The next morning, before cockcrow, a veiled woman rode out of the camp. A man in a brown war-mantle walked beside her, holding her horse's bridle, and ever and again looking into her veiled face.
At an arrow's length behind them rode a servant, with a bundle at his back, where hung a heavy club.
They went on their way for some time in silence.
At last they reached a woody eminence; behind them lay the broad plain where stood the Gothic camp and the city of Ravenna; before them, to the north-west, the road which led to the Via Æmilia.
The woman checked her horse.
"The sun is just rising. I have sworn that it shall find thee free. Farewell, my Witichis!"
"Hurry not so away from me," he said, pressing her hand.
"I must keep my word if my heart breaks! It must be!"
"Thou goest more easily than I remain!"
She smiled painfully.