y omen'----"

"'Is to die for the fatherland!' Grant me one more favour, Narses.
Allow me--for my Isaurians and tribunes are in Rome--to gather round me
all the Italians and Romans whom you have divided among your troops,
and lead them against the barbarians."

For one moment Narses hesitated. Then he said:

"Well, go; gather them together and lead them--to death," he added in a
low voice to Basiliskos. "There are at most fifteen hundred men. I do
not grudge him the pleasure of falling at the head of his countrymen.
Nor them the pleasure of falling behind him!--Farewell, Cethegus."

Silently greeting Narses with his uplifted spear, Cethegus left the
tent.

"H'm!" said Narses to Alboin, "you may well look after him,
Longobardian. There goes a remarkable piece of universal history. Do
you know who that is marching away?"

"A great enemy to his enemies," said Alboin gravely.

"Yes, wolf, look at him again; there goes to his death--the last
Roman!"

When all the leaders, except Basiliskos and Alboin, had left Narses,
there hurried into the tent from behind a curtain, Anicius, Scaevola,
and Albinus, still in the disguise of Longobardians, and with faces
full of alarm.

"What!" cried Scaevola, "will you save that man from his judges?"

"And his body from the executioner; and his fortune from his accusers?"
added Albinus.

Anicius was silent; he only clenched his hand upon the hilt of his
sword.

"General," said Alboin, "let these two brawlers put off the dress of my
people. I am disgusted with them."

"You are not wrong there, wolf!" said Narses; and turning to the others
he said, "you need no further disguise. You are useless to me as
accusers. Cethegus is judged; and the sentence will be carried out--by
King Teja. But you, you ravens, shall not hack at the hero after he is
dead."

"And the order of the Emperor?" asked Scaevola stubbornly.

"Even Justinian cannot blind and crucify a dead man. When Cethegus
Caesarius has fallen, I cannot wake him up again to please the Emperor's
cruelty. And of his money, you, Albinus, shall not receive a single
solidus, nor you, Scaevola, one drop of his blood. His gold is for the
Emperor, his blood for the Goths, and his name for immortality."

"Do you wish the death of a hero for that wretch?" now asked Anicius
angrily.

"Yes, son of Boethius; for he has deserved it! But you have a veritable
right to revenge yourself on him--you shall behead the fallen man, and
take