CHAPTER 11.

  GOISVINTHA'S RETURN.

  It was morning. The sun had risen, but his beams were partiallyobscured by thick heavy clouds, which scowled already over thestruggling brightness of the eastern horizon. The bustle and animationof the new day gradually overspread the Gothic encampment in alldirections. The only tent whose curtain remained still closed, andround which no busy crowds congregated in discussion or mingled inlabour, was that of Hermanric. By the dying embers of his watchfirestood the young chieftain, with two warriors, to whom he appeared to begiving some hurried directions. His countenance expressed emotions ofanxiety and discontent, which, though partially repressed while he wasin the presence of his companions, became thoroughly visible, not onlyin his features, but in his manner, when they left him to watch alonebefore his tent.

  For some time he walked regularly backwards and forwards, lookinganxiously down the westward lines of the encampment, and occasionallywhispering to himself a hasty exclamation of doubt and impatience.With the first breath of the new morning, the delighting meditationswhich had occupied him by his watchfire during the darkness of thenight had begun to subside. And now, as the hour of her expected returngradually approached, the image of Goisvintha banished from his mindwhatever remained of those peaceful and happy contemplation in which hehad hitherto been absorbed. The more he thought on his fatalpromise--on the nation of Antonina--on his duties to the army and thepeople to whom he belonged, the more doubtful appeared to him hischance of permanently protecting the young Roman without risking hisdegradation as a Goth, and his ruin as a warrior; and the more sternlyand ominously ran in his ears the unassailable truth of Goisvintha'sparting taunt--'You must remember your promise, you cannot save her ifyou would!'

  Wearied of persisting in deliberations which only deepened hismelancholy and increased his doubts; bent on sinking in a temporary anddelusive oblivion the boding reflections that overcame him in spite ofhimself, by seeking--while its enjoyment was yet left to him--thesociety of his ill-fated charge, he turned towards his tent, drew asidethe thick, heavy curtains of skins which closed its opening, andapproached the rude couch on which Antonina was still sleeping.

  A ray of sunlight, fitful and struggling, burst at this moment throughthe heavy clouds, and stole into the opening of the tent as hecontemplated the slumbering girl. It ran its flowing course up heruncovered hand and arm, flew over her bosom and neck, and bathed in abright fresh glow, her still and reposing features. Gradually herlimbs began to move, her lips parted gently and half smiled, as if inwelcome to the greeting of the light; her eyes slightly opened, thendazzled by the brightness that flowed through their raised lids,tremblingly closed again. At length thoroughly awakened, she shadedher face with her hands, and sitting up on the couch, met the gaze ofHermanric fixed on her in sorrowful examination.

  'Your bright armour, and your glorious name, and your merciful words,have remained with me even in my sleep,' said she, wonderingly; 'andnow, when I awake, I see you before me again! It is a happiness to bearoused by the sun which has gladdened me all my life, to look upon youwho have given me shelter in my distress! But why,' she continued, inaltered and enquiring tones, 'why do you gaze upon me with doubting andmournful eyes?'

  'You have slept well and safely,' said Hermanric, evasively, 'I closedthe opening of the tent to preserve you from the night-damps, but Ihave raised it now, for the air is warming under the rising sun--'

  'Are you wearied with watching?' she interrupted, rising to her feet,and looking anxiously into his face. But he spoke not in reply. Hishead was turned towards the door of the tent. He seemed to belistening for some expected sound. It was evident that he had notheard her question. She followed the direction of his eyes. The sightof the great city, half brightened, half darkened, as its myriadbuildings reflected the light of the sun, or retained the shadows ofthe clouds, brought back to her remembrance her last night's petitionfor her father's safety. She laid her hand upon her companion's arm toawaken his attention, and hastily resumed:--

  'You have not forgotten what I said to you last night? My father'sname is Numerian. He lives on the Pincian Mount. You will save him,Hermanric--you will save him! You will remember your promise!'

  The young warrior's eyes fell as she spoke, and an irrepressibleshudder shook his whole frame. The last part of Antonina's address tohim, was expressed in the same terms as a past appeal from other lips,and in other accents, which still clung to his memory. The samedemand, 'Remember your promise,' which had been advanced to urge him tobloodshed, by Goisvintha, was now proffered by Antonina, to lure him topity. The petition of affection was concluded in the same terms as thepetition of revenge. As he thought on both, the human pity of the one,and the fiend-like cruelty of the other, rose in sinister andsignificant contrast on the mind of the Goth, realising in all itsperils the struggle that was to come when Goisvintha returned, anddispelling instantaneously the last hopes that he had yet ventured tocherish for the fugitive at his side.

