“He believes on his sword and his mission, and death is for him only the door to his real home. Therefore he lives here below, as though he were a guest or traveller.”
“Quite like the Christians, then?”
“It is remarkable that in Rome he received respect from Pope Leo—What’s the matter now?”
Outside there was a shouting which at first seemed to issue from the palace, but soon spread itself over the camp. Half a million of men were howling, and it sounded like weeping.
The guests hurried out, and saw all the Huns dancing, cutting their faces with knives, and shouting unintelligible words. Edeko came up and pulled Orestes away through the crowds. “Attila is dead! May Jesus Christ be praised!”
“Dead? That is Ildico’s doing!”
“No! she sat by the corpse, veiled and weeping.”
“Yes, it is she.”
“Yes, but these savages are too proud to believe that Attila could be killed by a human being!”
“How fortunate for us!”