Gelimer wiped his sword-blade on the tiger's soft skin and thrust it into the sheath. Then he went back to his horse and stood drawn up to his full height, leaning against its shoulder, his helmeted head held proudly erect. He had retained as king the old helmet with the wings of the black vulture (they seemed now to stir in menace), and merely added Genseric's pointed crown. A look of sorrowful contempt rested on the throng; Deep silence reigned for the moment; speech failed even the boldest of the nobles.
CHAPTER XVIII
The King's brothers, at the head of their horsemen, now entered the square; they had witnessed the horrible incident from their saddles. Springing to the ground, they passionately clasped Gelimer's hands.
"What troubles you, brother?" asked Gibamund. "That is not the glance of the rescuer."
"O my brother," sighed Gelimer, "pity me! I feel a loathing for my people; and that is hard."
"Yes, for it is the best thing we possess," replied Zazo, gravely.
"On earth," answered the King, thoughtfully. "Yet is it not a sin to love even this earthly thing so ardently? All earthly possessions are but vanity. Is it not true of our people and our native land?--" He sank into a deep reverie.
"Wake, King Gelimer!" called a voice from the throng in friendly warning.
It was Thrasaric. The sudden change had roused his wonder. He, too, had turned to meet the tiger, but the King, who, from his seat on horseback, had seen the animal crouching to spring, anticipated him. Him--and another.
The older of the two foreigners had stood still, his spear poised to hurl.