  'No assault of the city is commanded--no assault is intended. Yourfather's life is safe from the swords of the Goths,' he gloomilyreplied, in answer to Antonina's last words.

  The girl moved back from him a few steps as he spoke, and lookedthoughtfully round the tent. The battle-axe that Hermanric had securedduring the scene of the past evening, still lay on the ground, in acorner. The sight of it brought back a flood of terrible recollectionsto her mind. She started violently; a sudden change overspread herfeatures, and when she again addressed Hermanric, it was with quiveringlips and in almost inarticulate words.

  'I know now why you look on me so gloomily,' said she; 'that woman iscoming back! I was so occupied by my dreams and my thoughts of myfather and of you, and my hopes for days to come, that I had forgottenher when I awoke! But I remember all now! She is coming back--I seeit in your sorrowful eyes--she is coming back to murder me! I shalldie at the moment when I had such hope in my life! There is nohappiness for me! None!--none!'

  The Goth's countenance began to darken. He whispered to himselfseveral times, 'How can I save her?' For a few minutes there was adeep silence, broken only by the sobs of Antonina. He looked round ather after an interval. She held her hands clasped over her eyes. Thetears were streaming through her parted fingers; her bosom heaved as ifher emotions would burst their way through it in some palpable form;and her limbs trembled so, that she could scarcely support herself.Unconsciously, as he looked on her, he passed his arm round her slenderform, drew her hands gently from her face, and said to her, though hisheart belied his words as he spoke, 'Do not be afraid--trust in me!'

  'How can I be calm?' she cried, looking up at him entreatingly; 'I wasso happy last night, so sure that you could preserve me, so hopefulabout to-morrow--and now I see by your mournful looks, I know by yourdoubting voice, that to soothe my anguish you have promised me morethan you can perform! The woman who is your companion, has a powerover us both, that it is terrible even to think of! She will return,she will withdraw all mercy from your heart, she will glare upon mewith her fearful eyes, she will kill me at your feet! I shall dieafter all I have suffered and all I have hoped! Oh, Hermanric, whilethere is yet time let us escape! You were not made to shed blood--youare too merciful! God never made you to destroy! You cannot yearntowards cruelty and woe, for you have aided and protected me! Let usescape! I will follow you wherever you wish! I will do whatever youask! I will go with you beyond those far, bright mountains behind us,to any strange and distant land; for there is beauty everywhere; thereare woods that may be dwelt in, and valleys that may be loved, on allthe surface of this wide great earth!'

  The Goth looked sadly on her as she paused; but he gave her noanswer--the gloom was deepening over his heart--the false words ofconsolation were silenced on his lips.

  'Think how many pleasures we should enjoy, how much we might see!'continued the girl, in soft, appealing tones. 'We should be free towander wherever we pleased; we should never be lon
ely; never bemournful; never be wearied! I could listen to you day after day, whileyou told me of the country where your people were born! I could singyou sweet songs that I have learned upon the lute! Oh, how I have weptin my loneliness to lead such a life as this! How I have longed thatsuch freedom and joy might be mine! How I have thought of the distantlands that I would visit, of the happy nations that I would discover,of the mountain breezes that I would breathe, of the shady places thatI would repose in, of the rivers that I would follow in their course,of the flowers I would plant, and the fruits I would gather! How Ihave hoped for such an existence as this! How I have longed for acompanion who might enjoy it as I should! Have you never felt this joythat I have imagined to myself, you who have been free to wanderwherever you pleased? Let us leave this place, and I will teach it toyou if you have not. I will be so patient, so obedient, so happy! Iwill never be sorrowful; never repining--but let us escape--Oh,Hermanric, let us escape while there is yet time! Will you keep mehere to be slain? Can you drive me forth into the world alone?Remember that the gates of the city and the doors of my home are nowclosed to me! Remember that I have no mother, and that my father hasforsaken me! Remember that I am a stranger on the earth which was madefor me to be joyful in! Think how soon the woman who has vowed thatshe will murder me will return; think how terrible it is to be in thefear of death; and while there is time let us depart--Hermanric,Hermanric, if you have pity for me, let us depart!'

