"I beseech you," cried the old man, falling on his knees, "daughter of Theodoric, say 'yes,' if you can!"
"Rise!" she cried, turning away with a frown. "You have no right to question me thus."
"No," said the old man quietly, and rising from his knees. "No, not now. From this moment I no longer belong to this world."
"Cassiodorus!" cried the Queen, alarmed.
"Here are the keys of my rooms in the palace. There you will find all the gifts that I have received from you and Theodoric; the documents which assert my dignities, and my seals of office. I go!"
"Whither, my old friend, oh, whither?"
"To the cloister which I founded at Squillacium, in Apulia. Henceforward, far from kings and their deeds, I shall only do God's work upon earth. My soul has long since panted for peace, and now I have nothing left on earth that is dear to me. Accept once more my advice at parting: put away the sceptre from your blood-stained hands. You can bless this realm no longer, you can only bring a curse upon the nation. Think of the salvation of your soul, and may God be gracious to you!" And before the Queen could recover from her consternation, he had disappeared.
She would have hurried after him to call him back but she was met at the door by Petros, the ambassador.
"Stay, Queen," he said in a low and rapid voice, "stay and hear me. I have no time to lose. I am followed."
"Who follows you?"