She gazed, however, with a bright and cheering smile upon Ammian and Eudochia, as they knelt to pledge that sacred vow which she, too, hoped and believed would secure for them as much happiness as this world could bestow. She herself felt within her bosom rise up at the sight the memory of bright hopes and aspirations passed away, and the spring of life for the moment flowed more freely. They, as they looked upon her, saw a happy change, and gladdened their own hearts by the thought that her health was better, and looked forward to the future with hopes for her as well as for themselves.
Others, however, were present in the church; and Attila himself, with arms folded on his bosom, stood not inattentive to the words which a Christian priest addressed to the fair young beings met together there to be parted no more. That priest was a venerable and a fearless man; and after his blessing had been spoken, and the indissoluble contract sealed, he poured forth an exhortation to maintain and hold fast the purer faith in which they had been educated, touching boldly on the doctrines of his holy religion as conrasted with the pagan superstition of many who heard him, and appealing to the consciences of all men to decide whether sublime purity of soul and body were not the doctrines which God might teach and men revere.
Attila listened in silence, though many of the barbarian chieftains around frowned angrily to hear their ancient faith assailed from the lips of one of a people whom they looked upon as conquered and trodden upon under foot. Attila, however, listened, as we have said, in silence; and only twice during all that ceremony did he take his eyes from the priest, to turn them for a moment upon the lovely countenance of Ildica, and glance over that unrivalled form which might well have made the sculptor blush at his imperfect works. They were withdrawn as quickly as turned thither, and he fixed them on the priest again, and listened to his glowing eloquence as one who could admire, though unconvinced.
The ceremony was over, the prayer prayed, the exhortation made. The feet of Ammian's horse was heard without pawing impatiently the ground; the litter which was to bear Eudochia into Thrace was prepared; the slaves who were to accompany her, and the guards which Attila had directed to conduct them in safety to the frontiers of the Eastern empire, stood ready before the gate. But when the bridegroom and the bride rose up from the altar, without turning to bid their mother farewell, they advanced hand in hand to Attila, and knelt together at his feet.
"Oh, great king!" said Ammian, "thou hast made us happy, and we have to beseech thee to add yet one favour more. To return unto our native land is joy, for we love no land like that; but if our mother return not with us, the joy withers, and, like a flower in the night, it may be beautiful, but we cannot see it for want of the sunshine to make it expand. Let us beseech thee, then, oh king! crown thy great goodness unto us, and either let our mother and our sister bear us company on the way, or let us remain here till they may go there too."
Attila listened with the same calm, steadfast look which in former days used never to be absent from his countenance; and no features of his face could have betrayed the slightest emotion produced by the words of Ammian. When the youth had done, he replied, "Thy mother and thy sister must not depart; and I have promised the son of Paulinus that thou shouldst join him with his sister in Thrace."
He paused for a moment, and thought deeply, turned his eyes to Ildica and Flavia, and then added, "Nevertheless, ye shall stay or go, as your mother wills. If ye go not, the breach of the promise be upon you. Attila has prepared to fulfil it; but he will not, he cannot drive a son from a mother, and that mother ill as she is."
Ammian and Eudochia rose and clung to Flavia, each exclaiming, "Oh let us stay, my mother! let us stay till Theodore returns!"
Flavia pressed them to her heart, and kissed the fair brow of that sweet girl; but she did not reply for some moments; while Eudochia, linking her hand in that of Ildica, exclaimed, "Plead for us, dear Ildica! Plead for us, my sister!" and Ildica turned her lustrous eyes upon her mother, as if doubting and inquiring what she should do.
To Flavia it was a moment of the most intense pain, to which the heart of any mortal being can be subject--it was the struggle of duty against the tenderest, the noblest of human affections. It was a dying mother placing one of her children in safety, with the certainty of never beholding him again, even while obliged to leave another in the midst of perils without any support. It was a moment of most intense, intolerable pain; and yet she conquered it.