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I, O Marcian, would fain think it a dream yet there are evil doings in this world which make me fear that it may be true. 'You have seen Bessas again? 'Yes. And I have seen Petronilla. His eyes on the listener, Basil recounted his conversation of this morning, all save that part of it which related to Marcian.
Marcian stood watching her for a moment, then turned to look at the wide prospect. A minute or two passed; he heard Heliodora's step approaching. 'What keeps you here? she asked coldly. 'Lady, I am thinking. 'Of what? 'Of the day soon to come when Totila will be king in Rome. Heliodora's countenance relaxed in a smile.
Can I trust you, Marcian? he added, grasping his friend's hand. 'As yourself nay, better. 'Then, to Asculum. The greater part of southern Italy was once more held by the Goths.
The face which was so troubling his imagination he did not yet see, for Veranilda kept the hood close about her as she passed by candle light up steps to the comfortless and dirty little chamber which was the best she could have. 'Rest in peace, whispered Marcian as the door closed. 'I guard you.
What whisper the Argus-eyed bondswomen? 'They tell me, replied the priest, 'that she went forth and met Marcian, and walked with him in a wood, her own woman having been sent back to the villa. This troubled me; but her voice, her countenance 'Helped by the devil, broke in Basil. 'Reverend man, do not seek to deceive yourself, or to solace me with a vain hope.
'He is still in Tuscany, and rumours come from his army that he will pass into Samnium. All the strongholds of Umbria are his; all the conquests of Belisarius from Ariminum to Spoletium. 'Where are the Roman captains? 'Each in his city of the far north, holding the plunder he has got, and looking for the chance of more. In Rome Marcian paused significantly, and the Senator took up his words.
He kept repeating to himself that it was for the last time; and perhaps a nobler motive would have withheld him altogether, had not the story told by Marcian of his 'rival's' insolent menace rankled in him and urged him to show that he felt no fear. Chance led him past the little church of St.
I can't say so much for that of a man I have just been talking with a messenger of your friend Marcian. The listener started as though he would leap out of bed. A rush of colour to his cheeks banished the heavy, wan aspect which had partly disguised him, and restored the comely visage of Basil. A messenger from Marcian? he exclaimed. With news for him?
He said that Basil had forgotten me; that Basil loved, and would soon wed, a lady in Rome. More than that, he said that Basil was plotting to get me into his power, his purpose being to deliver me to the Greeks, who would take me to Constantinople. But Marcian, so he declared, had rescued me in time, and I was to be guarded by the King of the Goths.
Here, where the citizens once thronged about their business and their pleasure, only a few idlers were in view, a few peasants with carts, and a drove of bullocks just come in from the country. 'You would have me forget her? he said at length, in a voice distressfully subdued. 'I spoke only as I thought. 'And your thought condemned me despised me, Marcian? 'Not so.
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