  She clasped her hands, and looked up in his face imploringly. Themanner of Hermanric had expressed more to her senses, sharpened as theywere by peril, than his words could have conveyed, even had heconfessed to her the cause of the emotions of doubt and apprehensionthat oppressed his mind. Nothing could more strikingly testify to theinnocence of her character and the seclusion of her life, than herattempt to combine with her escape from Goisvintha's fury, theacquisition of such a companion as the Goth. But to the forlorn andaffectionate girl who saw herself--a stranger to the laws of the socialexistence of her fellow creatures--suddenly thrust forth friendlessinto the unfriendly world, could the heart have naturally prompted anyother desire, than anxiety to secure the companion after havingdiscovered the protector? In the guilelessness of her character, inher absolute ignorance of humanity, of the influence of custom, of theadaptation of difference of feeling to difference of sex, she vainlyimagined that the tranquil existence she had urged on Hermanric, wouldsuffice for the attainment of her end, by presenting the sameallurements to him, a warrior and a Goth, that it contained for her--alonely, thoughtful, visionary girl! And yet, so wonderful was theascendancy that she had acquired by the magic of her presence, thefreshness of her beauty, and the novelty of her manner, over the heartof the young chieftain, that he, who would have spurned from him withcontempt any other woman who might have addressed to him such apetition as Antonina's, looked down sorrowfully at the girl as sheceased speaking, and for an instant hesitated in his choice.

  At that moment, when the attention of each was fixed on the other, athird person stealthily approached the opening of the tent, andbeholding them together thus, burst into a bitter, taunting laugh.Hermanric raised his eyes instantly; but the sound of that harshunwomanly voice was all-eloquent to Antonina's senses. She hid herface against the Goth's breast, and murmured breathlessly--'She hasreturned! I must die! I must die!'

  She had returned! She perceived Hermanric and Antonina in a position,which left no doubt that a stronger feeling than the mere wish toprotect the victim of her intended revenge, had arisen, during herabsence, in the heart of her kinsman. Hour after hour, while she hadfulfilled her duties by the beds of Alaric's invalided soldiery, hadshe brooded over her projects of vengeance and blood. Neither thesickness nor the death which she had beheld around her, had possessedan influence powerful enough over the stubborn ferocity which now aloneanimated her nature, to lure it to mercy or awe it to repentance.Invigorated by delay, and enlarged by disappointment, the evil passionthat consumed her had strengthened its power, and aroused the mostlatent of its energies, during the silent vigil that she had just held.She had detested the girl on the evening before, for her nation; shenow hated her for herself.

  'What have you to do with the trappings of a Gothic warrior?' shecried, in mocking accents, pointing at Hermanric with a longhunting-knife which she held in her hand. 'Why are you here in aGothic encampment? Go, knock at the gates of Rome, implore her guardson your knees to admit you among the citizens, and when they ask youwhy--show them the girl there! Tell them that you love her, that youwould wed her, that it is nothing to you that her people have murderedyour brother and his children! And then, when you yourself havebegotten sons, Gothic bastards infected with Roman blood, be a Roman atheart yourself, send your children forth to complete what your wife'speople left undone at Aquileia--by murdering me!'

  She paused and laughed scornfully. Then her humour suddenly changed,she advanced a few steps, and continued in a louder and sterner tone:--

  'You have broken your faith; you have lied to me; you have forgottenyour wrongs and mine; but you have not yet forgotten my parting wordswhen I left you last night! I told you that she should be slain, andnow that you have refused to avenge me, I will make good my words bykilling her with my own hand! If you would defend her, you must murderme. You must shed her blood or mine!'

  She stepped forward, her towering form was stretched to its higheststature, the muscles started into action on her bare arms as she raisedthem above her head. For one instant, she fixed her glaring eyessteadily on the girl's shrinking form--the next, she rushed up andstruck furiously with the knife at her bare neck. As the weapondescended, Hermanric caught her wrist. She struggled violently todisengage herself from his grasp, but in vain.

  The countenance of the young warrior grew deadly pale, as he held her.For a few minutes he glanced eagerly round the tent, in an agony ofbewilderment and despair. The conflicting interests of his dutytowards his sister, and his anxiety for Antonina's preservation, filledhis heart to distraction. A moment more he hesitated, and during thatshort delay, the despotism of custom had yet power enough to prevailover the promptings of pity. He called to the girl--withdrawing hisarm which had hitherto been her support,--'Go, have mercy on me, go!'

  But she neither heeded nor heard him. She fell on her knees at thewoman's feet, and in a low moaning voice faltered out:--

  'What have I done that I deserve to be slain? I never murdered yourchildren; I never yet saw a child but I loved it; if I had seen yourchildren, I should have loved them!'

