"Theodore," he exclaimed, while an expression of pleasure and expectation lighted up his features, "I trust you are come to bear me good tidings, and that the Lady Flavia is not so rashly obstinate as when last I saw her."
"Far from it!" said Theodore, gravely, "I have come but to tell you that we remain Romans to our death. All who entered the gates last night, except myself and a few slaves, are by this time an hour's journey on their way to Noricum."
"Rash woman! what has she done?" cried the bishop, clasping his hands; "she is lost, she is lost! Fly, Theodore, quick! Fly like the lightning! Bring her back hither; or, if she will not come, lead her on the road to the south, anywhere but the road she has taken."
Theodore gazed upon the agitated countenance of his uncle in amazement; but the bishop continued, more vehemently than before, "Fly! do I not tell you to fly? Lose not a moment! breathe not a word! Away, as if a lion were behind you. The Huns are already across the river, on the very road she has taken. If she will not return hither, seek for no highway, look for no easy path, but plunge at once into the country, and hurry to the southward, making not a moment's pause!"
Without a word of reply, the youth darted through the vacant rooms, passed the gates of the dwelling, the Basilica, and the Forum; reached the house where the horses and slaves remained, sprang upon his charger's back, and, followed by the rest, dashed out towards the walls of the city. The gates were open, but, to his surprise, no soldiers, no gatekeepers were now there. The guard had been withdrawn for purposes which he too well divined; and passing out unquestioned, he hurried on with the same frantic speed in search of those he loved.
[CHAPTER XI.]
THE SEARCH.
Hurrying on without pause, and impressed with but the one overpowering thought of the danger of all he loved on earth, Theodore soon reached the banks of the Danube, and gazed onward upon the road, which for several miles lay straight before him. But nothing met his sight, either to raise his hopes or increase his apprehensions; all was open and clear, and not even a cart or a beast of burden from the country, no, not a single peasant bringing in his basket of fruit or flowers, arrested the eye, as it wandered down the long, straight avenue. A pair of enormous eagles, whirling slowly round, high up in the blue morning sky, was the only sight of animated being that presented itself; the singing of a light bird, too lowly and insignificant to fear those majestic tyrants of the skies, and the dull roar of the great river, were the only sounds that broke upon the ear.
Hope sets her quick foot wherever fear leaves the space vacant; and Theodore trusted that Ildica might have passed on ere the Huns had crossed the river. He paused not, however, at the voice of the siren, but still urged on his horse, gazing anxiously forward, and listening for every sound. The five freedmen who had remained with him followed as fast as they could, but the superior power and swiftness of the young Roman's charger left a short but increasing interval between them. That interval was less, perhaps, than half a mile, when Theodore reached the wooded rocks, round whose immoveable bases the road was forced to wind; but his faithful Cremera saw him disappear behind them with apprehension, and urged on his horse with eager haste, till he and the rest had also turned the angle of the rocks, and once more beheld his master.
Theodore was now at less than a hundred yards' distance: he had dismounted, and, with the charger standing beside him, was kneeling over some object which had attracted his attention on the road. When the freedmen came up, they too sprang to the ground to look upon the sight which had stopped him. It was the body of one of their companions, who had been selected, like themselves, to bear arms upon the dangerous journey they had been forced to undertake. His spear was in his hand, with the iron red with blood, and in his heart was fixed a reed arrow, such as some of the Scythian nations used in their wars.