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Men we have one thing to do. The Amal must not go to the Valhalla without fair attendance. 'Not the poor girls? said Agilmund, who took for granted that Wulf would wish to celebrate the Amal's funeral in true Gothic fashion by a slaughter of slaves. 'No.... One of them I saw behave this very afternoon worthy of a Vala.
The One-eyed came down again and again from his rock, and rode round the Amal's camp, shouting to him words so true, that one must believe them to have been really spoken. 'Perjured boy, madman, betrayer of your race do you not see that the Roman plan is as always to destroy Goths by Goths? Whichever of us falls, they, not we, will be the stronger.
The storm was past; and Pelagia had been nestling to that beloved heart, cooing like a happy dove, for many a minute before the Amal aroused himself and her.... 'Now! quick! We have not a moment to lose. Up to the tower, where you will be safe; and then to show these curs what comes of snarling round the wild wolves' den! And was the Amal's news true, then?
We were round at every picquet last night, and the very notion of an Amal's heading them made them so eager, that we had to bribe them to be quiet rather than to rise. 'Odin! I wish I were among them now! 'Wait till the city rises. If the day pass over without a riot, I know nothing. The treasure is all on board, is it not? 'Yes, and the galleys ready.
'For Amalric Amal's Son Smid Troll's Son Made Me. Wherein whether they spoke truth or not, yet their sacrilege did not remain unpunished; for attempting to return homeward toward the sea by way of the Nile, they were set upon while weighed down with wine and sleep, by the country people, and to a man miserably destroyed.
'He may as well know, however, that we promise to send all her trumpery after her, even to the Amal's presents. As for the house, we won't trouble her to lend it us longer than we can help. We intend shortly to move into more extensive premises, and open business on a grander scale, as the shopkeepers say, eh, prince? 'Her money? That money? God forgive her! answered Philammon.
'What is this? thundered a voice; not Miriam's, but the Amal's. He was unarmed but he rushed straight upon Philammon. 'Do not harm him! shrieked Pelagia; 'he is my brother my brother of whom I told you! 'What does he here? cried the Amal, who instantly divined the truth. Pelagia was silent.
The mere rise of this unscrupulous swindler and his still more unscrupulous nephew, Justinian, would have been enough to rouse Dietrich's suspicion, if not fear. Deep and unspeakable must have been the royal Amal's contempt for the man.
On one side of the fountain, under the shade of a broad-leaved palmetto, lay the Amal's mighty limbs, stretched out on cushions, his yellow hair crowned with vine-leaves, his hand grasping a golden cup, which had been won from Indian Rajahs by Parthian Chosroos, from Chosroos by Roman generals, from Roman generals by the heroes of sheepskin and horsehide; while Pelagia, by the side of the sleepy Hercules-Dionysos, lay leaning over the brink of the fountain, lazily dipping her fingers into the water, and basking, like the gnats which hovered over its surface, in the mere pleasure of existence.
And a certain holy hermit, name not given, nor date of the vision, saw the ghosts of Boethius and Symmachus lead the Amal's soul up the cone of Stromboli, and hurl him in, as the English sailors saw old Boots, the Wapping usurer, hurled into the same place, for offences far more capable of proof. So runs the story of Dietrich's death. It is perfectly natural, and very likely true.
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