The hearts of the men in the pass beat with expectation.
"Now be cool, men," said Valerius; "let none be tempted out of the pass. You in the first row will press your shields firmly together; we in the middle will throw; you three in the rear will hand us the spears, and be attentive to all that takes place."
"Sir! sir!" cried the Goth who stood in the road behind the pass, "the light! the ship approaches ever nearer!"
"Be wary, and challenge it, if----"
But the enemy was already at hand. It was a troop of fifty mounted Huns, carrying a few torches. As they turned round the corner of the road, the scene was illuminated with patches of glaring light, contrasted with deep gloom.
"It was here, sir!" said the horseman who had escaped. "Be cautious."
"Take back the dead man and the horse," commanded a rough voice, and the leader, lifting his torch, rode slowly towards the entrance of the pass.
"Halt!" cried Valerius in Latin; "who are you, and what do you want?"
"I have to ask that!" returned the leader of the horsemen in the same language.
"I am a Roman citizen, and defend my fatherland against all invaders!" cried Valerius.