Upon the brow of the promontory, Theodore and Ildica sat and gazed, and thought over the future, with sweet hopes and dark apprehensions crossing the expanse of thought, like the sunshine and the shade that flitted across the mountains before their eyes; and ever and anon they spoke over many things, with that unreserved confidence which is one of the sweetest drops in the ambrosial cup of love. Since they had last met, the tone of Ildica's mind had undergone some alteration. It had become deeper, more intense, more enthusiastic. In everything that engaged her--though there might be fewer things that did so--she took a profounder interest; and, whether it was her love for Theodore, her devotion to the bright faith in which she had been reared, her love for her mother, or any other thing in which her heart was concerned, there was a depth, a strength, an energetic eagerness in her whole feelings which raised and ennobled her still more than ever in the eyes of her lover.
They sat and gazed. Wide spread over the valley below, and up the sides of the hill, even higher than themselves, might be seen various parties of the Huns, seeking forage for their horses, or food for themselves; and as the eye of Theodore was turned towards the entrance of the valley, where mountain falling over mountain seemed to close up the pass, he thought he saw a considerable degree of bustle and movement in a body of about thirty or forty of the barbarians, whom he had marked winding down in that direction by the banks of a small stream that entered the lake hard by. It subsided in a few minutes, however, and he took no further notice, pursuing his conversation with Ildica, and looking on well pleased, while the Huns, in a spot void of other inhabitants, engaged themselves in a thousand peaceful occupations, as if they never sought for strife or dipped their hands in blood.
Half an hour more had elapsed, or perhaps scarcely so much, and Theodore and Ildica were deep in the business of their own hearts, when suddenly a step sounded among the tents behind them, which--wherefore he knew not--made Theodore start and turn round.
What was his astonishment when, not a spear's length from him, he beheld Attila himself,[[4]] who, advancing with a slow step, looked upon the young Roman with a smile as distinct as ever crossed his stern, fixed countenance. The next moment, however, the glance of the barbarian monarch turned upon Ildica; and the light of suddenly-excited admiration shone forth from his eyes. It was but momentary, however, and, addressing himself kindly to Theodore, he said, "So, my son, thou hast left the bright court of Valentinian to come back to the barbarian. Thou art welcome; for I may chance to have much need of thee; and thou shalt find, as thou hast found, higher honours and a kinder monarch in the land of the stranger than in thine own."
Thus saying, he sat himself familiarly down upon the bank between Theodore and Ildica. She, however, rose, and was about to retire into the tent; but he stopped her, gently saying, "Do not depart! Fear me not, fair one; I will not injure thee. Who is this, my son?" he continued, addressing Theodore--"is this thy sister?"
"Not so, oh king!" answered Theodore, who had always found it best to speak to Attila the straightforward truth, without the slightest disguise or concealment. "Not so: she is my promised bride, and in a few days will be my wife."
"'Tis well!" said Attila; "'tis well! She is beautiful, and doubtless good. I will witness thy nuptials, and give thee the bridal present; for I hear, from those whom I met but now at the end of the valley, that thou needest a protector, and one shalt thou find in Attila."
Ildica still stood lingering, as if anxious to retire; and the monarch of the Huns perceiving her embarrassment, added suddenly, "Well, hie thee in, then, fair one; thou fearest the barbarian king; but Attila can be gentle to those he loves. I will pass this day with thee, my son; and this timid girl shall see that he whom she has been taught to look upon as a cruel tyrant, can sit him down as peacefully to a calm and humble board as the most polished and effeminate Roman of them all can cast himself on his couch to gorge upon a thousand dishes. Hie thee in, fair one; I will speak with thy lover alone."
Ildica obeyed; and after she was gone Attila remained for several moments in a deep fit of thought. Then, raising his head, he turned to some of his attendants who stood near, saying, "Get ye gone, and bring up hither the roe deer that the men took in the forest as we came along, with what fish ye can find in the stream. Here will I take my evening meal. Get ye gone, all of you."
The attendants departed as they were bid; and Attila again fell into a deep fit of thought, after which he turned to Theodore, and said, abruptly, "I am glad thou hast come back. This Valentinian, this woman-emperor, is insolent, and must be punished; and I am well pleased that thou dwellest not among those who will soon feel the sword of Attila. Knowest thou what has happened in the East?"