In spite of all this, it was said by the Romans that the Goths would
long since have climbed the walls, had it not been for the Prefect's
"Egeria."
For, strange to say, each time the barbarians prepared an assault,
Cethegus went to Belisarius and warned him of the day and hour.
Whenever Teja or Hildebad attempted to carry a gate by storm or sweep
away a redoubt--Cethegus foretold their coming, and the assaulters met
with double the usual number of defenders at that particular point.
Whenever the chains across the Tiber were to be broken in a night
surprise--Cethegus seemed to have guessed it, and sent fire-brands and
fire-ships against the boats of the enemy.
So passed many months.
The Goths could not hide from themselves the fact that, in spite of
continual assaults, they had made no progress since the commencement of
the siege.
For a long time they bore with patience the betrayal and frustration of
their plans.
But by degrees discontent not only began to spread in the army,
especially as now the scarcity of provisions made itself felt, but also
the King's mind was darkened with deep melancholy when he found all his
strength, perseverance, and military science rendered vain. And when he
returned to his royal tent from some thwarted undertaking, some
abortive assault, the haughty eyes of his Queen rested on him with a
mysterious and terrible expression, from which he turned away with a
shudder.
"All has happened as I foretold," Witichis said gloomily to Teja; "with
Rauthgundis my good-fortune has forsaken me, as joy has forsaken my
heart. It is if a curse rested upon my crown. And this daughter of the
Amelungs, silent and gloomy, follows me like misfortune personified."
"Thou mayst be right," answered Teja; "perhaps I can break the spell.
Grant me leave of absence to-night."
On the same day, almost at the same hour, Johannes, in Rome, asked
Belisarius for leave of absence for that night. Belisarius refused to
grant it.
"It is no time for midnight pleasures," said he.
"It will be small pleasure to spy amongst damp old walls and Gothic
lances for a fox who is ten times slyer than either of us."
"What do you think of doing?" asked Belisarius, becoming attentive.
"What do I intend to do? To make an end of the cursed position in which
we are all placed, and you, O General, not the least. All goes well.
For months the barbarians have been encamped before these walls, and
have accomplished nothing. We shoot them as easily as boys shoot crows
from behind a hedge, and can laugh at them and all their efforts. But
who has accomplished all this? Not, as would be right, you, the
Emperor's commander-in-chief, not the Emperor's army, but this icy
Roman, who can only laugh when he scoffs. He sits up there in the
Capitol and mocks at the Emperor, the Goths and us, and most of all,
give me leave to say, at you. How does this Ulysses and Ajax in one
person know so exactly all the plans of the Goths? By means of his
demons, say some. Through his Egeria, say others. And some maintain
that he has a raven which can speak and understand like a human being,
and that he sends it every night into the Gothic camp. Old women and
Romans may believe such things, but not the son of my mother! I think I
know both the raven and the demons. It is certain that the Prefect can
only learn what he knows in the Gothic camp; let us see if we cannot
use that source as well as he."
"I thought of this long since, but I saw no possibility of carrying out
my idea."
"My Huns have watched all the Prefect's movements. It is cursedly
difficult, for his brown Moor follows him like his shadow. But
sometimes Syphax is absent for days together, and then it is easier: so
I have found out that Cethegus often leaves the city at night,
sometimes by the Gate of Portuensis, sometimes by the Gate of St. Paul.
He commands the guard of both these gates. Farther my spies dared not
follow him. But to-night--for to-night the time has come again--I have
a mind to stick to his heels. But I must wait for him _outside_ the
gate, for his Isaurians would never let me pass. I shall make a round
of the walls, and remain behind in one of the trenches."
"'Tis well. But, as you say, there are two gates to be watched."
"Yes; and so I have engaged Perseus, my brother, to be my fellow-spy.
He will watch the Gate of St. Paul, I the Portuensian Gate. You may
depend upon it, that before sunrise to-morrow one or other of us will
know who is the Prefect's Egeria."
Exactly opposite the Gate of St. Paul, at about three arrow-shots,
distance from the outermost trench of the city, lay a large and ancient
building, the Basilica Sancti Pauli extra muros, or St. Paul's outside
the walls, which only completely disappeared at the time of the siege
of Rome by the Connetable of Bourbon.
Originally a temple dedicated to Jupiter Stator, it had been
consecrated to the Apostle two centuries before the time of which we
speak, but the bronze colossal statue of the bearded god still stood
erect; only the flaming thunderbolts had been taken from its right
hand, and a crucifix put in their place; otherwise the sturdy and
bearded figure was well suited to its new name.
It was the sixth hour of the night.
The moon shone brightly above the Eternal City, and shed her silver
light upon the battlements and the plain between the Roman ramparts and
the Basilica, the black shadow of which fell towards the Gothic camp.
The guard at the Gate of St. Paul had just been relieved. But seven men
had gone out, and only six re-entered.
The seventh turned his back to the gate and walked out into the open
field.
Cautiously he chose his path: cautiously he avoided the numerous
steel-traps, covered pits and self-shooting poisoned arrows which were
strewn everywhere about, and which had already brought destruction to
many a Goth while assaulting the city.
