"And a captive," added Gibamund.
They hastened to rouse the King. But Gelimer came in full armor out of his tent to meet them.
"You are stained with blood--both. You, too, Ammata; are you wounded?" His voice was tremulous with anxiety.
"No," laughed the handsome boy, his eyes sparkling brightly. "It is the blood of the enemy."
"The first that has been shed in this war," replied the King, gravely, "sullies your pure hand. Oh, if I had not consented--"
"It would have been unfortunate," Gibamund interrupted. "Our child has done well. Go to the tent for Hilda, my lad, while I deliver the report. So, chafing with impatience, we long endured your keeping us so far away from the foe; we have followed their march at a great distance, unsuspected even by their farthest outposts. When to-night you finally permitted us to ride nearer to their flank than usual, in order to discover whether they really intended to go to Decimum to-day unprotected by the fleet, and to pass at noon through the Narrow Way, you said that if we could obtain a captive without causing much disturbance, it would be desirable. Well, we have not only a prisoner, but more; we found an important strip of parchment on him. And it is fortunate; for the man refuses to give any information. See, they are bringing him yonder. There come Thrasaric and Eugenia; and Ammata is already drawing Hilda here by the hand."
"Welcome," cried the young wife, hastening toward her beloved husband, but she shrank in embarrassment from his embrace, for the captive was already standing before the King. With hands bound behind his back, he darted savage glances from beneath his bushy brows at the Vandals, especially at Ammata. Blood trickled from his left cheek upon the white sheepskin that covered his shoulders; his lower garment also--it reached only to the knee--was of untanned leather; his feet were bare; a huge spur was buckled with a thong on his right heel, and four gold disks, bestowed by the Emperor and his generals in honor of brave deeds (like our orders), were fastened on his heavy leather breastplate.
"So," continued Gibamund, "toward midnight, with only ten Vandals and two Moors behind us, we rode out of camp toward the distant light of the hostile campfires, cautiously concealing ourselves behind the long mounds of sand, stretching for half a league, which the desert wind is constantly heaping up and blowing away again, especially just on the edge of the wilderness. Under the protection of this cover, we advanced unseen so far eastward that we saw by the glare of a watchfire--probably lighted to drive away the wild beasts--four horsemen. Two sat crouching on their little nags, with their bows bent, gazing intently toward the southwest, whence we had come; the other two had dismounted and were leaning against the shoulders of their horses. The points of their lances glittered in the flickering light of the fire.
"I motioned to the two Moors, whom I had taken with us for this clever trick. Slipping noiselessly from their steeds, they threw themselves flat on the ground and were scarcely distinguishable in the darkness from the surrounding sand. They crept on all fours in a wide circle, one to the left, the other to the right, around the fire and the sentinels, until they stood northeast and northwest of them. They had soon vanished from our sight, for they glided as swiftly as lizards.
"Soon we heard, on the other side of the watchfire, toward the north, the hoarse, menacing cry of the leopardess going out with her cubs on the nocturnal quest of prey. The mother was instantly answered by the beseeching cry of her young. The four horses of the sentinels shied, their manes bristled; the scream of the leopardess came nearer, and all four of the strangers--they had probably never heard such a sound--turned in the direction of the noise. One of the horses reared violently, the rider swayed, clinging to its mane; another, trying to help him, snatched at the bridle, his bow falling from his hand. Profiting by the confusion of the moment, we glided forward in perfect silence from behind the sand-hill. We had wrapped cloth around the horses' hoofs, and almost reached them unseen; not until we were close by the fire did one of the mounted men discover us. 'Foes!' he shouted, darting away. The other rider followed. The third did not reach the saddle; I struck him down as he was mounting. But the fourth--this man here, the leader--was on his horse's back in an instant; he ran down the two Moors who tried to stop him, and would have escaped, but Ammata--our child"--he pointed to the boy; the captive gnashed his teeth furiously--"shot after him like an arrow on his little white steed--"