'Yet I must needs
think it was so.'
'Why?' sounded from the king's lips abruptly, and with a change to
unexpected sternness. 'What forbids you the more natural thought
that this man, this Marcian, was himself your slanderer?'
'Thinking so, O king, I slew him. Thinking so, I defiled my tongue
with base suspicion of Veranilda. Being now again in my right mind,
I know that my accusation of _her_ was frenzy, and therefore I
choose rather to believe that I wronged Marcian than that he could
conceive so base a treachery.'
Totila reflected. All but a smile as of satisfaction lurked within
his eyes.
'Know you,' he next inquired, 'by what means Marcian obtained charge
of the lady Veranilda?'
'Of that I am as ignorant as of how she was first carried into
captivity.'
'Yet,' said the king sharply, 'you conversed with her after
Marcian's death.'
'Gracious lord,' answered Basil in low tones, 'it were miscalled
conversing. With blood upon my hands, I said I scarce knew what, and
would not give ear to the words which should have filled me with
remorse.'
There was again a brief silence.
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