'
'You are assured of that?' Basil asked, under his breath.
'I have Totila's word for it, at all events. But you seem indisposed
for talk, lord Basil, and my business is with Marcian. The slaves
all look scared, and can't or won't answer a plain question. I have
no time to waste. Tell me, I pray you, where the lord of the villa
may be found.'
Basil summoned one of his followers.
'Conduct the lord Venantius to Marcian's chamber.'
It was done. Basil remained standing in the same spot, his eyes cast
down, till a quick step announced the captain's return. Venantius
came close up to him, and spoke in a grave but not unfriendly voice:
'The priest has told me what he saw, but will not say more. I ask
you nothing, lord Basil. You will make your defence to the king.'
'Be it so.'
'My men must rest for an hour,' continued Venantius. 'We shall ride
this afternoon as far as Aquinum, and there pass the night. I go now
to speak with Veranilda.'
'As you will.'
Basil withdrew into the portico, sat down, and covered his face with
his hands. Fever consumed him, and a dreadful melancholy weighed
upon his spirit.
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