"The lovely Queen of the Goths, by Eros and Anteros!" said the spy to himself. "No disagreeable meeting, be it for love or politics! Hark! she speaks. What a pity that I came too late to hear the beginning of the conversation!"
"Therefore, mark well," he heard the Queen say, "the day after to-morrow some great danger is planned to take place on the road before the Tiburtinian Gate."
"Good; but what!" asked the voice of the Prefect.
"I could learn nothing more exactly. And I can communicate nothing more to you, even if I should hear anything. I dare not meet you here again, for----"
She now spoke in a lower tone.
Perseus pressed his ear hard against the chink; his sword rattled against the stone, and immediately a ray of the lantern fell upon him.
"Hark!" cried a third voice--it was a female voice, that of the bearer of the lantern, who now showed herself in its rays as she quickly turned in the direction of the wall where stood the spy.
Perseus recognised a slave in Moorish costume.
For one moment all in the temple were silent.
Perseus held his breath. He felt that his life was at stake. For Cethegus grasped his sword.