"He goes with her!" screamed Mataswintha, and cast herself before the pair. "Witichis--farewell--but tell me once more--that thou hast forgiven me!"
"Forgiven thee!" cried Rauthgundis. "Never--never! She has destroyed our kingdom--she has betrayed thee! It was no lightning--it was her hand which kindled the granaries!"
"Ha--then be thou accursed!" cried Witichis. "Away, away from this serpent!" and, thrusting Mataswintha violently away, he crossed the threshold, followed by Rauthgundis.
"Witichis," screamed Mataswintha, dragging herself up--"stay--stay! Hear one word--Witichis!"
"Be silent," said Dromon, grasping her arm. "You will alarm the guard!"
But Mataswintha, now no more mistress of herself, ran up the steps into the passage. "Stay, Witichis--stay!" she screamed. "Thou canst not leave me thus!" and fell fainting to the earth.
Dromon hurried past her, and followed the fugitives.
But the shrill cries of Mataswintha had already reached the ear of one who ever slept lightly. Cethegus, his sword in his hand, and only half dressed, came out of his chamber into the gallery which looked over the square court of the palace.
"Guards!" he cried. "To arms!"
The soldiers were already astir.