This man appeared to know them all, and easily avoided them. He also
carefully shunned the moonlight, seeking the shade of the jutting
bastions, and springing from one tree to another.
After crossing the outermost trench, he remained standing in the shadow
of a cypress, the boughs of which, had been shattered by a catapult,
and looked about him.
He could see nothing far and near, and at once hurried with rapid steps
towards the church.
Had he looked round once more, he surely would not have done so.
For, as soon as he left the tree, a second figure rose from the trench,
and reached the shade of the cypress in three leaps.
"I have won, Johannes! This time fortune favours the younger brother!"
said this personage.
And he cautiously followed the man, who was rapidly walking on.
But suddenly he lost sight of him; it seemed as if the earth had
swallowed him up.
And when he had reached the outer wall of the church, where the man had
disappeared, the Armenian (for it was Perseus) could discover neither
door nor any other opening.
"No doubt about it," he said to himself, "the appointment has been made
within the temple. I must follow."
But at that place the wall could not be climbed.
The spy turned a corner, feeling the stones.
In vain. The wall was of the same height everywhere.
He lost about a quarter of an hour in this search.
At last he found a gap; with difficulty he squeezed himself through.
And now he found himself in the outer court of the old temple, across
which the thick Doric columns threw broad shadows, under cover of which
he succeeded in reaching the centre and principal building.
He peeped through a chink in the wall, which a current of air had
betrayed to him. Within all was dark.
But suddenly he was blinded by a dazzling light.
When he again opened his eyes, he saw a bright stripe amid the
darkness; it issued from a dark lantern, the light of which had been
suddenly uncovered.
He could distinctly see whatever stood in the line of light; but not
the bearer of the lantern.
He saw Cethegus the Prefect, who stood close to the statue of the
Apostle, and appeared to be leaning against it. In front of him stood a
second form, that of a slender woman, upon whose auburn hair fell the
glittering light of the lantern.
"The lovely Queen of the Goths, by Eros and Anteros!" said the spy to
himself. "No disagreeable meeting, be it for love or politics! Hark!
she speaks. What a pity that I came too late to hear the beginning of
the conversation!"
"Therefore, mark well," he heard the Queen say, "the day after
to-morrow some great danger is planned to take place on the road before
the Tiburtinian Gate."
"Good; but what!" asked the voice of the Prefect.
"I could learn nothing more exactly. And I can communicate nothing more
to you, even if I should hear anything. I dare not meet you here again,
for----"
She now spoke in a lower tone.
Perseus pressed his ear hard against the chink; his sword rattled
against the stone, and immediately a ray of the lantern fell upon him.
"Hark!" cried a third voice--it was a female voice, that of the bearer
of the lantern, who now showed herself in its rays as she quickly
turned in the direction of the wall where stood the spy.
Perseus recognised a slave in Moorish costume.
For one moment all in the temple were silent.
Perseus held his breath. He felt that his life was at stake. For
Cethegus grasped his sword.
"All is quiet," said the slave; "it must have been a stone falling on
the iron-work outside."
"I can also go no more into the grave outside the Portuensian Gate. I
fear that we have been followed."
"By whom?"
"By one who, as it seems, never sleeps--Earl Teja."
The Prefect's lips twitched.
"And he is also one of a secret company who have sworn an oath against
the life of Belisarius; the attack on the Gate of St. Paul will be only
a feint."
"'Tis well," said Cethegus reflectively.
"Belisarius could never escape, if he were not warned," continued the
Queen. "They lie somewhere, I fear--but I do not know where--in ambush.
They have a superior force, Earl Totila commands them."
"I will take care to warn him!" said Cethegus slowly.
"If the plan should succeed!"
"Be not anxious. Queen. Rome is not less dear to me than to you. And if
the next assault fail--they must renounce the siege, be they never so
tough. And this Queen, is your doing. Let me this night--perhaps the
last on which we meet--reveal to you my wonder and admiration. Cethegus
does not easily admire, and where he must, he does not easily confess
it. But--I admire you, Queen! With what death-despising temerity, with
what demoniac cunning you have frustrated all the plots of the
barbarians! Truly, Belisarius has done much--Cethegus more--but
Mataswintha most."
"Would that you spoke truth!" said Mataswintha with sparkling eyes.
"And if the crown falls from the head of this culprit----"
"It is _your_ hand which has decided the fate of Rome. But, Queen, you
cannot be satisfied with this alone. I have learned to know you these
last few months--you must not be taken, a conquered Gothic Queen, to
Byzantium. Such beauty, such a mind, such force of will must rule, and
not serve, in Byzantium. Therefore reflect--when your tyrant is
overthrown--will you not then follow the course which I have pointed
out to you?"
"I have never yet thought of what will follow," she answered gloomily.
"But I have thought for you. Truly, Mataswintha"--and his eyes rested
upon her with fervent admiration--"you are marvellously beautiful. I
consider it as my greatest merit that even your beauty is not able to
kindle my passions and seduce me from my plans. But you are too
beautiful, too charming, to live alone for hatred and revenge. When
our aim is reached, then to Byzantium! You will then be more than
Empress--you will be the vanquisher of the Empress!"
