The slave went, and Cethegus laid his right hand upon the dagger in the bosom of his tunic.
A stately Goth entered, the cowl of his brown mantle drawn over his head. He now threw it back.
Cethegus started forward in astonishment.
"What leads the King of the Goths to me?"
"Softly!" said Witichis. "No one need know what we two transact. You know that yesterday and to-day my army has entered Rome from Regeta. You do not know that we leave Rome to-morrow!"
Cethegus looked amazed.
"It surprises you?"
"The city is secure," said Cethegus quietly.
"Yes; but not the fidelity of the Romans. Benevento has already gone over to Belisarius. I have no wish to allow myself to be crushed between Belisarius and you."
Cethegus was prudently silent; he did not know to what this would lead. At last he asked: