Scarcely had Witichis, Rauthgundis, and Dromon left the passage and safely reached the dwelling of the latter, when six Isaurian mercenaries rushed noisily into the passage.
Quick as thought Rauthgundis ran out of the house to the heavy iron door, shut it, turned the key, and took it out.
"Now they can do no harm," she whispered.
The husband and wife presently hastened from Dromon's house to the great gate which led from the court into the street. The single sentinel who had remained behind stopped them and demanded the watchword. "Rome," he cried, "and----"
"Revenge!" cried Witichis, and struck him down with the axe.
The sentinel screamed and fell, hurling his spear at the fugitives. It pierced the last of the three--Dromon.
As Witichis and Rauthgundis rushed down the marble stairs of the palace into the street, they heard the imprisoned soldiers thundering at the strong iron door, and a loud voice calling: "Syphax, my horse!" Then they disappeared into the darkness.
A few minutes later the courtyard was bright with the lights of many torches, and several horsemen galloped off to the different gates of the city.
"Six thousand solidi to whoever takes him alive; three thousand if he be brought in dead!" cried Cethegus, swinging himself into the saddle. "Up, Sons of the Wind, Ellak and Mondzach, Huns and Massagetæ! Ride as you have never ridden before!"
"But whither?" asked Syphax, as he galloped out of the gate at his master's aide.