He spoke like a prophet; and Ildica took the dagger, and gazed upon its blade. "Do you mean," she asked, after a long pause, "that I should use this thing against my own life?"
"No," answered Zercon, eagerly; "no! I have never used it against mine; but I have felt that there was a point at which endurance was bound to stop; and that, if the time should come when opportunity favoured the blow, I was called upon by the immutable command of nature to strike in my own defence. That opportunity has never come; for it would but little serve me, when a tyrant ordered his slaves to cut away my ears or my thumbs, to take the life of one or two of his instruments. Had he been within arm's length himself, he had died as surely as I lived."
Ildica mused with a melancholy look, still holding the dagger on her knee, while Neva, with the negro slave, gazed up in her face. The Moor seemed to read her thoughts. "Lady," he said, "I hold the same faith as you do. I have held it from my youth; but I am justified. Read in that book, if thou canst read; not in the latter part alone, but in the former also; and thou shalt find that our country's defence or our own has been held just and righteous cause for slaying the oppressor. Lady, I say no more. Conceal the weapon in your robe; and should you ever have cause to use it, let it be no hasty, ill-considered blow, aimed in the terror of the moment, but with calm deliberation, in a chosen time, with the strength of virtue and of justice, and the firmness of conscious right. I have given you what, if wisely used, is better than a jewel; but I will serve you with my heart's dearest blood to avoid the necessity of ever using it; and now farewell."
He retired as he spoke; and Ildica, taking up the dagger, held it for a moment firmly in her hand, and then placed it in her bosom. Neva gazed upon her as she did so with a look of deep emotion; and then, sinking on her knees beside the fair Roman, threw her arms around her, and hid her face upon her lap, murmuring, "Oh, may you never have to use it!"
[CHAPTER XVI.]
THE POWER OF RESOLUTION.
Scarcely was Zercon gone when the hangings of the tent which he had let fall behind him were again pushed aside, and an old woman, of some barbarian tribe, frightful in features, and fantastically dressed, entered and stood before Ildica. Neva started up; and when she beheld this personage she turned very pale.
"What wouldst thou?" demanded Ildica, in her own language; but the woman did not seem to understand her, and continued to gaze upon her from head to foot.
"What wouldst thou?" repeated Neva, in the Hunnish tongue; in reply to which the old crone burst into a loud and scornful laugh, adding, "I came to see what I have seen!" and, turning as she spoke, she left the tent without waiting for further inquiries.
"Who is that, dear Neva?" demanded Ildica. "She is rude and strange in her demeanour."