"I will go forth myself, alone, unaided, I will save him."
"You must not, Julia."
"Who shall prevent me? Who dare to part a betrothed maiden from her true lover,—true, alas! in death! in death!"
"I will," replied Petreius firmly. "You know not the perils of such a night as this. The gaunt wolves from the Appennines; the foul and carrion vultures; the plundering disbanded soldiers; the horrid unsexed women, who roam the field of blood more cruel than the famished wolf, more sordid than the loathsome vulture. I will prevent you, Julia. But with the earliest dawn to-morrow I will my[pg 238]self go with you. Fare you well, try to sleep, and hope, hope for the best, poor Julia."
And with a deep sigh at the futility of his consolation, the noble Roman left the tent, giving strict orders to the peasant girls who had been pressed into her service, and to Arvina's freedmen who were devoted to her, on no account to suffer her to leave the camp that night, and even, if need were, to use force to prevent her.
Meanwhile the frost wind had risen cold and cutting over the field of blood. Its chilly freshness, checking the flow of blood and fanning the brow of many a maimed and gory wretch, awoke him to so much at least of life, as to be conscious of his tortures; and loud groans, and piercing shrieks, and agonizing cries for water might beheard now on all sides, where, before the wind rose, there had been but feeble wailings and half-unconscious lamentations.
Then came a long wild howl from the mountain side, another, and another, and then the snarling fiendish cry of the fell wolf-pack.
Gods! what a scream of horrid terror rose from each helpless sufferer, unanimous, as that accursed sound fell on their palsied ears, and tortured them back into life.
But cries were of no avail, nor prayers, nor struggles, nor even the shouts, and trumpet blasts, and torches of the legionaries from the camp, who hoped thus to scare the bloodthirsty brutes from their living prey, of friend and foe, real comrade and false traitor.
It was all vain, and ere long to the long-drawn howls and fierce snarls of the hungry wolves, battening upon their horrid meal, were added the flapping wings and croaking cries of innumerable night birds flocking to the carnage; and these were blended still with the sharp outcries, and faint murmurs, that told how keener than the mortal sword were the beak and talon, the fang and claw, of the wild beast and the carrion fowl.