A Struggle For Rome Volume Ii Part 72

In the south, however, the sun shone with an intolerable heat from a cloudless sky.

The Gothic sentries had doffed their helmets and armour; they preferred to expose themselves to the arrows of the enemy rather than suffer the unbearable heat.

There was not a breath of air. The east wind, which had brought up the wall of cloud, had dropped again.

The sea was grey and motionless; not a leaf of the poplars in the palace garden moved.

The animal world, silent the day before, was uneasy and terrified. Over the hot sands on the sh.o.r.e swallows, seagulls, and marsh-birds fluttered hither and thither, without cause or aim, flying low above the ground, and often uttering shrill cries.

In the city the dogs ran whining out of the houses; the horses tore themselves loose from their halters and, snorting impatiently, kicked and pranced; cats, a.s.ses, and mules uttered lamentable cries; and three of the dromedaries belonging to Belisarius killed themselves in their frantic efforts to get loose.

Evening was approaching. The sun was about to sink below the horizon.

In the Forum of Hercules a citizen was sitting upon the marble steps of his house. He was a vine-dresser, and, as the dry branch hung at his door indicated, himself sold the produce of his vines. He glanced at the threatening thundercloud.

"I wish it would rain," he sighed. "If it does not rain, it will hail, and then all the fruit that has not been trampled by the enemy's horses will be completely destroyed."

"Do you call the troops of our Emperor enemies?" whispered his son, a Roman patriot. But he said it very softly, for just then a Gothic patrol turned the corner of the Forum. "I wish Orcus would devour them all, Greeks and barbarians! The Goths at least are always thirsty. See, there comes that long Hildebadus; he is one of the thirstiest. I shall be surprised if he has no desire to drink to-day, when the very stones are cracking with heat!"

Hildebad had just set the nearest watch. He held his helmet in his left hand; his lance was carelessly laid across his shoulder.

He pa.s.sed the wine-house--to the great astonishment of its owner--turned into the next street, and soon stood before a lofty ma.s.sive round tower--it was called the Tower of aetius.

A handsome young Goth was walking up and down upon the wall in the shadow of the tower. Long light locks curled upon his shoulders, and the delicate white and red of his complexion, as well as his mild blue eyes, gave him almost a girlish aspect.

"Hey! Fridugern," Hildebad called up to him. "Hey! How canst thou bear to stay up there on that gridiron? With shield and breastplate too!

_Ouff_!"

"I have the watch, Hildebad," answered the youth gently.

"Bother the watch! Dost thou think that Belisarius will attack us in this blazing heat? I tell you he is glad if he can get air; to-day he will not thirst for blood. Come with me; I came to fetch thee. The fat Ravennese in the Forum of Hercules has old wine and young daughters--let us put both to our lips."

The young Goth shook his long ringlets and frowned.

"I have the watch, and no desire for girls. But thirsty I am, truly--send me a cup of wine up here."

"Aha! 'tis true, by Freia, Venus, and Maria! Thou hast a bride across the mountains! And thou thinkest that she will find it out and break her promise if thou lookest too closely into a pair of black Roman eyes! Oh, dear friend, how young thou art! No, no; no malice! It is all right. Thou art nevertheless a very good fellow and wilt get older by-and-by. I will send thee some old Ma.s.sikian--then thou canst drink to Allgunthis all alone."

Hildebad turned back, and soon disappeared into the wine-house.

Presently a slave brought a cup of wine to the young Goth, who whispered, "Here's to thee, Allgunthis!" and he emptied it at one draught. Then he took up his lance, and slowly paced to and fro on the wall.

"I can at least think of her," he said; "no duty can prevent that. When shall I see her again?"

He walked on, but presently stopped and stood, lost in thought, in the shadow of the great dark tower, which looked down upon him threateningly.

In a short time another troop of Goths pa.s.sed the tower. In their midst they led a man blindfolded, and let him out at the Porta Honorii.

It was Procopius who had in vain waited for three hours, hoping that the King would change his mind. It was useless. No messenger came, and the amba.s.sador left the city ill at ease.

Another hour pa.s.sed. It had become darker, but not cooler.

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.