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The Amphitheatre had a subterranean connection with the adjacent lake.
From the grated cellars, concealed by curtains, the mingled cries of various animals greeted the entering spectators. Often the snarls and yells partially died away, and a mighty, ominous howl, or rather roar, rose from the farthest cellar, dominating the voices of the smaller beasts, which sank into silence, as if from fear.
"Are you afraid, my little bird?" asked Thrasaric, who was leading his bride by the hand. "You are trembling."
"Not of the tiger," she answered.
When the seats of honor were occupied, Thrasabad again appeared before them, and, bowing, said: "The Roman emperors long ago prohibited contests between gladiators and fights between animals. But we are not Romans. True, our own kings--especially our present sovereign, King Gelimer--repeated the command--"
"If he should hear of this!" interrupted Thrasaric, in a tone of warning.
"Pshaw! He is not expected here until tomorrow morning. Even if he returns sooner--he is now staying in the Capitol; it is two full leagues distant. The noise of the festival will not reach there for a long time; and we shall not tell him to-morrow."
"And the gladiators?"
"Nor they either. Dead men do not gossip. We will keep them fighting until none are left to betray us."
"Brother, that is almost too--Roman!"
"Ah, only the Romans knew how to live; our bear-like ancestors, at the utmost, only how to die. Do you suppose I have studied merely the _verses_ of the Romans? No, I boast of vying with them in their customs. Speak, Gundomar; shall we fear King Gelimer?"
"We Vandal n.o.bles will allow ourselves to be denied nothing that gives us pleasure. Let him try to keep us away from here!"
"And at my brother's wedding an exception is permitted, nay, required.
So I will feast your eyes with old Roman 'hunts' and old Roman gladiatorial combats."
Roars of applause greeted this announcement. Thrasabad disappeared to give his orders.
"It is easy to say where he obtained the animals," remarked Gundomar.
"Africa is their breeding-ground. But the gladiators?"
"He told me the secret," replied Modigisel. "Some are slaves; some are Moors captured in the last expedition. The white sand of the arena will soon be stained crimson."
"How I shall rejoice!" panted Astarte, who rarely spoke. Modigisel looked at her with an expression almost of horror.
"Gladiators!" cried Thrasaric, wrathfully. "Eugenia, do you want to go away?"
"I will shut my eyes--and stay. Only let me remain with you! Do not send me from you--I beseech!"
The roll of drums was heard, and a cry of astonishment from thousands of voices filled the Amphitheatre. The arena suddenly divided, moving to the right and left, in two semi-circles which, drawn sideways, disappeared in the walls. Twenty feet below, a second s.p.a.ce, covered with sand, appeared, and over this poured from every direction, foaming and das.h.i.+ng, a flood of seething water. The bottom was swiftly transformed into a lake. Then two wide gateways at the right and left opened, and toward each other swept, fully manned and equipped for battle, two stately war-s.h.i.+ps with lofty masts. These vessels, it is true, carried no sails, for there was no wind in the walled enclosure, but they were supplied with archers and slingers.
"Aha! a naumachia! A naval battle! Capital! Glorious!" shouted the spectators.
"Look, a Byzantine trireme!"
"And a Vandal corsair s.h.i.+p! How the scarlet flag glows!"
"And above it, at the mast-head, the golden dragon."
"The Vandal is attacking! Where are the rowers?"
"Out of sight. They are working under the deck. But above--look, in front, on the prow, stand the crew with spears and axes uplifted!"
"See, the Byzantine is going to ram. He is das.h.i.+ng forward with tremendous force."
"Look at the sharp spur close to the water line!"
"But the Vandal is turning swiftly. The s.h.i.+p has escaped the shock. Now the spears are flying."
"There! A Roman falls on the deck. He doesn't stir."
"A second is flung overboard. He is still swimming--"
"He is throwing his arms out of the water--"
"There he sinks."
"The water around him is stained with blood," said Astarte, bending eagerly forward.
"Let me go! oh, let me go, and come with me!" pleaded Eugenia.
"Child, not now; you must stay now. I must see this," replied Thrasaric.
"Now the Vandal is alongside of the Byzantine."
"They are leaping across--our men. How their fair locks fly! Victory, victory to the Vandals!"
"Why, Thrasaric! They are only slaves in disguise."
"No matter! They bear our flag. Victory, victory to the Vandals! But look, there is a terrible hand-to-hand conflict--man to man! How the s.h.i.+elds cras.h.!.+ How the axes glitter! Alas! the Vandal leader is falling! Oh, if I were only on that accursed Roman s.h.i.+p!"
"There! Another Vandal falls! More Romans are coming up from the lower deck. Alas! That is treachery!"
"The Romans have the superior force. Two more Vandals have fallen."
"They lured our men on board by stratagem."
"Brother! Thrasabad! Where are you?"
"On a boat over yonder, beside the two s.h.i.+ps," cried Glauke, full of terror.
"It is no use! The Vandals are overpowered; they are leaping into the water!"
"The others on the Roman s.h.i.+p are bound."
"The Romans are throwing fire into our s.h.i.+p. It is burning!"
"The mast is blazing brightly."
"The helmsman and rowers are jumping overboard."