The Scarlet Banner Part 40

"Woe to thee! I mourn, I mourn!

Woe to thee, O Vandal race!

Soon forgot, will be thy name, Which the world, a tempest, swept.

"Gloriously didst thou arise From the sea,--a meteor.

Fame and radiance lost for aye, Thou wilt sink in blackest night.

"All the earth's rich treasures heaped Genseric in Carthage fair.

Starving beggar with the foe, Now for bread his grandson pleads.

"Let thy heroes strengthen me; G.o.d's wrath on thee resteth sore; Leave fame and honor to the Goths, To the Franks:--they are but toys."

"I will not listen; I will not bear it," cried Hilda. "He shall not revile all that makes life worth living."

Nearer, more distinctly, sounded the slow, mournful notes.

"Vanity and sin are all Thou hast cherished, Vandal race; Therefore G.o.d hath stricken thee, Therefore bowed thy head in shame.

"Bow thee, bow thee to the dust, Bruised race of Genseric; Kiss the rod in grat.i.tude.

It is G.o.d the Lord Who smites."

The dirge died away. The royal singer ascended with tottering steps the half-ruined stairs of the basilica, his harp hanging loosely from his left arm. Now he stood between the gray, mouldering pillars of the entrance, and, laying his right arm against the cold stone, pressed his weary head upon it.

Just at that moment a young Moor came hurrying up the steps; a few bounds brought him to the top. Gibamund and Hilda went toward him in astonishment.

"It is long since I have seen you move so swiftly, Sersaon," said Gibamund.

"Your eyes are sparkling," cried Hilda. "You bring good tidings."

The King raised his head from the pillar and, shaking it sorrowfully, looked at the Moor.

"Yes, wise Queen," replied the latter. "The best of tidings: Rescue!"

"Impossible!" said Gelimer, in a hollow tone.

"It is true, my master. Here, Verus will confirm it."

With a slow step, but unbroken strength, the priest ascended the mountain-top. He seemed rather to be prouder, more powerful than in the days of happiness; he held his head haughtily erect. In his hand he carried an arrow and a strip of papyrus.

"To-night," the young Moor went on, "I had the watch at our farthest point toward the south. At the earliest glimmer of dawn, I heard the call of the ostrich: I thought it a delusion, for the bird never ascends to such a height, and this is not the mating season. But this call is our concerted signal with our allies among the Southern tribes, the Soloes. I listened, I watched keenly; yes, yonder, pressing close against the yellowish-brown cliff, so motionless that he could scarcely be distinguished from the rock, crouched a Soloe. I softly answered the call; instantly an arrow flew to the earth close beside me,--a headless arrow, into whose hollow shaft, instead of the tip, this strip had been forced. I drew it out; I cannot read, but I took it to the nearest Vandals. Two of them read it and rejoiced greatly. Verus happened to pa.s.s by; he wanted to tear the papyrus, wished to forbid our speaking of it to you, but hunger, the hope of rescue, are stronger than his words--"

"I thought it treachery, a snare; it is too improbable," interrupted Verus.

Gibamund s.n.a.t.c.hed the strip and read: "The path descending southward, where the ostrich called, is unguarded; it is supposed to be impa.s.sable. Climb down singly to-morrow at midnight; we will wait close by with fresh horses. Theudis, King of the Visigoths, has sent us gold to save you, and a little s.h.i.+p. It is lying near the coast. Hasten."

"There is still fidelity. There are still friends in need!" cried Hilda, exultingly, throwing herself with tears of joy, on her husband's breast.

The King's bowed figure straightened; his eyes lost their dull, hopeless expression.

"Now you see how wicked it would have been to seek death. This is the finger which G.o.d's mercy extends to us. Let us grasp it."

CHAPTER XX

Verus, in order to make the enemy wholly unsuspicious, offered to propose to Fara an interview with Gelimer at noon the following day, on the northern slope of the mountain, in which the last offers of Belisarius should be again discussed. After some scruples of conscience, the King consented to this stratagem of war. Verus reported that Fara was very much pleased with his communication, and would await Gelimer on the following day. Nevertheless, the besieged band kept a sharp watch upon the besiegers' outposts and camp--the high mountain-top afforded a foil view of their position--to note any movement in the direction of the descent which might indicate the discovery of the intended flight or the Soloe hiding-place at the foot of the mountain. Nothing of the sort was apparent; the foemen below spent the day in the usual manner. The guards were not strengthened, and after darkness closed in, the watchfires were neither increased nor changed. At nightfall the besiegers also lighted their fires on the northern side in the same places as before.

Shortly before midnight the little procession began its march. The Moors, who were familiar with the way, went first provided with ropes and iron braces. At every step the fugitives were obliged to feel their way cautiously with the handles of their spears, testing the smooth, crumbling surface of the rock to try whether it would afford a firm foothold. Next followed Gibamund and Hilda; the Princess had folded Genseric's great banner closely and tied it about the pole, which she used as a staff; then came Gelimer, behind him Verus and the small remaining band of Vandals. So they moved for about half an hour along the summit of the mountain, until they reached the southern side, down which the narrow path led. Each step was perilous to life; for they dared not light torches.

As the little group began the descent, Gelimer turned. "Oh, Verus," he whispered, "death may be very near to us all. Repeat a prayer--where is Verus?"

"He hastened back some time ago," replied Markomer. "He wished to bring a relic he had forgot. He bade us go on, saying that he would overtake us at the next turn in the road before we descended the ravine."

The King hesitated, and began to murmur the Lord's Prayer.

"Forward!" whispered Sersaon, the leading Moor. "There is no more time to lose. We need only pa.s.s quickly around the next projecting rock--Ha!

Torches, treason! Back to--"

He could say no more; an arrow transfixed his throat. Torches glared with a dazzling light into the eyes of the fugitives just as they turned the jutting cliff. Weapons flashed, and before the ranks of the Herulians stood a man holding aloft a torch to light the group.

"There, the second one is the King," he cried. "Capture him alive." He took a step forward.

"Verus!" shrieked Gelimer, falling back unconscious. Two Vandals caught him and bore him up the height.

"On! Storm the mountain!" Fara ordered below. But it was impossible to storm a height which could be climbed only by clinging with both hands to the perpendicular cliff. Fara himself instantly perceived it when, by the torchlight, he beheld the path and saw Gibamund standing with levelled spear on the last broader ledge of rock which afforded a firm footing.

"It is a pity!" he shouted. "But now this loophole will henceforth be barred also. Surrender!"

"Never!" cried Gibamund, hurling his spear. The man by Fara's side fell.

"Shoot! Quickly! All at once!" the Herulian leader angrily commanded.

Behind the Herulians were twenty archers, dismounted Huns. Their bows tw.a.n.ged; Gibamund sank silently backward. Hilda, with a cry of anguish, caught him in her arms.

But Markomer, raising his lance threateningly, already stood in the place of the fallen man.

"Cease," Fara ordered. "But keep the outlet strongly guarded. The priest said that they must yield either to-morrow or on the following day."

Gelimer was roused from his unconsciousness by Hilda's shriek.

"Now Gibamund, too, has fallen," he said very calmly. "All is over."

Supported by his spear, he climbed wearily back. A few Vandals followed him. He vanished in the darkness of the night.

Hilda sat silent with the head of her lifeless husband in her lap, and the staff of the banner resting on her shoulder. She had no tears, but groped in the thick gloom for the beloved face. At last she heard a Vandal, returning from the King, say to Markomer:

"This was the final blow. To-morrow--I am to announce it to the enemy--Gelimer will submit."