"In the name of the Triune God! We have again assembled in the gloom of night for the works of light. Perhaps for the last time; for the Son of God, to whom the heretics refuse all honour, has wonderfully blessed our endeavours. Next to God, our warmest thanks are due to the noble Emperor Justinian and his pious spouse, who listen to the sighs of the suffering Church with active sympathy; and, lastly, to our friend and leader here, the Prefect, who zealously works for the cause of our master the Emperor----"
"Stop, priest!" cried Lucius Licinius. "Who calls the Emperor of Byzantium our master? We will not have the Greeks instead of the Goths! We will be free!"
"We will be free!" echoed the chorus of his friends.
"We shall become free!" continued Silverius. "Certainly! But that is not possible unaided. The Emperor must help us. And do not think, beloved youths, that the man whom you honour as your leader, Cethegus, is of a different opinion. Justinian has sent him a costly ring--his portrait in carneol--as a sign that he is contented with the Prefect's services, and the Prefect has accepted the ring. Behold, he wears it on his finger."
Startled and indignant, the youths looked at Cethegus, who silently advanced into the middle of the room.
A painful pause ensued.
"Speak, General!" cried Lucius; "contradict him! It is not as he says with the ring!"
But Cethegus nodded and drew off the ring.
"It is as he says. The ring is from the Emperor, and I have accepted it."
Lucius Licinius fell back a step.