"Be not anxious. Queen. Rome is not less dear to me than to you. And if the next assault fail--they must renounce the siege, be they never so tough. And this Queen, is your doing. Let me this night--perhaps the last on which we meet--reveal to you my wonder and admiration. Cethegus does not easily admire, and where he must, he does not easily confess it. But--I admire you, Queen! With what death-despising temerity, with what demoniac cunning you have frustrated all the plots of the barbarians! Truly, Belisarius has done much--Cethegus more--but Mataswintha most."
"Would that you spoke truth!" said Mataswintha with sparkling eyes. "And if the crown falls from the head of this culprit----"
"It is your hand which has decided the fate of Rome. But, Queen, you cannot be satisfied with this alone. I have learned to know you these last few months--you must not be taken, a conquered Gothic Queen, to Byzantium. Such beauty, such a mind, such force of will must rule, and not serve, in Byzantium. Therefore reflect--when your tyrant is overthrown--will you not then follow the course which I have pointed out to you?"
"I have never yet thought of what will follow," she answered gloomily.
"But I have thought for you. Truly, Mataswintha"--and his eyes rested upon her with fervent admiration--"you are marvellously beautiful. I consider it as my greatest merit that even your beauty is not able to kindle my passions and seduce me from my plans. But you are too beautiful, too charming, to live alone for hatred and revenge. When our aim is reached, then to Byzantium! You will then be more than Empress--you will be the vanquisher of the Empress!"
"When my aim is reached, my life is completed. Do you think I could bear the thought of having destroyed my people for mere ambition, for prudent ends? No--I did it only because I could no other. Revenge is now all to me, and----"
Just then there sounded loud and shrill from the front of the building, but yet within the walls, the cry of the screech-owl; once--twice--in rapid succession.
How amazed was Perseus to see the Prefect hurriedly press his finger upon the throat of the statue against which he was leaning, and to see it immediately and noiselessly divide into two parts.
Cethegus slipped, into the opening, which slowly closed again.
Mataswintha and Aspa sank upon the steps of the altar, as if in prayer.