"Not so," said Valamir; "that were a still greater shame! Let it be said that he died from the bursting of his mighty heart after the intemperance of last night's revel: and that we found him suffocated in his blood, and the bride--as all may see her carried forth--in a dead swoon from terror."
"But what shall be her fate'" demanded Onegisus; "what shall be her doom hereafter?"
"Onegisus," replied Ardaric, solemnly, "thou hast a wife whom thou lovest! thou hast a daughter dear unto thine heart! Look upon yon fair girl, and think she is thy child. Remember the terrible cause that she has had; remember that her mind, as all of us have seen, has wandered since the tale of this youth's death; remember all that thou wouldst remember were she thy child, and then say what shall be her doom!"
Onegisus turned away his head: and stretching forth his right hand, "Let her go free!" he said; "let her go free! But if it come to Ellac's ears, fearful will be the consequences."
"Fearful to those who fear him," replied Ardaric, his lip curling with scorn. "She shall go safe. Valamir, Edicon, what say ye?"
"Let her go safe," replied Edicon.
"She has done a great deed of sovereign justice," replied Valamir, more boldly. "Let him blame her who will. I give her mighty honour! Let her go safe!"
"All are agreed!" cried Ardaric. "Edicon, my friend, call up to the antechamber my train and that of Valamir, and let her be carried instantly hence; not to her own tent though, but to mine, under the care of my wife. I can trust thee, Edicon, from what passed between us yesterday--I can trust thee. Take this ring! Bid my squadrons come down hither with all speed!"
"And my brave Goths," added Valamir, "shall glide down and interpose between us and the Huns. Theodore, stay thou with us. Valamir and Ardaric pledge their hands to thee for thy safety and the safety of thy bride."
Theodore stood as one dumb; for life was a thing which had passed from his thoughts and his hopes, and he had only longed to die with her he loved Eagerly, however, did he grasp the hands of Ardaric and Valamir, and willingly did he intrust the fair inanimate form of that unhappy but heroic girl to the noble friends who had interposed to save them both. Borne upon a couch from that fatal chamber, he beheld her carried forth towards the tents of Ardaric; and in a few minutes after, the faithfulness of Edicon to his trust was displayed by the rapid movement of the Gepidæ down towards the pavilion. Dark and powerful, the squadrons swept around, while the Goths of Valamir marched on likewise, and cut off the spot where the corpse of the mighty king reposed from the great body of the Hunnish cavalry. Nor was their appearance too soon; for all, by this time, within the pavilion and without, was a scene of clamour and confusion, which might well have ended in bloodshed had not the two monarchs possessed power at hand to enforce obedience to their commands.