Ildica heard him with apparent calmness; but Neva felt the fingers of her beautiful hand clasp tight with agonized emotion on her own.
The fair girl's lips moved, but no sound issued forth. Another struggle, they moved again, and her voice was heard!
"Who shall resist the will of the king?" she said, and bowing her head, she suffered the messenger to depart. The curtain of the tent fell behind him; and starting up, she fell at the feet of Mizetus. Then clasping the old man's knees with her arms, she exclaimed, "No vow! No vow! I can take no vow! Save me from that!"
"Fear not," replied the hermit--"fear not, my daughter! Thou shalt take no vow. Be but a passive instrument in the hands of God!"
[CHAPTER XXI.]
THE BRIDAL OF ATTILA.
On an eminence rising above the banks of the river, near which the vast army of the Huns pitched its camp on the ensuing night, was found a splendid pavilion, with workmen still labouring hard to complete it, when the vanguard of the army reached its ground. Ere Attila himself arrived, the whole was finished; and a palace of richly-ornamented woodwork, mingled and decorated with hangings of crimson and gold, waited his approach.
The mood of the monarch, however, was not placable; and the workmen whom he had sent forward to prepare his abode received no token of his thanks or approbation, notwithstanding the skill and zeal which they had displayed. Those who had accompanied him on the way had found good cause to mark his discontented humour; and Ardaric and Valamir, and even Onegisus himself, had seized the first opportunity of withdrawing themselves from the side of one who treated all with indignity, which their free spirits could but ill bear. The cause of this harsh rumour might be, it was whispered, that Ardaric had ventured remonstrances, and Valamir had seconded them, which were displeasing to the ear of Attila; but never before, in his most passionate moods, had he given way to such intemperance of language as he had that day displayed towards two of his noblest and most disinterested supporters. An hour after their arrival, however, they received a summons to attend the bridal and the banquet of the mighty king; and to the pavilion on the hill they took their way, clothed in the most splendid robes that the camp could supply.
In a vast hall, decorated by crimson hangings, which many a tributary land had combined to furnish, stood Attila himself, already surrounded by a multitude of his officers and chiefs. To the astonishment of every one there present, however, the monarch of the Huns appeared not now in the plain garment of his Scythian ancestors. For the first time in his life, gold, and jewels, and vestures of silk covered the powerful limbs of the mighty conqueror. The heavy iron sword which never before had left his side was now no longer there. All the rude weapons of war were carefully excluded from his dress; and jewels of inestimable value bound his haughty brow.
In the same hall, at the farther end, was raised a temporary altar, festooned with green leaves and the few autumnal flowers which the country round could supply. Elevated upon that altar was seen the ponderous sword of the Scythian Mars, famous in the history of Attila's reign, from the singular manner in which it had been found. Beside it stood a number of the Scythian priests; and the steps which led to it were thickly strewed with leaves of the wild laurel and the hemlock.