left the room.

CHAPTER XXVII.

Soon after the Prefect had left the Queen it became quite dark.

The sky was thickly covered with ragged clouds, which were driven
across the moon by the fierce wind, so that brief and uncertain light
alternated with a gloom rendered greater by contrast.

Dromon had completed his evening round of the cells, and returned to
his dwelling tired and sad.

He found no light within. He could scarcely make out th