‘Fair greeting to your Magnificence!’ he began with courtesy.  ’Be welcome to this villa, where, in absence of its mistress, I take upon myself to offer you hospitality.’

Chorsoman had dismounted, and stood with half a dozen of his followers behind him in the portico.  At sight of Marcian his face became suspicious.

‘By mistress,’ he replied gruffly, stepping forward, ’I suppose you mean the daughter of Maximus.  Where is she?’

Marcian would have continued the conversation within, but the Hun chose to remain standing in the for-court, the gate wide open.  From the Surrentines he had already heard the story of Aurelia’s disappearance, which puzzled and angered him, for no one professed to be able to explain what had happened, yet his informants declared that the Roman lady and the Gothic maiden had been carried away without the knowledge of the men who were their protectors.  This was now repeated by Marcian, who professed himself overwhelmed by the event.

‘You have here one Basilius,’ said Chorsoman.

‘The same whom your greatness saw on a certain occasion at Cumae.’

’They tell me he was about to wed with Veranilda.  What does that mean?’

‘An idle rumour,’ replied Marcian, ’springing from vulgar gossip, and from the spiteful anger of the lady sister of Maximus, who hoped to inherit what has fallen to her niece.  Let your valorous magnificence be assured that there is no truth in it.  Can you imagine that I, whose mission is known to you, should have looked on at such an audacity?  I think your perspicuity will not require better proof of the powers with which I am intrusted than that I gave you at Cumae?’

Of the profound contempt proclaimed, rather than disguised, by Marcian’s extravagant courtesy, Chorsoman had no inkling; but his barbaric mind resented the complexity of things with which it was confronted, and he felt a strong inclination to take this smooth-tongued Latin by the throat, so as to choke the plain truth out of him.  Why, he demanded fiercely, had not Aurelia and her companion travelled straight on to Rome, as he had been assured they were to do?

‘For a simple reason,’ answered Marcian.  ’I judged an escort necessary, and only yesterday did I obtain it.  This very day should we have set forth.’

’You speak of one Venantius and his followers—­he who just now, I am told, threatened to massacre the harmless citizens of Surrentum.’

’I would rather say the most noble Venantius, a senator, but for whose presence this villa would have been sacked by a thievish rabble from below.’

‘Let me see him,’ said the Hun, his eyes like those of a boar at bay.

‘Will it please your Illustrious Magnanimity to eat with us?’

‘I will eat when I choose.  Fetch here Venantius.’

Marcian despatched the porter, and in a few moments Venantius appeared, behind him his armed men.  A hand lightly on his sword, as though he played with the hilt, his head proudly erect, the Roman noble paused at a few paces from the Hun, and regarded him with bold steadfastness.