Knowing that his
master wrote to Goths in the Gothic tongue, he was spared temptation
to break open the letter he carried; otherwise he would assuredly
have done so, for the hatred which Sagaris naturally felt for any
one in authority over him was now envenomed by jealousy, and for the
last month or two he had only waited an opportunity of injuring
Marcian and of advancing, by the same stroke, his own fortunes.
Having started from Rome in ignorance of his master's purpose, the
events of the night at Praeneste at once suggested to him the name
of the person who was being so cautiously and hurriedly conveyed
under Marcian's guard, and by the end of the journey he had no doubt
left. Here, at last, was the Gothic maiden who had been sought so
persistently by Marcian, by Basil, by Bessas, by Heliodora, and
doubtless by many others, since her disappearance from Surrentum.
Whither was she now being conducted? Sagaris did not know that among
her seekers was King Totila himself; on the other hand, he had much
reason for suspecting that Marcian pursued Veranilda with a lover's
passion, and when the journey ended at the island villa, when the
convoy of horsemen was dismissed, when he himself was sent off to a
distance, he saw his suspicion confirmed.
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