"When my aim is reached, my life is completed. Do you think I could
bear the thought of having destroyed my people for mere ambition, for
prudent ends? No--I did it only because I could no other. Revenge is
now all to me, and----"
Just then there sounded loud and shrill from the front of the building,
but yet within the walls, the cry of the screech-owl; once--twice--in
rapid succession.
How amazed was Perseus to see the Prefect hurriedly press his finger
upon the throat of the statue against which he was leaning, and to see
it immediately and noiselessly divide into two parts.
Cethegus slipped, into the opening, which slowly closed again.
Mataswintha and Aspa sank upon the steps of the altar, as if in prayer.
"So it was a signal! Danger is near," thought the spy. "But where is
the danger? and where the warner?"
And he turned and stepped from beneath the wall, looking to the left,
on which side the Gothic camp was situated.
But in doing so he stepped into the moonlight, and in sight of Syphax,
the Moor, who stood in an empty niche before the entrance of the
building, and who, until now, had also been looking sharply in the
direction of the camp.
From thence a man walked slowly forward.
His battle-axe glittered in the moonlight.
But Perseus saw a second weapon flash; it was the sword of the Moor, as
he softly drew it from its sheath.
"Ha!" laughed Perseus; "before those two have done with each other, I
shall be in Rome with my secret."
And he ran towards the gap in the wall of the court by which he had
entered.
For a moment Syphax looked doubtfully to right and left. To the right
he saw a man escaping, whom he had only now discovered; to the left a
Gothic warrior, who was just entering the court of the temple. It was
impossible to reach and kill both.
He suddenly called aloud:
"Teja, Earl Teja! Help, help! A Roman! Save the Queen! There, near the
wall on the right--a Roman!"
In a moment Teja stood at Syphax's side.
"There!" cried Syphax. "I will protect the women in the church!" and he
rushed into the temple.
"Stand, Roman!" cried Teja, and rushed after Perseus.
But Perseus would not stand. He ran along the wall; he reached the
gap, but in his hurry he could not force himself through. With the
strength of despair he swung himself up upon the wall, and was already
drawing up his feet to jump down on the other side, when Teja cast his
battle-axe, and struck him on the head.
Perseus, together with his secret, fell back dead.
Teja bent over him; he could distinctly see the features of the dead
man.
"The Archon Perseus," he said, "the brother of Johannes."
He left the corpse, and at once ascended the steps which led into the
church.
On the threshold he was met by Mataswintha. Behind her came Syphax, and
Aspa with the lantern.
For a moment Teja and Mataswintha measured each other with distrustful
looks.
"I must thank thee, Earl Teja of Tarentum," at last the Princess said.
"I was in danger while pursuing my lonely devotions."
"A strange place and time for thee to choose for thy prayers. Let us
see if this Roman was the only enemy."
He took the light from Aspa's hand, and went into the chapel.
Presently he returned, a leathern shoe, inlaid with gold, in his hand.
"I found nothing--but this sandal by the altar, close to the statue of
the Apostle. It is a man's shoe."
"A votive offering of mine," said Syphax quickly. "The Apostle healed
my foot, which a thorn had wounded."
"I thought the Snake-god was thine only god?"
"I worship whatever can help me."
"In which foot did the thorn wound thee?"
For a moment Syphax hesitated.
"In the right foot," he then answered.
"It is a pity," said Teja, "the sandal is for the left foot." And he
put it into his belt. "I warn thee, Queen, against such midnight
devotions."
"I shall do my duty," answered Mataswintha harshly.
"And I mine!"
With these words Teja turned, and led the way to the camp. Silently the
Queen and her slaves followed.
At sunrise Teja stood before the King and told him everything.
"What thou sayest is no proof," said Witichis.
"But a strong cause of suspicion. And thou thyself hast told me that
the conduct of the Queen was mysterious."
"Just for that reason I must guard myself against acting on mere
suspicion. I often fear that we have acted wrongly by her, almost as
much so as by Rauthgundis."
"Possibly. But these midnight walks?"
"I shall put an end to them, were it only for her own sake."
"And the Moor? I mistrust him. I know that he is often absent for days
together; afterwards appearing again in the camp. He is a spy."
"Yes, friend," said Witichis, with a smile; "but he is my spy. He goes
in and out of Rome with my knowledge. It is he who betrays all their
plans to me."
"And yet it has done no good? And the false sandal?"
"It is really a votive offering. Before thou camest, Syphax confessed
all to me. Once, as he was waiting for the Queen, he got weary, and
began to rummage in a vault of the church; and there he found, amongst
all sorts of things, some priestly garments and hidden treasures, which
he stole. Later, fearing the wrath of the saint, he wished to atone,
and offered up in his heathen manner this golden sandal from his booty.
He described it to me exactly. With golden side-stripes, and an agate
button engraved with the letter C. Thou seest that it is so. Therefore
he knew it well, and it cannot have been dropped by a fugitive. He has
promised to bring the fellow-shoe as a proof. But, more than all, he
has discovered to me a new plan, which will put an end to all our
trouble, and deliver Belisarius himself into our hands."