The King became as scarlet as his royal purple, partly from shame, partly from anger. Before he could find an answer, a rough voice at his side exclaimed:
"Be not troubled about that, your Majesty! I have been his master," continued the speaker, turning to the assembly: "I tell you that he can measure his strength against any foe; and whom old Hildebrand declares capable of bearing arms is considered so by all the Goths."
Loud applause from all the Goths present confirmed this assertion. Again Cethegus would have put in his word, but a movement behind the curtain drew his attention away. "It is one of my greatest enemies, but who?" he thought.
"There is yet an important matter to make known to you," again began the King with a hasty glance at the niche, which did not escape Cethegus.
"Perhaps an accusation against me," thought the latter; "they want to take me by surprise? They shall not succeed!"
But it surprised him, after all, when the King suddenly called in a loud voice:
"Prefect of Rome! Cethegus Cæsarius!"
Cethegus started; but, quickly recovering himself, bent his head and answered: "My Lord and King!"
"Have you nothing to announce from Rome? What is the feeling of the Quirites? What do people think of the Goths?"
"They are honoured as the people of Theodoric."