"Prefect of Rome," said he, "blood has been shed--precious, noble, Gothic blood! It consecrates the furious strife which will soon be kindled. Blood, which thou shalt atone----"
His voice was suffocated with rage.
"Bah!" cried Hildebad--for he was the tall Goth--pushing him aside. "Make not such a to-do about it! My dear brother can easily part with a little superfluous blood; and the others lost more than he could spare. There, thou black devil!" he cried, turning to Cethegus, and holding a broad-sword close before his eyes, "knowest thou that?"
"Pomponius's sword!" cried Cethegus, turning pale and staggering back a step.
Amalaswintha and Cassiodorus asked in alarm,
"Pomponius?"
"Aha!" laughed Hildebad. "That is shocking, is it not? Nothing will come of the water-party!"
"Where is Pomponius--my Navarchus?" asked Amalaswintha vehemently.
"With the sharks, Queen, in deep water."
"Ha! death and destruction!" exclaimed Cethegus, now carried away by his anger. "How happened that?"