Ildica cast her arms around her and melted into tears; and then, suddenly raising her head, she gazed upon the lovely countenance of Bleda's daughter, and turned, as if with the inspiration of sudden hope, towards Theodore. "Oh, Theodore, Theodore!" she exclaimed; "thou mayst be happy yet."
He seemed to gather her meaning in a moment. "Hush!" he exclaimed, in a tone almost rendered stern by the very vehemence of his feelings. "Hush, hush, Ildica--by the sacred purity of thine own heart--hush!"
He cast his arms around her, and pressed her to his bosom; and then, knowing how valuable every moment of that night might be, he gently drew her onward towards the litter which stood without, surrounded by a large body of the barbarian horsemen. Ardaric was there, but he gazed on Theodore and Ildica in silence; and the young Roman, raising her in his arms, placed her himself in the double litter. He assisted Neva to follow and seat herself by Ildica's side. "Farewell, Neva!" he said; "gentle, excellent girl, farewell!--Theodore will ever love you as a brother. Ildica, my bride, my promised, my beloved, farewell! Ere two days be over, I will follow thee on thy way."
She suffered him to embrace her again as she lay on the litter, and she returned the embrace. But, as her cheek lay on his shoulders, she murmured, "Farewell, beloved of my youth! beloved shalt thou still be, even unto death; but hope no vain hopes, Theodore; Ildica is vowed unto prayer and unto repentance. Farewell for ever!"
The litter moved on; the dull sound of the horses' feet was heard upon the grass; the last horsemen filed away over the hills; the sounds of the departing force grew fainter and more faint; the noises of the several camps around rose louder on the ear; and Ardaric laid his hand upon Theodore's arm, saying, "They are gone! Let us to counsel, my friend."
[CHAPTER XXIV.]
THE END OF A SAD HISTORY.
It was a fair autumn day, and the mighty clouds which swept from time to time over the deep blue sky served not to lessen, but rather to increase the brightness of the face of nature. In the centre of the plain which lay between two wide sloping hills was erected a tent of crimson silk, the awnings of which, festooned on high, exposed to view, raised on a low platform, a coffin of burnished gold.[[6]]
The space around, for the distance of two bowshots on every side, was kept clear; but beyond the limits of that open ground, in one wide-spreading ring, extended the dusky line of barbarian warriors, whose hands had carried desolation into the heart of so many sunshiny and prosperous lands. Deep was the phalanx of those dark warriors, as, each mounted on his battle-steed, they sat in grim array around the body of their king. The whole plain was occupied by their multitude; and while the soldiers and chiefs themselves thus formed in regular order a living amphitheatre below, the women, the children, and the slaves swept up the hills around and gazed upon the awful spectacle.
After the first confusion incident to giving form and array to such a vast body of men had subsided, the sad and solemn occasion of their meeting, the important and terrible events that were likely to ensue, kept even the rude barbarians hushed around; and though the dull stamping of the horses, unconscious of the cause of halt, raised a murmuring sound, the human voice was not heard throughout that mighty host, or, at most, a low whisper rustled through the ranks.