Part 20 (1/2)

CHAPTER XX

”I know those tones,” said Gelimer, anxiously, turning toward the entrance.

”Yes; it is our boy,” cried Gibamund. ”He seems very angry.”

Even as he spoke young Ammata rushed in, dragging with him by his short hair and the open neck of his robe a lad considerably larger, clad in a richly ornamented tunic, who struggled vainly as the other jerked him with both hands through the entrance, which was closed only by a curtain. The dark eyes, clear-cut features, and round, short head of Ammata's foe indicated his Roman lineage.

”What is it, Ammata?”

”What has happened, Publius Pudentius?”

”No, no! I won't let you go,” shouted the Vandal prince. ”You shall repeat it in the presence of the King! And the King shall give you the lie! Listen, brother! We were playing in the vestibule; we were wrestling together. I threw him. He rose angrily, and, grinding his teeth, said, 'That doesn't count. The devil, the demon of your race, helped you.'

”'Who?' I asked.

”'Why, that Genseric, the son of Orcus. You Asdings boast of your descent from pagan G.o.ds; but these, so the priest taught us, were demons. That is the reason of his luck, his victories.'

”I laughed, but he went on: 'He said so himself. Once, when Genseric left the harbor of Carthage on his corsair s.h.i.+p and the helmsman asked where he should turn the prow, the wicked tyrant answered: ”Let us drift with the wind and waves toward whomsoever G.o.d's anger is directed against.”' Is that true, brother?”

”Yes, it is true!” retorted the young Roman. ”And it is also true that Genseric was as cruel as a demon to the defenceless and the prisoners.

From rage because he was defeated in an attack upon Taenarus he landed at Zacynthus, dragged away as captives five hundred n.o.ble men and women, and, when out at sea, ordered them the whole five hundred--to be hacked into pieces from the feet upward, and flung into the waves.”

”Brother, surely this is not true?” cried Ammata, pus.h.i.+ng back his waving locks from his flushed face. ”What? You are silent? You turn away? You cannot--”

”No, he cannot deny it,” cried Pudentius, defiantly. ”Do you see how pale he turns? Genseric was a demon. You have all sprung from h.e.l.l. He and his successors have committed horrible deeds of cruelty upon us Romans, us Catholics! But wait! It will not remain unpunished. As surely as there is a G.o.d in Heaven! This curse of sin rests upon you.

What do the Scriptures say? 'I will visit the sins of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation.'”

A hollow groan escaped the lips of the King. He tottered, sank upon the couch, and covered his face with the folds of his purple mantle. Ammata gazed at him in terror. Hilda hastily pushed him and the young Roman away.

”Go!” she whispered. ”Make friends with each other; you must stop quarrelling. What have you boys to do with such things? Make friends, I say.” Ammata held out his right hand pleasantly; the Roman clasped it slowly, angrily.

”Look,” said Ammata, stooping, ”how lucky!” He lifted from the floor the bit of brownish-red cord, to which the little wax seal hung.

”Yes, indeed,” exclaimed Pudentius, in surprise; ”the same seal that Verus would not give us for our collection of seals and impressions.”

”It is very odd,--a scorpion surrounded by flames.”

”Last week, when I saw the open letter lying on his table with the seal and cord, how I begged him for it!”

”He struck my fingers when I seized it.”

”I wondered why it should be so valuable.”

”And to-day we find it thrown away, on the floor.”

”He might have given it to us, then, after the letter was opened.”

”He do a kind act? He looks as though he came straight from the nether world.”

”Come, let us go.”