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And Brother Marcian, who was a man of great sternness both of life and doctrine, cried: "Hear him! he talks like a hypocrite; that honeyed voice of his issues from a whited sepulchre." And Fra Giovanni said again: "Brother Marcian, I am indeed capable of every infamy but for God's good help."
They are even now conversing. Basil fell into a great agitation. Absorbed in his private griefs, and in thoughts of eternity, he had all but forgotten the purpose with which he crossed the Apennines at the summons of Marcian. The name of Totila revived his interest in the progress of the war, but at the same time struck his heart with a chill misgiving.
She came forth, carefully closed the wicket behind her, and began to pace in the gallery as though she were alone. Presently she stood to gaze over the city spread before her, and her eyes rested upon the one vast building so it seemed which covered the Palatine Hill. 'Marcian! He drew near.
Riding once more beside the carriage, Marcian felt his heart light: passions and fears were all forgotten; the sun flaming amid the pale blue sky, the violet shadows of the mountains, the voice of cicadas made rapture to his senses. It was as though Veranilda's beauty, not even yet beheld, rayed something of itself upon all the visible world.
I saw him come forth from Marcian's house, when I was there on the king's service; but, of course, I could not speak with him. Veranilda had seated herself within the portico. Basil stood before her, ever and again meeting her eyes as she looked up. 'Just as little, he resumed after a pause of troubled thought, 'can I know whether Marcian believed me a traitor, or himself had a traitorous mind.
'Before I left Rome, I told you that I would gladly see her no more, and you smiled dubiously. Believe me now. I abhor the thought of her. If she ask you for my reply, repeat those words. 'Nay, dear my lord, in that I will beg to be excused, replied Marcian with his melancholy smile. They were walking silently, side by side, when the servant Felix again presented himself before them.
And Agrippa restored from his own purse the so-called Marcian water-supply, which had been cut off by the destruction of the pipes, and carried it in pipes to many parts of the city.
With but a few minutes' delay Veranilda descended to the room which lay behind the atrium. Marcian, loitering among the ivied plane-trees without, was told of her coming, and at once entered. She was alone, standing at the back of the room; her hands hanging linked before her, the lower part of the arms white against the folds of a russet-coloured tunic. And Marcian beheld her face.
When at last Marcian was admitted to the deacon's presence, he found himself disconcerted by the long, silent scrutiny of eyes deep read in the souls of men. No word would reach his lips. 'I have been expecting you, said the deacon at length, gravely, but without severity. 'You have made no haste to come.
This was now repeated by Marcian, who professed himself overwhelmed by the event. 'You have here one Basilius, said Chorsoman. 'The same whom your greatness saw on a certain occasion at Cumae. 'They tell me he was about to wed with Veranilda. What does that mean?
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