"As imperial ambassador!" cried Petros, rejoiced.
"Through my influence. But that is not all. You will receive circumstantial directions from Justinian to undermine the kingdom of the Goths, and smooth the path of Belisarius in Italy."
"Shall I obey these directions, or not?"
"Obey them. But you will receive another order, which Justinian will particularly recommend to your notice; that is, to save the daughter of Theodoric from the hands of her enemies at any price, and bring her to Byzantium. Here is a letter from me to her, which presses her to take refuge in my arms."
"'Tis well," said Petros, taking the letter. "I will bring her here immediately."
Theodora, like an angry snake, started up on her couch with such impetuosity, that Petros and Galatea retreated in affright.
"No, no, Petros! no!" she exclaimed. "For this reason I send you. She must not come to Byzantium! She must not live!"
Confounded, Petros let the letter fall.
"Oh, Empress!" he whispered; "murder?"
"Peace!" cried Theodora, in a hoarse voice; and her eyes sparkled cruelly. "She must die!"