"Those are idle words," answered Tetrik with icy coolness. "Your proofs, where are they! I laugh at your impotent threats."
"The proofs!" cried Victoria. "They are embodied in your sacrilegious propositions. You conceived the project of being the hereditary emperor of Gaul long before Victorin's death; your proposition of having my grandson acclaimed the heir of his father's office was a lure meant at once to lead me off the scent of your designs and to furnish the first step of the ladder that you meant to climb."
"Victoria, anger is blinding you! What a bungler would I have been—if, indeed, the ambitious object that I pursued was a hereditary throne for myself—to advise you to vest the power in your own stock—"
"Aye! For one thing, the principle would have been accepted by the army. For another, once hereditary power was established for the future, you would have rid yourself of my son and grandson, in the manner that you did—by assassination. It is all now clear before me. That cursed Bohemian girl was your instrument; she was sent to Mayence in order to seduce my son, in order to drive him with her refusals to the infamous act that the creature demanded as the price of her favors. The crime once committed, my son would either be killed by Schanvoch, who was hastily called back to Mayence that very night, or he would be slain by the army, which received timely notice and was lashed to fury by your emissaries—"
"Proofs—proofs—Victoria! Proofs!"
"I have none, yet I state the facts! You managed to have my grandson killed the same night—torn from my arms. My stock is extinguished. Your first step towards empire was marked in blood. You thereupon declined power, and proposed the elevation of Marion. Oh! I admit it! Before that prodigy of infernal cunning, my suspicions, which were for a moment aroused, melted away. Two months after his acclamation as Chief of Gaul, Marion fell under the sword of an execrable assassin, your instrument again—"
"Proofs!" broke in Tetrik impassibly. "Furnish the proofs!"
"I have none, yet I state the facts. You remained the only available candidate for the office—Victorin, his son and Marion were killed. Thereupon, I unwittingly became your accomplice. I urged you to accept the government of the country. You triumphed, but only in part; you governed; but, you said it, you were but the first subject of the Mother of the Camps. Oh! I perceive it clearly! The hour has come when my power stands in your way. The army, Gaul, accepted Tetrik for their chief upon my request. It was not they who chose you. With one word I can break you, the same as I raised you to the place that you now are in. Blinded by ambition you judged my heart after your own; you thought me capable of wishing to exchange my influence over the army for the crown of an empress, and of enthroning my stock. You have entered into a dark compact with the Pope and bishops, looking to the eventual brutification and enslavement of this proud Gallic people which freely chooses its chiefs, and remains faithful to the religion of our fathers. Why, centuries ago this people broke the yoke of kingship through the sacred hands of Ritha-Gaur, and yet you now scheme to impose upon it a hated domination by allying your self with the new Church! Very well, I, Victoria, the Mother of the Camps, accuse you before the people in arms of intriguing for the subjugation of Gaul! I accuse you of having denied the faith of our fathers! I accuse you of entering into a secret alliance with the bishops! I accuse you of wishing to usurp the imperial crown and to render it hereditary in your family! I shall bring these charges against you before the people in arms, and shall pronounce you a traitor, a renegade, a murderer, a usurper! I shall demand on the spot that you be tried by the senate, and punished with death for your crimes!"
The vehemence of the accusations of my foster-sister notwithstanding, Tetrik maintained his habitual composure. For a moment he had dropped the mask and flown at me with threats. Now he was himself again. Raising his hands heavenward, he answered with the most unctuous voice that he could summon:
"Victoria, I considered the project that I submitted to you advantageous to Gaul—let us drop it. You accuse me; I am ready to answer for my acts before the senate and the army. Should my death, decreed at your instigation, be of any service to my country, I shall not refuse to you the few days of life that are still left to me. I shall await the decision of the senate. Adieu, Victoria. The future will tell which of us two, you or I, understood the country's interests better, and loved Gaul with the wiser love."