"Witichis!" cried Mataswintha with beaming eyes and a beating heart.
"Yes; the rebels at Regeta, forgetting the rights of the nobility, have chosen him King of the Goths."
"He! he my King!" said Mataswintha, as if in a dream.
"I should have told thee when I greeted thee as Queen, but in thy chamber stood his bust, crowned with laurel. That seemed to me suspicious. I saw it later more closely; it was an accidental resemblance; it was a head of Ares."
Mataswintha was silent, and tried to hide the blushes which rose into her cheeks.
"Well," cried Arahad, "what is to be done now?"
"We must away. We must reach Ravenna before him, Florentia will hinder him for a time. Meanwhile we shall take Ravenna, and when thou hast consummated thy marriage with Mataswintha in the palace of Theodoric, all the people of the Goths will turn to us. Up, Queen! I will order thy carriage to be prepared; in an hour thou wilt go to Ravenna, guarded by my troops."
And the brothers hurried away.
Mataswintha looked after them with flashing eyes.
"Yes! lead me away, bound and a prisoner. Like an eagle from the height my King will swoop upon you, and save me from your cruel clutches. Come, Aspa, the liberator approaches!"