Volume Ii Part 72 (2/2)

Suddenly a strong blast of wind rose from the sea. It drove the black cloud toward the north with great rapidity. It now hung dense and heavy over the city. But the sea and the south-eastern horizon were not thereby rendered clear, for a second and similar wall of cloud closely followed the first.

The whole sky had now become one black vault.

Hildebad, drowsy with wine, went towards his night-watch at the Porta Honorii.

”Still at thy post, Fridugern?” he called to the young Goth in pa.s.sing.

”And still no rain. The poor earth, how thirsty it will be! I pity it!

Goodnight!”

It was insufferably sultry in the houses, for the wind blew from the scorching deserts of Africa.

The people, alarmed by the threatening appearance of the heavens, came out of doors, walking in companies through the streets, or sitting in groups in the courtyards and under the colonnades of the churches.

A crowd of people sat upon the steps of Saint Apollonaris.

And, though the sun had scarcely set, it was already as black as night.

Upon her couch in her bed-chamber lay Mataswintha, the Queen, in a kind of heavy stupor, her cheeks pale as death. Her wide open eyes stared into the darkness. She refused to answer Aspa's anxious questions, and presently dismissed the weeping slave with a motion of her hand.

As she lay thinking, these names pa.s.sed continuously and monotonously through her mind: Witichis--Rauthgundis--Mataswintha!

Mataswintha--Rauthgundis--Witichis!

Thus she lay for a long, long time; and it seemed as if nothing could ever interrupt the unceasing circle of these words.

Suddenly a red light flashed into the room, and at the same moment a peal of thunder, louder than she had ever before heard, clattered over the trembling city.

A scream from her women caught her ear, and she started upright on her couch.

Aspa had divested her of her upper garment; she wore only her under-dress of white silk. Throwing the falling tresses of her splendid hair back over her shoulder, she leaned on her elbow and listened.

There was an awful stillness.

Then another flash and another peal.

A rush of wind tore open the window of feldspath which looked into the court.

Mataswintha stared out at the darkness, which was illuminated at every moment by a vivid flash of lightning. The thunder rolled incessantly, overpowering even the fearful howling of the wind.

Mataswintha felt relieved by this strife of the elements. She looked out eagerly.

Just then Aspa hurried in with a light. It was a torch, the flame of which was protected from the wind by a gla.s.s globe.

”Queen, thou--but, by all the G.o.ds! how dost thou look? Like a Lemure--like the G.o.ddess of Revenge!”

”Would that I were!” said Mataswintha, without taking her eyes from the window.

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