Volume Ii Part 37 (1/2)

The heavy axe crashed upon the glittering helmet of the brave defender of the bridge, who fell as if struck by lightning.

Two men sprang towards him and raised his visor.

”Master Hildebrand,” cried Aligern in astonishment, ”it is no Byzantine!”

”And no Italian!” added Gunthamund.

”Look at his golden locks--it is a Goth!” observed Hunibad.

Hildebrand came forward--and started violently.

”Torches!” he cried; ”light! Yes,” he added gloomily, taking up his stone axe, ”it is a Goth! And I--I have slain him,” he concluded, with icy calmness.

But his hand trembled on the shaft of his axe.

”No, master,” cried Aligern, ”he lives. He was only stunned; he opens his eyes.”

”He lives?” asked the old man, shuddering. ”May the G.o.ds forbid!”

”Yes, he lives!” repeated the Goths, raising their prisoner.

”Then woe to him, and to me! But no! The G.o.ds of the Goths have delivered him into my power. Bind him upon thy horse, Gunthamund; but firmly. If he escape, it is at the peril of _thy_ head, not his.

Forward! To horse, and home!”

When they arrived at the camp, the escort asked the master-at-arms what they should prepare for their prisoner.

”A bundle of straw for to-night,” he answered, ”and for to-morrow early--a gallows.”

With these words he entered the King's tent, and reported the result of his excursion.

”We have a Gothic deserter among our prisoners,” he concluded grimly.

”He must hang before sunset to-morrow.”

”That is very sad,” said Witichis, sighing.

”Yes; but necessary. I shall summon the court-martial for to-morrow.

Wilt thou preside?”

”No,” said Witichis, ”exempt me from that. I will appoint Hildebad in my place.”

”No,” cried the old man, ”that will not do. I am commander-in-chief as long as thou keepest thy tent. I demand the presidency as my right.”

Witichis looked at him.

”Thou art so grim and cold! Is it an enemy of thy kindred?”

”No,” said Hildebrand.