Again he seemed to hear peals of song in the sky and their rhythm in hoof and scabbard. It put him in mind of that strange, mysterious chant of the old singer.
Soon he drew rein, saying: "Halt and listen!" They stopped, conscious only of the great silence of the night. Vergilius felt for the arm of his friend.
"What think you?" said he, his voice full of wonder. "I doubt not the sound is in our fancy."
"See! The star! It grows!" said David, eagerly. "'Tis like a mighty lantern hung in the dome of the sky."
Then said Vergilius, a pagan fancy filling his mind: "It may be God is walking upon the earth."
A moment they rode on, looking up at the heavens. Suddenly Vergilius bade them halt again, saying: "Hist! What is that cry?"
Now they could hear a faint halloo far behind them.
Then the bearer of the colors remarked: "It might be the squad of
Manius."
"God curse him!" said Vergilius, quickly, his heart filling with passion dark as the night around. He heard no more the great song, but only the smite of steel in deadly combat. He seemed to see his enemy fall bleeding at his feet. "I will take what Herod offers," he thought. "I will make war on the cats and the serpents."
He had forgotten everything now save his bitterness.