"Thou hast spoken truly, my friend," continued Ardaric: "she may trust in me when you are gone! and she may have cause to trust. Attila has dealt hardly with thee, I know not why. I love not to inquire. Let me not wrong him by suspicions; but ever since that fatal battle in Gaul he has been an altered man. Had he been always thus, he would never have reached the height of power he has attained. He has grown more like his brother Bleda, jealous, hasty, intemperate--ay, and deceitful too. He may hide his future purposes from mine eyes, perchance; but Ardaric knows that he is changed, and is upon his guard."
"I see it too," cried Theodore--"I see it too; but even if this change bodes ill to me, what can I do to guard myself against it? What evil, think you, he meditates against me?"
"Nay, I cannot tell," said Ardaric: "I know not, nor will pretend to guess; and as to guarding against it, I can give but one advice--return as speedily as may be. Lose no time; fear not to kill your horses; and as you named two months to Attila himself, be not a single hour beyond that time, as you value happiness and peace."
"But why," exclaimed Theodore, "why think you that his wrath points more particularly to me?"
"I know not well how to answer," replied Ardaric. "When we see a dull gray vapour gathering over the western sky, we say there will be a tempest soon. When we see the light clouds making the mottled heaven look like a dappled steed, we augur it will rain. Light signs forbode heavy storms; and when I see many a changeful variation in the mood of a man once so firm and steadfast, I am apt to augur evil, and to guess where it may fall. Towards you, to whom he was once kind as the spring rain, Attila is now harsh and fierce, and I argue thence that, for some cause, you have lost that favour which shielded you hitherto. But there is another reason why I bid you be upon your guard. You once tarried long, I have heard, in the house of Bleda, the brother of the king, and must have often seen his daughter Neva."
"Often, very often," answered Theodore: "a sweet, devoted, beautiful girl, whose whole happiness seemed to rest in doing good to others. But I injured her not!"
"Thy fate seems of deep interest to her," replied Ardaric, with a passing smile, "for she sought me out this evening as we were encamping on the hills--"
"Is she here, then?" cried Theodore, in surprise.
"Yes, and thousands of others," answered Ardaric: "the camp is full of women. One would guess we were going to people some uncultivated land, for we bear almost all our women and children with us. But Neva is here; for, alas, poor girl, her home is now desolate. Her mother died some few weeks ago. But, as I have said, not only the men of the land, but the women of the land also, have come forth to war."
"Then I shall leave my Ildica," said Theodore, "with a lighter heart. Where there are women, she will find some to pity and console her."