The bishop grabbed her arm. "Calm yourself, my daughter! Please! In the house of God—"
King Wittigis had been blinking at Padway, gradually soaking in the news. Mathaswentha's attack shocked him out of his lethargy. He growled: "You're trying to tell me that the miserable pen pusher, Thiudahad, has taken the town? My town?"
"That, my lord, is the general idea. I fear you'll have to give up your idea of becoming an Amaling and ruling the Goths. But we'll—"
Wittigis' face had been turning darker and darker red. Now he burst into a shocking roar. "You swine!" he yelled. "You think I'll hand over my crown and bride peaceably? By Jesus, I'll see you in the hottest hell first!" As he spoke he whipped out his sword and ran heavily at Padway, his gold-embroidered robe flapping.
Padway was not entirely taken by surprise. He got his own sword out and parried Wittigis' terrific downward cut easily enough, though the force of the blow almost disarmed him. Then he found himself chest to chest with the Goth, hugging the barrel torso and chewing Wittigis' pepper-and-salt beard. He tried to shout to his men, but it was like trying to talk with a mouth full of shredded wheat.
He spat out, it seemed, half a bale of the stuff. "Grab . . . gffth . . . pffth . . . grab him, boys! Don't hurt him!"
That was easier said than done. Wittigis struggled like a captive gorilla, even when five men were hanging onto him, and he bellowed and foamed all the while. The Gothic gentlemen were standing up, some with hands on their sword hilts, but in a hopeless minority, none seemed anxious to die for his king just then. Wittigis began to sob between roars.
"Tie him up until he cools off," said Padway unfeelingly. "My lord bishop, may I trouble you for pen and paper?"
The bishop looked bleakly at Padway, and called a sexton, who led Padway to a room off the vestibule. Here he sat down and wrote:
Martinus Paduei to Thomasus the Syrian. Greetings: My dear Thomasus: I am sending you with this letter the person of Wittigis, former King of the Goths and Italians. His escort has orders to deliver him to your house secretly, so forgive me for any alarm they cause you if they get you out of bed. As I remember, we have a telegraph tower under construction on the Flaminian Way near Helvillum. Please arrange to have a chamber constructed in the earth underneath this tower and fitted up as an apartment forthwith. Incarcerate Wittigis therein with an adequate guard. Have him made as comfortable as possible, as I judge him a man of moody temperament, and I do not wish him to harm himself. The utmost secrecy is to be observed at all times. That should not be too difficult, as this tower is in a wild stretch of country. It would be advisable to have Wittigis delivered to the tower by guards other than those who take him to Rome, and to have him guarded by men who speak neither Latin nor Gothic. They shall release their prisoner only on my order, delivered either in person or via the telegraph, or without orders in the event of my imprisonment or death. With best regards, martinus paduei