  'If I had preserved to this time the child that I saved from themassacre, and you had approached him,' returned the woman fiercely, 'Iwould have taught him to strike at you with his little hands! When youspoke to him, he should have spat upon you for answer--even thus!'

  Trembling, exhausted, terrified as she was, the girl's Roman bloodrushed over her pale cheeks as she felt the insult. She turned towardsHermanric, looked up at him appealingly, attempted to speak, and thensinking lower upon the ground, wept bitterly.

  'Why do you weep and pray and mouth it at him?' shrieked Goisvintha,pointing to Hermanric with her disengaged hand. 'He has neithercourage to protect you, nor honour to aid me. Do you think that I amto be moved by your tears and entreaties? I tell you that your peoplehave slain my husband and my children, and that I hate you for that. Itell you that you have lured Hermanric into love for a Roman andunfaithfulness to me, and I will slay you for doing it! I tell youthat there is not a living thing of the blood of your country, or thename of your nation, throughout the length and breadth of this empire,that I would not destroy if I had the power! If the very trees on theroad hither could have had feeling, I would have torn the bark fromtheir stems with my own hands! If a bird, native of your skies, hadflown into my bosom from very tameness and sport, I would have crushedit dead at my feet! And do you think that you shall escape? Do youthink that I will not avenge the deaths of my husband and my childrenupon you, after this?'
/>
  As she spoke, she mechanically unclenched her hands. The knife droppedto the ground. Hermanric instantly stooped and secured it. For amoment she stood before him released from his grasp, motionless andspeechless. Then, starting as if struck by a sudden idea, she movedtowards the opening of the tent, and, in tones of malignant triumph,addressed him thus:--

  'You shall not save her yet! You are unworthy of your nation and yourname! I will betray your cowardice and treachery to your brethren inthe camp!' And she ran to the outside of the tent, calling in a loudvoice to a group of young warriors who happened to be passing at ashort distance. 'Stay, stay!Fritigern--Athanaric--Colias--Suerid--Witheric--Fravitta! Hastenhitherward! Hermanric has a captive in his tent--a prisoner whom itwill rejoice to see! Hitherward! hitherward!'

  The group she addressed contained some of the most turbulent andcareless spirits of the whole Gothic army. They had just been releasedfrom their duties of the past night, and were at leisure to comply withGoisvintha's request. She had scarcely concluded her address beforethey turned and hurried eagerly up to the tent, shouting to Hermanric,as they advanced, to make his prisoner visible to them in the open air.

  They had probably expected to be regaled by the ludicrous terror ofsome Roman slave whom their comrade had discovered lurking in the emptysuburbs; for when they entered the tent, and saw nothing but theshrinking figure of the unhappy girl, as she crouched on the earth atHermanric's feet, they all paused with one accord, and looked round oneach other in speechless astonishment.

  'Behold her!' cried Goisvintha, breaking the momentary silence. 'Sheis the Roman prisoner that your man of valour there has secured forhimself! For that trembling child he has forgotten the enmities of hispeople! She is more to him already than army, general, or companions.You have watched before the city during the night; but he has stoodsentinel by the maiden of Rome! Hope not that he will share in yourtoils, or mix in your pleasures more. Alaric and the warriors havelost his services--his future king cringes there at his feet!'

  She had expected to arouse the anger and excite the jealousy of therough audience she addressed; but the result of her envenomed jeersdisappointed her hopes. The humour of the moment prompted the Goths toridicule, a course infinitely more inimical to Antonina's interestswith Hermanric than menaces or recrimination. Recovered from theirfirst astonishment, they burst into a loud and universal laugh.

  'Mars and Venus caught together! But, by St. Peter, I see not Vulcanand the net!' cried Fravitta, who having served in the armies of Rome,and acquired a vague knowledge there of the ancient mythology, and themodern politics of the Empire, was considered by his companions as thewit of the battalion to which he was attached.

  'I like her figure,' growled Fritigern, a heavy, phlegmatic giant,renowned for his imperturbable good humour and his prowess in drinking.'What little there is of it looks so limp that Hermanric might pack herinto his light baggage and carry her about with him on his shoulderswherever he goes!'

  'By which process you would say, old sucker of wine-skins, that he willattain the double advantage of always keeping her to himself, andalways keeping her warm,' interrupted Colias, a ruddy, reckless boy ofsixteen, privileged to be impertinent in consideration of his years.

