Volume Ii Part 18 (1/2)

”They a.s.sembled yesterday at Regeta,” Totila began again. ”Theodahad is deposed, and Earl Witichis----”

The portcullis was slowly raised, and Totila was just about to give his horse the spur, when a woman rushed from the row of soldiers, and cast herself before the animal's hoofs.

”Fly!” she cried. ”The enemy is before you! the city is taken!”

But she could not finish; a lance penetrated her heart.

”Miriam!” cried Totila, horrified, and checked his horse.

But Thoris.m.u.th, who was close behind, and who had long been suspicious, now reached his arm past the grating, and separated the rope which held the portcullis up with his sword, so that the portcullis fell with a loud crash just in front of Totila.

A hail of spears and arrows flew through the portcullis.

”Up with the portcullis!” cried Johannes from within. ”Out! Upon them!”

But Totila did not move.

”Miriam! Miriam!” he cried in great grief.

Once more she opened her eyes, with a dying look of love and pain. That look told everything; it pierced Totila's heart.

”For thee!” she sighed, and fell back.

He forgot Neapolis, danger, and death.

”Miriam!” he cried again, and stretched out both his hands.

An arrow touched his horse's flank; the n.o.ble animal reared. The portcullis began to rise. Thoris.m.u.th caught Totila's bridle, wrenched his horse round, and gave it such a stroke with the flat of his sword, that it galloped away like the wind.

”Up and away, sir!” he cried, rus.h.i.+ng after Totila. ”They must be speedy who would overtake us!”

And the riders flew back on the Via Capuana, the way that they had come. Not far behind followed Johannes, ignorant of the way, and confused by the darkness of the night.

Totila's party presently met with the garrison of the Castle of Aurelian, which was marching towards Neapolis.

They all halted together upon a hill, whence they could see the city and the ramparts, partially illuminated by the Byzantine watch-fires on the walls.

Only then did Totila recover from his grief and consternation.

”Farewell, Miriam!” he sighed. ”Farewell, Uliaris! Neapolis, I shall see thee again!”

And he gave orders to march forward to Rome.

But from this hour a shadow fell upon the soul of the young Goth.

Miriam, with the holy right of suffering, had buried herself in his heart for ever.

When Johannes returned from his fruitless pursuit, and sprang from his horse, he cried in a furious voice: ”Where is the girl who warned him?

Throw her to the dogs!” And he hurried away to Belisarius, to report the mishap.