They took some steps homeward; but, ere they had gone far, she paused, and laying her hands upon his, she said, "Oh, Theodore! promise me, that if ever, while you are in your land, you need help or aid, you will send to me. Send me this trinket back by a messenger;" and she gave him one of the small golden ornaments which she wore in her hair; "send it me back, and I will come to you, be it wheresoever it may. Deeply as I love thee, I would not wed thee now for worlds; but, oh! I would give life itself to render thee some service, which should make thee say in after years, 'Alas! poor Neva! she loved me well indeed!'"
Thus wandered they homeward; and often did she pause to add something more, and to give some new token of that deep and all unconcealed, but pure affection, which had taken so firm a hold of her young heart. Theodore, too, strove to sooth and to comfort her; and all that was kind, all that was tender--except such words as only the ear of the beloved should ever hear--he said, to give her consolation. As they came near the village, however, she spoke less, for she seemed to fear that her emotions might leave traces behind for other eyes than his; but she gained courage as they went on; and, to Theodore's surprise, when they joined the household, no sign of all the busy feelings which he knew to be active in her breast was in the slightest degree apparent, except, indeed, in a shade of grave melancholy, which was not natural to her.
She chose the moment while all were assembled at the morning meal to announce to her mother the necessity of Theodore's departure. The matron had made some observation upon the young Roman's recovered health, when she replied, "We shall lose him soon, my mother. He has been telling me that the commands of Attila the King were strict, that he should go on to the king's own dwelling by the Teyssa."
She spoke calmly; so calmly, indeed, that there were but two persons among all the many who seemed to notice that she touched on things more interesting than ordinary. Theodore could not but know all the emotions which that calm tone concealed; and her mother, as soon as she heard the subject of her discourse, fixed her eyes upon her with a look of mingled wonder, tenderness, and surprise, as if she, too, could see into her daughter's heart, and asked, by that glance, "Can you, my child, talk thus calmly of his going?"
After that momentary pause, however, she replied aloud, "If Attila bade him go forward, the king must be obeyed. My son, you should have told us this before; for though my husband is also a king, yet Attila is his elder brother, and we wish not to offend him."
"If fault there be," replied Theodore, "the fault is mine. The commands of the king affixed me no certain time; and I do, indeed, believe that he named his own residence as my dwelling-place only for my greater safety."
"'Tis not unlikely," said the wife of Bleda; "but still, my son, you must obey: tarry not here more days than needful; for we know not when Attila or Bleda may return."
Theodore, too, knew that it was needful he should go, and yet he felt regret at leaving those who had treated him with so much kindness and tenderness; at leaving scenes in which he had known a brief interval of tranquillity and peace, after having undergone so long a period of grief, of horror, and of danger. He gave himself but the interval of one day, however; and then, in the early morning, his horse and his followers stood prepared at the door. The wife of Bleda gave him her blessing as he departed with motherly tenderness; and Neva herself stood by, and saw him mount without a tear wetting the dark lashes of her tender blue eyes, without a sigh escaping from her lip. All she said was, "Farewell, my brother: remember us."
Theodore himself could have wept; and as he saw her stand there in her beauty, her innocence, and her devoted love, deeply and bitterly did he regret--ay, and reproach himself, for having, however unwittingly, brought a cloud over her sunshine, and first dulled the fine metal of her bright and affectionate heart. He sprang upon his horse and rode away, turning back more than once to gaze upon them as they stood gathered round the door of their dwelling, and to wave his hand in token of adieu.