"An eagle!" exclaimed the monarch: "so wild and fierce a bird to alight and rest amid a troop of men!"
"It is strange, indeed, oh king!" said Theodore, "most strange, but no less true; and its very strangeness made all men but himself believe that it was an indication of some future greatness."
Attila replied not, but remained several minutes with his eyes bent upon the ground; and then, starting somewhat abruptly, he exclaimed, "Let us into thy tents, my son; I will eat with thee and drink with thee this night; and then leave thee till to-morrow, when thou shalt go back with me to Tridentum. There my own ambassadors and those of Marcian come to seek me; and as I will not ask thee to bear arms against thy country, instead of taking thee with me to sweep away Valentinian and tread upon Rome, I will send thee to this noble monarch of the East. Thou mayst do more with him, perchance, than a mere stranger."
The heart of Theodore beat high, for he saw before him a prospect of better things and happier days. The hope of a journey to Constantinople, where he might place Ildica, and all who were dear to him, under the generous protection of Marcian, was in no slight degree joyful, and he at length beheld, or imagined that he beheld, a certain and permanent refuge for the future, and a happy termination to all his wanderings. Gladly, then, did he express his willingness to accept the office which Attila proposed to confer upon him; and though there was something dark, and even gloomy, in the countenance of the king as he followed the young Roman into his tent, yet the eyes of Theodore were lighted up with joy and satisfaction, which spread itself to all around.
He found no opportunity of relating what had happened, or of explaining the hopes and prospects which had cheered his breast, yet Ildica saw sufficient in the glad smile of Theodore's lip to feel sure that some new source of joy had been opened out for them all. At heart, indeed, she was anxious for her mother, who, ill at ease, and reposing in another tent, entered not that in which the king partook of the evening meal with her children; but still the demeanour of the monarch himself, and the satisfaction which he saw upon the countenance of Theodore, banished the darker apprehensions which had mingled with her former hopes.
The dark monarch of the Huns, retaining all his simple habits, drinking from the cup of horn, and served on no richer materials than wood, unbent in the tent of the young Roman, as far as his own stern nature would suffer him to do, from the rigid gravity of his usual demeanour. He spoke kindly and gently to Theodore and the rest, whom he made sit around him, and from time to time his lip almost relaxed into a smile at the wild, light spirit of Ammian, which would have way, notwithstanding the overawing presence of that mighty and terrible man. On Eudochia he gazed as on a beautiful child; and though he but seldom turned his eyes towards Ildica, yet when he did so there was in them an expression which showed that her exquisite beauty, however graceful and refined, was appreciated by the barbarian monarch as much as it could have been by the most delicate sculptor of ancient Greece. Theodore, however, felt no alarm; and as soon as Attila had mounted his horse and departed for his own camp, which was at the distance of but a few miles, the young Roman hastened to communicate to Ildica and her mother his hopes and wishes. He told them the prospect of his being sent on a mission to Marcian; and he besought her he loved to give him her hand, and to go with him as his bride to the city of Constantine. Flavia's countenance lighted up with joy at the thought, and Ildica said not nay. Again the time of their union was named, with but an intervening day, and Theodore lay down to rest with as much happiness as hope can pour into the human breast.
[CHAPTER XII.]
THE PURPOSE OF INJUSTICE.
It was in a vast hall in the ancient city of Tridentum, hanging over the Adige, where, rushing through the mighty rocks of the Rhætian Alps, that river pours on to fertilize the plains of Lombardy, that Attila stood alone, on the evening of the day following his meeting with Theodore. He had sent on messengers to demand the peaceful surrender of the city; and he had promised, in simple but direct terms, that if no resistance were shown, no violence should be offered. The citizens, without any means of defence, gladly embraced the chance of safety; and Attila, entering with a few thousand men, occupied the public places and buildings; while the innumerable army that followed him lay encamped upon the mighty hills that sweep up round about the town, and the trembling inhabitants, shut up in their houses, waited in terrified expectation, hoping that the monarch's promise might be kept, but fearing lest it should be broken.
Attila stood alone; and little could he have brooked that any eye should behold the unwonted emotions that then shook his firm unbending nature. To all his host it had become evident, indeed, that since his encounter with Ætius a great change had come upon him; that his mind had lost a portion of its mighty calmness; that his strong passions had been gradually triumphing over the powerful intellect which had alone sufficed to rule them. But none had ever beheld him moved as he now was moved; and Attila himself, finding that he was shaken by the tempest within his breast as he had never before suffered himself to be, grew fierce at his own weakness, and added to his own emotions, by his very anger at not being able to suppress them; and yet those emotions were not displayed like the passions of ordinary men.