"Not so!" said Attila, gazing upon the group, and somewhat moved by their meeting. "He is no slave, but has bound himself to dwell with Attila not less than seven years. Neither do I ask him to war against his country, it would be doing wrong unto his nature; but I ask him to be a faithful and true friend to him who has saved his life, in every other thing. Edicon, thou art a scribe: write down this compact between Attila the King and Theodore the son of Paulinus, in order that no one may ever doubt that he did not betray his native land, or that Attila could not be generous to his enemy."
He spoke in the Latin tongue; and though he used not that language with ease, yet his meaning was distinct, and Flavia replied--"Act ever thus, oh monarch! and thou shalt conquer more by thy generosity than by the sword!" A hope might, perhaps, have crossed her mind, even while she spoke, that in so free and kindly a mood the monarch of the Huns might be induced to suffer her and her children to take up their abode in the same land with Theodore; but she thought of Ildica, of her young blossoming beauty, of her tender nurture, and her graceful mind, and she repressed the wish ere it was spoken; all she added was, "Oh, keep him not from us for ever!"
"I have pledged and plighted my word," replied the king, "that in seven years he shall be free to leave me if he will. More: if he show himself as faithful to me as he has been to his country, he shall, from time to time, have leave and opportunity to visit those he loves. But I have mightier things to think of now," he continued: "wait ye here till I provide for your safety. Ardaric, come thou with me; I go to tread upon the necks of the Romans." Thus saying, he sprang upon his horse, and issued a few brief commands in the Hunnic tongue. The dark masses of the barbarian horse began to move on by the river-side as if towards Idimum; and while they swept along, like the shadow of a cloud over a field of green corn, the monarch continued conversing with his attendant Edicon, without further notice of the captives. At length, when Theodore saw him about to depart, he ventured to ask, "Go you to Margus, oh king?"
Attila looked upon him with a smile so slight that it scarcely curled his lip, and replied, "Margus was mine ere I came hither! My people are skilful in dressing wounds," he added; "let them tend thine, for thou art bleeding still."
As he spoke, he raised his hand slightly on the bridle of his horse; the beast sprang forward across the meadow, and, followed by a troop of Huns who had remained upon the left, Attila galloped on in the same direction which his host had taken before him.
Only two bodies of barbarians continued upon the field; one, consisting of perhaps a hundred men, remained with Edicon, near the spot where Theodore and his companions stood; the other, fewer in number, were gathered farther down in the meadow, near which the struggle between Theodore and the Huns for the deliverance of the captives had first commenced. A glance showed the young Roman that they were in the act of removing or burying the dead; but objects of deeper interest called his attention elsewhere, for Flavia, Eudochia, Ammian, Ildica, gathered round him, gazing in his face, pale as it was with loss of blood, and looking upon him with the thankful eyes of beings whom he had delivered from bondage worse than death. How he had delivered them, by what means, or by what motives in the breast of the Hun that deliverance had been accomplished, was strange and incomprehensible to them all, even to Theodore himself; but that it was by his agency, on account of his valour, constancy, and faithfulness, none of them for a moment doubted; and as Ildica raised her large dark eyes to his face, they were full at once of love, of admiration, and of gratitude.
Oh, who can tell the mingled feelings of that hour, when sitting round him they loved--while one of the rude Huns, with the peculiar appliances of his nation, stanched the trickling blood and dressed his many wounds--those who had lately given way to despair, now spoke to each other the few glad words of reviving hope! Oh, who can tell the deep and fervid yearnings of the heart towards God in thankfulness for the mighty mercy just vouchsafed! Oh, who can tell the thrilling, the ecstatic sense of security, of peace, and of happy expectation which succeeded, after having been plunged in such a depth of grief, of care, and agony!
What though their thoughts might wander on into the vague future, and sad experience might cause a fear to cast its shadow over the prospect! What though Flavia's heart might feel a chilliness at the idea of strange lands, strange habits, and strange nations! What though Ildica and Theodore might look upon a probable separation of seven long years with grief and regret; yet oh, how such pitiful alloy sunk into nothing when mingled with the golden happiness of knowing that safety, liberty, and peace had been obtained after so fearful a struggle! Could Theodore gaze upon the lovely and beloved form of the sweet Dalmatian girl, and know how dreadful a fate might have befallen her, without feeling that life itself would have been a poor sacrifice to save her from such a doom? Could Ildica behold her lover, and recall the moments when last she saw him surrounded by fierce foes, and determined to die, that he might give her a chance of liberty, without feeling that a seven years' absence was but a cheap price for the life and safety of so noble, so devoted a being?
To part--to part, perhaps, for seven long, solitary years--would, in happier days, have seemed a fate too bitter for endurance; but now, the dark and fearful images from which that lot stood forth made it look bright and smiling. The hour of horror and danger had passed by; despair had given way: and though fear still lived, yet hope, hope was the victor for the time.
Their words were few but sweet, and they were uninterrupted; for the Huns, after the youth's wounds were dressed, pointed out to them some shady trees as a place to repose, and left them unrestrained, and almost unwatched. The barbarians knew well that the whole land around was in their king's possession, and feared not that any one could escape. The words of the captives, I have said, were few, but still those words were not unimportant, for they went to regulate the future fate of all. Each promised, when occasion served, to give tidings of their health and prospects, hopes and wishes, to a mutual relation in Rome, the noble Julius Lentulus, and each unloaded the mind to the other of every feeling which, in a moment such as that, the heart could experience, of every thought which the memory could recall.