DEATH OF MYSTACON
They all went quickly to the villa of Symmachus, and prepared to mount their horses. Coelred and Porlor had already explained what was about to happen to their kind old friend Otacilia, and taken their leave. "Will you be able to ride, my Sivel?" asked Forthere, as he tenderly embraced his recovered brother. "Anywhere with you," replied the boy. He looked very pale and ill. But there was no time to be lost. They hastily mounted, and, led by Coelred, they galloped down to the Asinarian Gate. The guard turned out, and was attacked furiously by the Englishmen. Two men were cut down, and the rest ran away for help. Bassus and Lilla dismounted to unbar and throw open the gates, and they all galloped out into the starry night. For several hours they rode on at a steady pace, but they did not appear to have been followed. So they stopped for a few hours of rest before sunrise, tethered their horses, and were soon fast asleep. Next day they continued to ride northwards, stopping at noon for a short siesta. All this time they had been too eager while riding, and too tired when resting, to consult much with each other; and they were awakened from their noonday sleep by a great band of armed and mounted warriors who surrounded them. Roughly seized, they were almost in despair when they were dragged before the commander of this force.
But all turned out well. In the handsome warrior with huge drooping moustache Coelred was reminded of the Gothic Prince Athanagild. "He must be of our kindred," he thought, and spoke to him in English, saying that he and his companions were Englishmen, escaping from bondage at Rome, who threw themselves on his protection. The commander was well pleased, received the lads as his countrymen, and enlisted them in his force. It was quite providential that they should have fallen in with these Saxons, for they would be taken by them in safety within easy reach of England. A large Saxon army of nearly 20,000 men had entered the service of Agilulphus, who ascended the throne of the Lombards in 590. But they were not satisfied, and were about to return in a body to their own country on the lower Rhine. There was nothing to stop them, and a few months after our English lads entered their ranks they commenced their march over the Alps, and down the course of the Rhine, a journey presenting physical difficulties, and of great interest, but involving no danger when in such powerful company. This protection continued until our young heroes found themselves on the shores of the German Ocean, facing their own native land. They had resolved to return from the first. They were always confident that the happy day would come. Alca had told them that they were not to die in a distant land. Now they were full of joyful anticipations. Her words, as they always knew, were true. The years of banishment were past and gone for ever.
PART III
WORK
So much to do that is not e'en begun.
So much to hope for that we cannot see,
So much to win, so many things to be.