"Athalaric!" she stammered, "the King!"
A whole sea of thoughts and feelings rushed through her brain and heart, and, half fainting, she sank upon, the grassy bank beside the spring.
The young King, alarmed and delighted, stood for a few moments speechless before the tender figure lying at his feet. Thirstily his burning eye dwelt upon the beautiful features and noble form. A vivid flush shot like lightning over his pale face.
"Oh, she--she is my death!" he breathed, pressing both hands to his beating heart. "To die now--to die with her!"
Camilla moved her arm, which movement brought him to his senses; he kneeled down beside her, and wetted her temples with the cool water of the spring. She opened her eyes.
"Barbarian! murderer!" she cried shrilly, thrust his hand away, sprang up, and fled like a frightened doe.
Athalaric made no attempt to follow her.
"Barbarian! murderer!" he murmured to himself, in great grief, and buried his glowing forehead in his hands.
CHAPTER XII.
Camilla came home in such extreme excitement, that Daphnidion would not be convinced that she had not seen the nymphs, or even the venerable sylvan god, Picus, himself.