"Were you to go thither even next year," Theodore observed, while speaking on the subject with Flavia alone, "Ammian would be some protection to you all; for I remark that his bold spirit and his mountain sports are every day giving greater vigour to his limbs, and his frame is towering up towards manhood. A year will do much in such pastimes as these, while the free and wild simplicity of the barbarian habits will secure him against the weak and effeminate manners of Rome; and, at the same time, it were but right and necessary that both he and Eudochia should receive that civilized education which can be obtained nowhere but in the empire."
"Alas! my son," replied Flavia, "I fear that it will be long ere Ammian can give us that protection which thou mightst do; for, though courageous to a fault, and resolute, yet there is a wild and heedless spirit in his breast which often prevents his nobler qualities from acting as they might. His heart is kind and generous, his mind upright and noble; but in the exuberance of his youthful daring, and the wanderings of a wild imagination, he forgets too often, Theodore, that there is such a thing as danger to himself or others. He wants prudence, he wants consideration, he wants that calm presence of mind which sees under all circumstances that which is best to do, and is ever ready to do it."
"But, my mother, he is yet but a boy," replied Theodore: "time will give prudence, experience will give judgment, and age will tame quickly the wildest and most wandering fancy. At all events, I only desire that you should have a refuge prepared. Doubtless--both because this mighty barbarian does really, I believe, regard me with affection, and because he has been taught to imagine that there is some mysterious connexion between his fate and mine--doubtless, I say, he will allow me from time to lime to renew the visit he has now permitted; at all events, I will find means to send, both to give you my tidings and to gain news from you. If there be danger, I will let you know, and be ready ever, upon but a short warning, to fly to the court of Valentinian. As I go hence, I shall visit the capital of the Alani by the banks of the Inn; for the kindred that I have among them might think it strange and wrong were I to pass through the land without seeing them; and, when there, of course I will do all I can to ensure that the refuge which you have here received shall be as safe, as peaceful, and as happy as it can be made. There is much in the ties of blood, even between a Roman and barbarian, and I think that my requests will find favour among the Alani."
Theodore would fain have lingered and protracted the hours; for although he knew that he soon must go, and the thought of parting sadly imbittered even the present, yet around Ildica there was to him an atmosphere of light and happiness, which banished all that was dark and gloomy from his heart. But he had made a promise to Attila, and with Theodore a promise was inviolable. Ildica, too, would fain have detained him, would have fain drank slowly out the last sweet drops of the cup of happiness which had been offered to her lip: they were but the dregs, it is true, and bitter was mixed with them, but yet the taste of joy remained; and if she could not have it pure and unalloyed, she yet lingered over the last portion, however sadly mingled. But Theodore had given a promise; and Theodore's unstained integrity and unvarying truth were as dear to Ildica as to himself--were dearer, far dearer, than any personal enjoyment. She would not have him forfeit his word to Attila, in order to remain with her, for all that the world could give; and she herself bade him go whenever she learned that he had barely time to accomplish his journey by the path that it was necessary for him to follow. They parted--not now, however, as when last they parted; for then before them had stretched out nothing but one vague and indefinite expanse--the gray cloud of the future! on which even the eye of fancy could scarcely trace one likely form, through which the star of hope shone faint and powerless. Now, after all those fearful scenes and that dreadful separation--scenes and circumstances which had benumbed their feelings, and, like some crashing wound, which by its very severity deprives the sufferer of his sense of pain, had left them bewildered and almost unconscious, till time had shown them the deprivation they had undergone. Now they had met again; hopes that they had scarcely dared to entertain had been realized ere the heart grew weary with delay. They had known a longer and more tranquil period of happiness than they had ever tasted since first the mutual love of their young hearts had been spoken to each other; and hope, the sweet sophist, skilful in turning to her purpose all things that befall, drew arguments from past joy in order to prove her promises for the future true.
They parted then: Ildica declared that she wished him to go, and Theodore strengthened himself in the remembrance of his promise. Yet, nevertheless, let no one think that their parting was not bitter: Theodore struggled even against a sigh; and over the cheeks of Ildica rolled no tear, though on the dark long lashes that fringed her eyelids would sparkle like a crushed diamond the irrepressible dew of grief. Yet, nevertheless, let no one think the parting is ever less than bitter, when, even in the brightest day of youth, two hearts united by the great master bond which God assigned to man to bind him in the grievous pilgrimage of life to one chosen from all his kind, are separated from one another for long indefinite hours, with loneliness of feeling and the dim uncertainty of human fate hanging over them like a dark cloud. Who shall say, when thus they part, that they shall ever meet again? Who shall say with what dark barrier the mighty hand of destiny may not close the way? whether death, or misfortune, or interminable difficulty may not cut short hope or weary out the spirit in the bondage of circumstance, till expectation is vain of reunion on this side the tomb?
They parted firmly: but such partings are ever bitter; and when Theodore was gone, Ildica wept for long hours in silence; while he, as he rode on, beheld nothing of all that surrounded him; for the soul was then in the secret chamber of the heart, communing sternly with her own grief.
FOOTNOTES
[Footnote 1]: It may not, perhaps, be unnecessary to remind the reader that Christianity, though established in both the eastern and western empires, was still far from universal; and even in the minds of its most enthusiastic votaries was strangely mingled with the picturesque superstitions of a former creed; so that the same man was often a Christian in belief, who was pagan in many of his habits and almost all his familiar expressions.
[Footnote 2]: Cowley.
[Footnote 3]: The learned reader will perceive that I have changed the last syllable of this name, for the sake of a more regular feminine termination than the original gives, in sound at least, to an English ear. Let me acknowledge at once, also, that I have followed the same bold plan throughout, changing everything that did not suit my purpose.