This fear it was, perhaps, which had filled his short sleep with
dreams now terrible, now luxurious. This fear it was which caught
hold of him, at length distinct and intelligible, when, on turning
his head towards the city soon after sunrise, he became aware of a
group of horsemen following him at a distance of half a mile or so.
Thus had it been agreed with Pelagius. The men were to follow him,
without approaching, to a certain point of his journey, then would
close about him and his attendants, who would be inferior in number,
and carry them, with the Gothic maiden, back to Rome. At the sight
Marcian drew rein, and for a moment sat in his saddle with bent
head, suffering strangely. Sagaris came up to his side, regarded him
with anxious eye, and asked whether the heat of the sun's rays
incommoded him; whereupon he made a negative sign and rode on.
He tried to laugh. Had he forgotten the subtlety of his plot for
deceiving Pelagius? To have made known to the deacon where Veranilda
really was, would have been a grave fault in strategy. These armed
horsemen imagined that a two days' journey lay before them, whereas
the place of Veranildas imprisonment would be reached this evening.
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