nough that it has filled my
soul with wonder and joy.'

'May that joy also be mine!' said Veranilda, pressing her hands
together.

This afternoon, when Basil sat with her and Aurelia, she took her
cithern, and in a low voice sang songs she had heard her mother sing,
in the days before shame and sorrow fell upon Theodenantha. There were
old ballads of the Goths, oftener stern than tender, but to the
listeners, ignorant of her tongue, Veranilda's singing made them sweet
as lover's praise. One little song was Greek; it was all she knew of
that language, and the sole inheritance that had come to her from her
Greek-loving grandparent, the King Theodahad.

Auster was blowing; great lurid clouds rolled above the dark green
waters, and at evening rain began to fall. Through the next day, and
the day after that, the sky still lowered; there was thunder of waves
upon the shore; at times a mist swept down from the mountains, which
enveloped all in gloom. To Basil and Veranilda it mattered nothing.
Where they sat together there was sunshine, and before them gleamed an
eternity of cloudless azure.

CHAPTER VIII

THE SNARE

Meanwhile all was made ready for the sailing of the ship. Coffined in
lead, the body of Maximus awaited only a return of fine weather for its
conveyance to the vessel. When at length calm fell upon the sea, and
after a still night of gentle rain the day broke radiantly, all
Surrentum was in movement between church and harbour. Mass having been
said, the bishop himself led the procession down the hollow way and
through the chasm in the cliffs seaward, whilst psalms were chanted and
incense burnt. Carried in her litter, Petronilla followed the bier;
beside her walked Basil and Decius. Only by conscious effort could
these two subdue their visages to a becoming sadness; for Basil thought
of his marriage, Decius of Rome and his library. Nor did Petronilla
wear an aspect of very profound gloom; at moments she forgot herself,
and a singular animation appeared on her proud features; it was as
though some exultancy took hold of her mind.

That Aurelia held apart, that the daughter gave no testimony of
reverence for a father's remains, caused such murmuring in the crowd of
Surrentines: her heresy seemed to be made more notorious, more
abominable, by this neglect. At Surrentum, Arianism had never been
known; no Goth had ever dwelt here; and since Aurelia's arrival public
opinion had had time to gather force