  'Is she Orthodox or Arian?' gravely demanded Athanaric, who piquedhimself on his theological accomplishments and his extraordinary piety.

  'What hair she has!' exclaimed Suerid, sarcastically. 'It is as blackas the horse-hides of a squadron of Huns!'

  'Show us her face! Whose tent will she visit next?' cried Witheric,with an insolent laugh.

  'Mine!' replied Fritigern, complacently. 'What says the chorus of thesong?

  'Money and wine Make beauty mine!

  I have more of both than any of you. She will come to my tent!'

  During the delivery of these clumsy jests, which followed one uponanother with instantaneous rapidity, the scorn at first expressed inHermanric's countenance became gradually replaced by a look ofirrepressible anger. As Fritigern spoke, he lost all command overhimself, and seizing his sword, advanced threateningly towards theeasy-tempered giant, who made no attempt to recede or defend himself,but called out soothingly, 'Patience, man! patience! Would you kill anold comrade for jesting? I envy you your good luck as a friend, not asan enemy!'

  Yielding to the necessity of lowering his sword before a defencelessman, Hermanric was about to reply angrily to Fritigern, when his voicewas drowned in the blast of a trumpet, sounding close by the tent. Thesignal that it gave was understood at once by the group of jestersstill surrounding the young Goth. They turned, and retired without aninstant's delay. The last of their number had scarcely disappeared,when the same veteran who had spoken with Hermanric, on the departureof Goisvintha the evening before, entered and thus addressed him:--

  'You are commanded to post yourself with the division that now awaitsyou, at a place eastward of your present position, which will be shownyou by a guide. Make ready at once--you have not an instant to delay.'

  As the words passed the old man's lips, Hermanric turned and looked onGoisvintha. During the presence of the Goths in the tent, she had satlistening to their rough jeers in suppressed wrath and speechlessdisdain; now she rose and advanced a few steps. But there suddenlyappeared an unwonted hesitation in her gait; her face was pale; shebreathed fast and heavily. 'Where will you shelter her now?' shecried, addressing Hermanric, and threatening the girl with heroutstretched hands. 'Abandon her to your companions, or leave her tome; she is lost either way! I shall triumph--triumph!'--

  At this moment her voice sank to an unintelligible murmur; she totteredwhere she stood. It was evident that the long strife of passionsduring her past night of watching, and the fierce and varying emotionsof the morning, suddenly brought to a crisis, as they had been, by herexultation when she heard the old warrior's fatal message, had atlength overtasked the energies even of her powerful frame. Yet onemoment more she endeavoured to advance, to speak, to snatch the huntingknife from Hermanric's hand; the next she fell insensible at his feet.

  Goaded almost to madness by the successive trials that he hadundergone; Goisvintha's furious determination to thwart him, stillpresent to his mind; the scornful words of his companions yet ringingin his ears; his inexorable duties demanding his attention withoutreserve or delay; Hermanric succumbed at last under the difficulties ofhis position, and despairingly abandoned all further hope of effectingthe girl's preservation. Pointing to some food that lay in a corner ofthe tent, and to the country behind, he said to her, in broken andgloomy accents, 'Furnish yourself with those provisions, and fly, whileGoisvintha is yet unable to pursue you. I can protect you no longer!'

  Until this moment, Antonina had kept her face hidden, and had remainedstill crouching on the ground; motionless, save when a shudder ranthrough her frame as she listened to the loud, coarse jesting of theGoths; and speechless, except that when Goisvintha sank senseless tothe earth, she uttered an exclamation of terror. But now, when sheheard the sentence of her banishment proclaimed by the very lips whichbut the evening before had assured her of shelter and protection, sherose up instantly, cast on the young Goth a glance of such speechlessmisery and despair, that he involuntarily quailed before it; and then,without a tear or a sigh, without a look of reproach, or a word ofentreaty, petrified and bowed down beneath a perfect trance of terrorand grief, she left the tent.

  Hurrying his actions with the reckless energy of a man determined onbanishing his thoughts by his employments, Hermanric placed himself atthe head of his troop, and marched quickly onwards in an eastwarddirection past the Pincian Gate. Two of his attendants who happened toenter the tent after his departure, observing Goisvintha still extendedon the earth, proceeded to transport her to part of the camp occupiedby the women who were attached to the army; and then, the littlesheltering canopy which made the abode of the Goth, and which hadwitnessed so large a share of human misery and so fierce a war of humancontention in so few hours, was
left as silent and lonely as thedeserted country in which Antonina was now fated to seek a refuge and ahome.