"Not one," replied Ardaric; "not one, I hear. Neva, dead Bleda's daughter, who dwells in our tents with my own children, reported that she went alone; and none has been with her so much as Neva! She went alone, Valamir: she went alone to her abhorred task, whatever that task may be! Let us early to-morrow to Attila, and let us go together. My heart is not at rest!"
Within the tent by which they stood were, as Ardaric conjectured, the slaves and attendants of Ildica, weeping for their mistress, who had gone forth alone, solitary, unaided, unbefriended, in that awful hour of trial; and had gone so by her own choice. Collected in the outer chamber of the tent she had occupied, they mourned as for her funeral; but in the inner chamber of that tent were others who mourned not less, but whose mourning was mingled with a strange agitation which was neither hope nor fear.
By the light of a lamp, holding high a wooden cross, stood the hermit Mizetus, and at his feet knelt the fair girl Neva, raising her eyes to the symbol of a new faith which the enthusiast had lately planted in her heart. Dark and obscure as was his own knowledge of the truth, clouded by a bewildered brain and distorted by wild fancies, he had still been able to show her a glimmering of the light which was afterward to shine upon her more fully. Both were pale and haggard, and moved by the anticipation of great and terrible events; and as they passed there the long hours of that dreadful night, the young, fair, lovely maiden kneeling at the feet of that old ascetic, the tears poured down her cheeks in torrents; the sobs burst struggling from her young kind bosom; and often the agony and apprehension of her heart convulsed her form as if in the grasp of death.
"Fear not, fear not, my daughter!" would the hermit exclaim. "Fear not for her! fear not for us! There is a mightier power than any on the earth to shield us! There is a greater arm than ever drew mortal sword to defend us! Even were we in the gates of death itself, I would bid thee fear not; for God has broken the bonds of the grave asunder, and provided a ransom to deliver us from hell itself!" Thus did he speak through the livelong night, and thus did he try to give her consolation and support; still bidding her not to fear, till at length he said, "Fear not, maiden! fear not! Lo, the night is past, and the morning is come; and after the darkness in which we walk upon this earth shall come the light of a brighter day! Fear not! fear not! I say unto you, fear not!"
[CHAPTER XXII.]
THE DEATH OF THE MIGHTY.
All was quiet amid the splendour of the pavilion of Attila. Not a sound was heard within its walls, though the light of day had made the long morning shadows short, and the squadrons of Huns had for some hours been moving in the plains below. Ellac and his forces had gone forth with the dawn of day to occupy the new ground appointed for the evening halt: and two or three hundred thousand men had followed some hours after. The heavier cavalry of the Gepidæ and Ostrogoths hung like dark clouds upon the sloping hills between which the river wandered; but while the Huns themselves continued to march on under their several leaders, according to the commands they had received upon the preceding evening, the forces of the two great auxiliary nations remained stationary, waiting the orders of their several kings.
Ardaric and Valamir, followed by a large train of their chief nobles, had ridden at an early hour to the pavilion of their great leader to felicitate Attila on his nuptials; and now they waited with Onegisus and Edicon, in an inner apartment of the pavilion, which served as an antechamber to that in which the mighty king reposed. They had remained there several hours; and while Ardaric spoke in a louder tone with Onegisus, Valamir conferred with Edicon apart. Doubt and anxiety, however, were now beginning to cloud the countenances of all; and some of the inferior attendants from time to time looked in, to see if the kings had yet been admitted to the presence of their chief.
"This is very strange!" said Ardaric, at length: "what may it mean?"
"It will soon be noon!" said Valamir; "and it is more than strange that he who through life has risen daily with the morning light should show himself thus tardy."