“I have heard as much, Augusta,” I said.

“You have heard, like all the world.  But what else of ill have you heard of me, Olaf?  Speak out, man; I’m here to learn the truth.”

“I have heard that you are very ambitious, Augusta, and that you hate your son as much as he hates you, because he is a rival to your power.  It is rumoured that you would be glad if he were dead and you left to reign alone.”

“Then a lie is rumoured, Olaf.  Yet it is true that I am ambitious, who see far and would build this tottering empire up afresh.  Olaf, it is a bitter thing to have begotten a fool.”

“Then why do you not marry again and beget others, who might be no fools, Augusta?” I asked bluntly.

“Ah! why?” she answered, flashing a curious glance upon me.  “In truth, I do not quite know why; but from no lack of suitors, since, were she but a hideous hag, an empress would find these.  Olaf, you may have learned that I was not born in the purple.  I was but a Greek girl of good race, not even noble, to whom God gave a gift of beauty; and when I was young I saw a man who took my fancy, also of old race, yet but a merchant of fruits which they grow in Greece and sell here and at Rome.  I wished to marry him, but my mother, a far-seeing woman, said that such beauty as mine—­though less than that of your Iduna the Fair, Olaf—­was worth money or rank.  So they sent away my merchant of fruits, who married the daughter of another merchant of fruits and throve very well in business.  He came to see me some years ago, fat as a tub, his face scored all over with the marks of the spotted sickness, and we talked about old times.  I gave him a concession to import dried fruits into Byzantium—­that is what he came to see me for—­and now he’s dead.  Well, my mother was right, for afterwards this poor beauty of mine took the fancy of the late Emperor, and, being very pious, he married me.  So the Greek girl, by the will of God, became Augusta and the first woman in the world.”

“By the will of God?” I repeated.

“Aye, I suppose so, or else all is raw chance.  At least, I, who to-day might have been bargaining over dried fruits, as I should have done had I won my will, am—­what you know.  Look at this robe,” and she spread her glittering dress before me.  “Hark to the tramp of those guards before my door.  Why, you are their captain.  Go into the antechambers, and see the ambassadors waiting there in the hope of a word with the Ruler of the Earth!  Look at my legions mustered on the drilling-grounds, and understand how great the Grecian girl has grown by virtue of the face which is less beauteous than that of—­Iduna the Fair!”

“I understand all this, Augusta,” I answered.  “Yet it would seem that you are not happy.  Did you not tell me just now that you could not find a friend and that you had begotten a fool?”

“Happy, Olaf?  Why, I am wretched, so wretched that often I think the hell of which the priests preach is here on earth, and that I dwell in its hottest fires.  Unless love hides it, what happiness is there in this life of ours, which must end in blackest death?”