"Receive it all with gratitude," replied Edicon, "and he may prove a father to you. Nor must you think Attila harsh and fierce towards any, except in the hour of battle, when the spirit of war is upon him, and with the powers of a god he claims the attribute of vengeance. No! though grave and stern, he is just and humane towards his people. Determined in his purposes, inflexible in his judgments, his purposes towards those who obey him are mild, his judgments even against himself are equitable. It is only the traitor among his own people, the aggressor among foreign nations, that he treats with rigour."
"Think me not ungrateful," said Theodore; "I meant not to accuse thy monarch; and while I felt thankful for the tenderness he hath shown to me and mine--thankful for life and liberty preserved, and for the safety of those who are dearer to me than life itself--I have been forced to marvel that he has dealt so different a measure to me and to others. There is something strange in it."
"There may be so," replied Edicon; "but think you there are no such things as sudden intimations given us from Heaven of those with whom our fate is to be linked for good or evil? Think you that those prepossessions for or against, which we feel so suddenly, so unaccountably, in rare and extraordinary cases, are mere fancies, passing whims, which have no reference to after events?"
Theodore made no reply, for he remembered well his own peculiar feelings when he had first seen that powerful monarch with whom his own destiny had since been so completely mingled. He remembered it well, but he answered not, for the Hun seemed to have seen his feelings, or at least divined them; and at length Edicon went on:--"Such may have been the prepossession of Attila towards you; and we know, or at least believe, that the feelings I have mentioned are given us by the gods, to let us know our friends and enemies. Does not the horse tremble when the unseen lion is near? Do not the bleatings of the sheep warn the shepherd to watch even while the wolf is yet afar off?"
He paused a moment for reply, and then added--"But I will leave you to repose; and yet, ere you seek sleep, take some food, for your eyes are haggard and hollow, your cheek burning as if this tent were a furnace, and you have neither drunk mead nor broken bread during the whole day. Bid a slave bring food," he continued, speaking to those without; and then, taking from one of his own followers the sword which Theodore had left in his hands, he laid it down on the small table by the lamp, saying, "You are now turning to another land. Keep your weapon, for, whether you need it or not, it is always well to be prepared. Add to it a javelin and a bow; for, as you go through our country, you may strike a stag or a wild bull, and gain honours in the chase, which we hold next to war. I will now leave you, and see you to-morrow ere you depart."
Thus saying, his conductor left him, and a frightful negro slave, precious in the eyes of the Huns from the hideousness of his face and figure, brought him cooked meat and thin cakes of flour, with a strong drink composed of honey. Theodore tried to eat, but only few were the mouthfuls he could swallow, though the meat was not unsavoury. He tried, too, to drink; but there was a burning heat in his throat and mouth, and the sweet liquor was revolting to his taste.
"I will bring wine," said the negro slave, in tolerable Greek; "I am a present from Attila the King to his Roman son, and he is henceforth my lord. Wilt thou have wine? for it shall go hard but, with mine own wit and Attila's name to bear me out, I will find you as pure wine in the Hunnish camp as ever you tasted in the city of Constantine."
"I would rather have pure water," answered Theodore; "I have a painful thirst upon me; and heart and tongue feel burning as if with fire."
The slave sprang away, and returned in a few moments with both water and wine; and mingling them together, Theodore drank with delight which he had not known for long.
"I thank thee, friend," he said, giving his hand to the slave in gratitude for the blessed draught: "it is exquisite, and I thank thee."