Theodore pointed in silence to the corpse, gazed for a moment round, and followed with his haggard eye the long track of the road, apparently to discover if any new object of horror lay before him; and then, after once more looking sternly upon the dead man, he shook his sword from the sheath, sprang again upon his horse, and galloped on his way. As he went, however, his eye searched anxiously on the ground for further traces regarding the too evident fate which had befallen Flavia and her company; nor was he without finding such marks; the ground was dented and beaten with horses' feet, and stains of blood here and there showed that there had been a contest of a fierce and desperate kind on the spot over which he passed.
Scarcely three hundred yards from the place where lay the body of the freedman, a small road turned off to the left, leading down through the woods, with which that part of the country was thickly strewn, to the banks of the river Margus, higher up than the city. At that point, too, the traces, which had hitherto marked so plainly the course which those he sought for had pursued, no longer afforded him a clew; for, separating as it were into two distinct streams, the footmarks of the horses went on in either track, leading, on the one hand, towards Tricornium, and, on the other, into the thinly-peopled and half-cultivated country towards Illyria.
He paused in doubt; and the agony of impatience, even at a moment's delay, was only equalled by that of apprehension lest he should mistake the path, as he turned from one to the other. However, the sun, just rising above the trees that fringed the bank, suddenly poured a stream of light upon the left-hand road, and the rays caught and glittered on some shining substance, which lay at about a bowshot distance. Theodore darted forward, and his doubts were removed at once; for that which accidentally flashed back the sunshine to his eye was the collar of emeralds which he himself had borne to Ildica from his father Paulinus. He hesitated no longer, but hurried on; and, ere he had proceeded more than a quarter of an hour, the sound of voices and the neigh of horses told him that his speed had brought him near to those he had pursued.
What was his purpose? he himself scarcely knew: it was vague, undefined, uncertain: it might be to save, it might be to live or die with those whom he loved.
The spot where he then stood was a wooded covert, near the brow of a high hill, which, sloping down on the other side beyond him, left the forest on its summit, and stretched into natural meadows, covering the bottom of a sweet and tranquil valley. He knew not, however, what was the scene beyond the brow; but he heard voices and barbarian tongues, and was hurrying on to meet the fate in store for him, whatever that store might be, when the figure of a woman darted through the wood; and Flavia, pale and sad as a statue on a tomb, stood by his horse's side, and threw her arms up to clasp him as he sat.
"My children! my children!" she cried; "oh, Theodore! my children are in the power of the Huns!"
"Where?" demanded Theodore; and his fierce and flashing eye, and knit determined brow, told that he was prepared to do those deeds which were once common among the children of his native land: "where?" he demanded, and it was the only word he spoke.
"Down in yon meadow," replied Flavia, "over the brow of the hill. But listen: oh God! they might yet be saved if we had but fleet horses: there are few of the barbarians with them; those few are revelling at their morning meal: the rest are gone to pursue the party from Tricornium."
"What party?" cried Theodore: "is there a chance of any aid?"
"Alas, no! my son," she replied, in the same rapid tone; "alas, no! We met a centurion and his soldiers coming from Tricornium to Margus, and while we were in parley with him, the barbarians suddenly fell upon us, like a cloud of brown locusts upon the fertile land: there was resistance and strife, and I sought to flee with the children. I know not how it happened; for it was like struggling with the waves of a tempestuous sea, all terrible, and nothing distinct; but at length, when I could discern anything, I found myself alone, defended by Acer, the freedman, against a single Hun, who lingered behind to seize upon me as his prey, while the greater body of his companions pursued the centurion along the high road, and a few hurried down hither with their captives and plunder. Though wounded, the freedman defended me as if he had been a Roman, and struck the fierce barbarian with his spear a blow that made him fly; but, as he galloped off, he drew his bow, and in a moment an arrow was in Acer's heart. I was alone; my children were in captivity, and I followed hither; for I had only sought to save myself with them, but not to live without them."