"Adalgoth!" cried the King.
"Adalgoth!" repeated all the guests.
The boy--he had heard the loud shout of his name--flew up the steps.
"My Gotho!" he exclaimed in a jubilant voice, and locked her in a tender embrace.
"Those two belong to each other," said Duke Guntharis, who had followed the youth.
"Like the dawn and the rising sun," added Teja.
"But now," said the girl, as she quietly withdrew from Adalgoth's arms, "let me fulfil my errand and the behest of my dying grandfather. Here, O King, take this roll and read it. In it is contained the fate of Adalgoth and Gotho; the past and the present, said our grandfather."
CHAPTER XII.
The King broke the seals and read:
"'This is written by Hildegisel, the son of Hildemuth, whom they call "the long;" once priest, now castellan at Teriolis. Written at the dictation of old Iffa; and it is all written down faithfully. Lo!--now it begins! The Latin is not always as good as that sung in the churches. But thou, O King, wilt understand it. For where it is bad Latin it is good Gothic. Lo!--now it really begins. Thus speaks the old man Iffa: My Lord and King Totila; the roll which is wrapped in this cover is the writing of the man Wargs, who, however, was neither my son, nor was his name Wargs--but his name was Alaric, and he was a Balthe, the banished Duke of----'"