CHAPTER XIX.
Meanwhile, Mataswintha had entered her husband's presence unannounced.
Witichis had left untouched all the rooms which had been occupied by the Amelungs--Theodoric, Athalaric, and Amalaswintha--and had appropriated to his own use the apartments which he had formerly been accustomed to inhabit when on duty at court.
He had never assumed the gold and purple trappings of the Amelungs, and had banished from his chamber all the pomp of royalty.
A low camp-bed, upon which lay his helmet, sword, and various documents, a long wooden table, and a few wooden chairs and utensils, formed the simple furniture of the room.
When Procopius had taken leave, the King had thrown himself into a chair, and, supporting his weary head on his hands, leaned his elbows upon the table. Thus he had not noticed Mataswintha's light step.
She remained standing near the door, reluctant to advance. She had never before sought an interview with her husband. Her heart beat fast, and she could not muster courage to address him.
At last Witichis rose with a sigh, and, turning, saw the motionless figure at the door.
"Thou here, Queen!" he asked with surprise, as he approached her. "What can have led thee to me?"
"Duty--compassion--" Mataswintha answered quickly; "otherwise I had not---- I have a favour to ask of thee."