From the ramparts came a flourish of the Gothic horn.
"How horribly the fellow blows!" cried Thorismuth angrily.
"It must be an Italian," said Totila.
"Give the watch-word," was called from the walls in Latin.
"Neapolis!" cried Totila. "Dost thou hear? Uliaris has been obliged to arm the citizens. Open the gate! I bring good news," he called to the men above. "Four hundred Goths follow at my heels, and Italy has a new king."
"Which is he!" asked some one inside, in a low voice.
"He on the white horse, the first one."
The gate was flung wide open; Gothic helmets filled the entrance; torches shone; voices whispered.
"Up with the portcullis!" cried Totila, riding up. Thorismuth looked anxiously before him, shading his eyes with his hand.
"They assembled yesterday at Regeta," Totila began again. "Theodahad is deposed, and Earl Witichis----"