Ardaric made no reply, but looked gravely down upon the ground, and Attila fixed his eyes upon him for several moments, as if in surprise at his silence. But there was something in the breast of Attila, a consciousness, a sense of duplicity even towards Ardaric, which made him forbear to question his friend. Attila was afraid to ask why Ardaric replied not! Attila, the mighty, the unconquered, the unconquerable Attila, was cowed by his own heart! Yes, Attila was afraid!
[CHAPTER XIII.]
THE BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT.
It was the same hall, but the things within it were changed. It blazed with lights; it was crowded with people; and the leaders of the Hunnish host stood round Attila the King, while in the clear deep tones of command he gave directions for their march on the following day. On his left hand, at some distance from the chair in which he sat, appeared a group in the Roman dress, consisting of Ildica, Ammian, Eudochia, and Theodore, with a number of the household slaves of Flavia, and the barbarian followers of the young Roman gathered together behind them.
Seated in the midst of her children was Flavia, the only person except the monarch who did not stand; but there was the weariness of illness on her face and in her attitude, and the chair she occupied had been looked upon by her and her family as a token of Attila's kind observation.
Suddenly the tones of Attila ceased as he gave his last commands to the leaders round him, and then, after a pause, he exclaimed, "Theodore! Come hither, my son; the king has a duty to impose on thee!"
Theodore gave a bright glance to Ildica, and advanced till he stood before the monarch, his countenance beaming with happy anticipations, and his heart beating high with the glad hope of soon bearing his sweet bride back to their own dear land. But the countenance of Attila was stern and grave; and Ardaric, who stood on his right hand, cast down his eyes as Theodore approached.
"My son," said Attila, "thou art very young, and yet unto thee am I about to intrust a mission on which may depend the lives of millions, the fate of empires, and the destiny of the whole world. The monarch of the East has sent unto me hither a bold and insolent ambassador; and were I to read the feelings of Marcian in the conduct of his messenger, I should instantly employ those arms which carried death and victory to the shores of the Ægean Sea not many years ago, to humble the pride and punish the faithlessness of this new emperor. But I have heard what thou canst tell of him--thou who hast known him from thy childhood; and Attila is inclined to respect and love Marcian. Attila may be his friend, if Marcian will; for while he treads upon the worm and struggles with the tiger, he admires the lion and the eagle--kings in their kind like himself. Go, then, to this thy friend: return to him with the ambassador he has sent hither, and tell him the words of Attila. Say, if thou wilt, that on thy report of his great nobleness, Attila desires rather to be at peace than at war with Marcian; and ask what he will do to gain our friendship. It is not the pitiful thought of a few ounces more or less of yellow earth that moves Attila; and if Marcian be poor, let him say so; but justice Attila will have in all things, and his honour and dignity will he defend so long as he has life. Go, then, to Marcian; tell him these things. Tell him what Attila is, and bring us speedily thine answer. If thou usest diligence, thou wilt find us between this and Rome. Seek the envoy from the East, and depart with him. Thou shalt have the train of a prince to honour Attila's mission, and gold to pay thy journey through a sordid land and among a grasping people."
"Willingly, oh Attila!" replied Theodore, "do I accept the charge; and honouring thee, as I do from the depth of my heart, for all the noble deeds that I have seen, and loving thee for all the kind ones thou hast done to me and mine, I will labour with the zeal of true affection to do thy bidding well."
As he spoke, a red flush came over Attila's forehead; and a large vein that wandered through the broad skin of his uncovered temples swelled and wreathed like a snake caught under the fork of a husbandman. Theodore, however, marked not the unwonted emotion, and went on. "Nor do I doubt," he said, "success in my undertaking; for, in the same manner, do I love and honour Marcian for the same noble deeds and the same kindness unto me and mine. I hope, I trust, I think that he loves me too, and therefore do I judge that I, perchance--however young and inexperienced I may be--that I may succeed better than one older and a stranger. Give me but to-morrow for repose, and on the following day I am ready to set out."