Attila rolled his eyes over the whole group in silence; and Edicon, with those who surrounded him, well knowing that the fierce and eager mood of their lord would pass away, retired slowly from his sight, leading Theodore with them. No tranquil spot, however, no place of refuge or repose, did that wide city now contain. Plunder was still going on, though slaughter, insatiable still, even when gorging upon thousands, had exhausted nearly all, but only halted for want of food. Some wretched woman, indeed, or some helpless child, was dragged every now and then from its ineffectual hiding-place, and a solitary scream or a dying groan marked the new victim. But the work of butchery was now wellnigh complete; and conflagration, spreading rapidly in every part, threatened to consume the barbarian victors themselves, in the burning city which they had captured and destroyed.
A small open space, near what was called Trajan's Gate, at length afforded a place of repose to Edicon and his party; and there, following the example of the Huns, Theodore alighted from his horse, and, sitting down upon one of the massy stone steps before a dwelling which had once belonged to some rich banker, and had been one of the first to be plundered by the barbarians, he covered his eyes with his hands, and tried to shut out even from memory the horrors which he had just beheld.
In vain--it was vain! Confused, countless, terrible images and feelings of destruction and despair rushed through his burning brain and his indignant heart, and drove him wellnigh to madness. At length two or three wild notes of some barbarian trumpet, loud, long, and melancholy, sounded through the streets, and were heard above the general roar of the Hunnish multitudes, coming from different quarters of the city. Edicon sprang up and mounted his horse; and, seeing Theodore remain in the same attitude of despair, he exclaimed, "Up, up, we must away! It is dangerous to linger."
Theodore rose slowly; and though the curling flames which at once struck his eye, flickering above all the buildings around, together with the shower of sparks and flakes of fire which were falling incessantly from the dense and lurid clouds of smoke above, showed that the words of Edicon were true, and that the warning voice of the trumpet had only been sounded in time; yet slow and heavily did the young Roman rise, as if he would willingly have remained to die in the flames of that vast holocaust to the barbarian god of warfare. In vain the Huns urged him to haste; he gazed upon them dark and gloomily, as if the bitterness of death itself were passed; and they, with all their power, could do no more.
With strange and unusual gentleness for one of so fierce and uncontrollable a nation, Edicon endeavoured to persuade him to follow them from the captured city. He offered no violence, he used no rude command; but, after every other argument had failed to quicken the movements of the young Roman, he added, as if he could have divined the only chord which--left strung and resonant where so many were broken--could still vibrate the touch, "Remember that there are others in the world to whom your life is dear; beings kind, beautiful, and beloved, who may need the protection of your arm, the consolation of your affection, and the shelter of your breast."
The tears rose in Theodore's eyes: but the thrilling life of human hopes and fears was once more kindled from among the dead ashes of despair; and, springing on his horse, he followed wherever they would.
Wild, and terrible, and extraordinary was the scene of confusion and disarray which followed, while the Huns, some fast and eagerly, some lingering with their appetite for plunder still unsated, poured forth from the gates of the burning city. Order and ranks were there none. Tumult and confusion, loud cries, wild laughter, shouts of triumph, and barbarous songs, dark masses whirling hither and thither, horses, which had lost their masters, seeking them familiarly through the crowd, the rush of innumerable multitudes, and the mighty hum of congregated myriads, formed all that was seen and heard over the wide green fields which surrounded what a few hours before had been Viminacium--except when, loud and slow, surmounting every other noise, were heard the long, melancholy notes of the barbarian trumpet, calling conquerors from the work of spoil and desolation.
Sweeping round in a semicircle upon the declivity of the hills which domineered the city, the host of Attila was at length gathered together, at the end of about two hours after Theodore had seen the barbarian monarch in the forum. The youth had set apart upon the edge of the hill gazing upon the dim multitudes, as they covered and struggled up the intervening space between the walls and the spot where he was placed. The same party of Huns which had always hitherto accompanied him, more to protect than to detain him, remained with him still, except, indeed, Edicon, who had left him for the time. At length, however, he reappeared, and, sitting down beside the youth, addressed him kindly.
"The king," he said, "has asked for you. The fierce cloud of strife has passed away from his heart, and the sun will shine upon those that approach him now. Let us draw near. Lo! yonder he stands, where you see the crowd upon that high knoll. The warriors are going to bring their booty before him. If thou hast any boon to ask at his hands, ask it now."
Theodore rose, and followed on foot, though there was a fevered weariness in his blood, a confused giddiness in his brain, which prevented him from clearly comprehending, or, indeed, from taking any interest in the words that were addressed to him. Even when he had approached the presence of him on whom his whole fate now depended, the objects passed before him as if in some unreal pageant, wherein he had no feelings engaged, and by which curiosity and admiration were hardly excited.