The Scarlet Banner Part 16

"Leave them where they are! Feed them!"

"And the Moorish prisoner?"

He could not answer; for while the racehorses, the stallion among them, were being led from the Circus into the square between it and the Amphitheatre, loud shouts rang from the exits of the latter.

"The Moor! The captive! He has escaped! He is running away! Stop him!"

Thrasaric turned, and saw the figure of the young Moor coming toward him. He had been bound hand and foot, and though successful in breaking the rope around his ankles, he had been unable to sever the one firmly fastened about his wrists, and was greatly impeded in forcing a way through the crowd by his inability to use his hands.

"Let him go! Let him run!" ordered Thrasaric.

"No," shouted the pursuers. "He has just knocked his master down by a blow of his fist. His master commanded it! He must die! A thousand sestertii to the man who captures him."

Stones flew, and here and there a spear whizzed by.

"A thousand sestertii?" cried one Roman to another. "Friend Victor, let us forget our quarrel and earn them together."

"Done. Halves, O Laurus!"

The fugitive now darted like an arrow straight toward Thrasaric. His lithe, n.o.ble figure came nearer and nearer. Lofty wrath glowed on the finely moulded young face. Then, close beside Thrasaric, Laurus grasped at the rope hanging from the Moor's wrists. A violent jerk, the youth fell. Victor grasped his arm.

"The thousand sestertii are ours," cried Laurus, drawing the rope toward him.

"No," exclaimed Thrasaric, s.n.a.t.c.hing his short-sword from its sheath.

The weapon flashed through the cord. "Fly, Moor!"

The youth was instantly on his feet again; one grateful glance at the Vandal, and he was in the midst of the race-horses.

"Oh, the stallion! My stallion!" shouted Modigisel. But the Moor was already on the back of the magnificent animal. A word in its ear, the horse sprang forward, the crowd scattered shrieking, and already Styx and his rider were flying over the road to Numidia in the sheltering darkness of the night.

"The stallion," muttered Modigisel. "That will cost me the casting of the dice for the young wife."

Thrasaric gazed after the horse in amazement. "O G.o.d, I thank Thee! I will deserve it; I will atone. Come, little one. To the King! He seems to need me."

Meanwhile the n.o.bles and their followers had pressed forward threateningly against the King, who did not yield a step.

"We will not be ruled by you," cried Gundomar.

"We will not be forbidden to enjoy the pleasures of life!" exclaimed Modigisel. "To-morrow, whether you are willing or not, I will invite my friends. We will meet again in this arena."

"No, you will not," said the King, quietly, and taking the torch from the hand of the nearest slave he rose in his stirrups, and, with a sure aim, hurled it high over the heads of the crowd into the silk tent, which instantly caught fire and blazed up brightly. Loud roars came from the cages of the wild beasts.

"Do you dare?" shrieked Gundobad. "This house is not yours. It belongs to the Vandal nation! How dare you destroy their pleasures, merely because you do not share them?"

"And why do you not share them?" added Gundomar. "Because you are no true man, no real Vandal."

"An enthusiast--no king of a race of heroes!"

"Why do you so often tremble?"

"Who knows whether some secret sin does not burden you?"

"Who knows whether your courage will not fail when danger--"

Just at that moment, drowning every other sound, a shrill shriek of horror, of mortal fear, rang from many hundred throats; a short, exulting roar could scarcely be heard through the tumult. "The tiger!

The tiger is free!" rose from the arena.

And rushing thence in a dense crowd, frantic with terror, came men, women, and children, all struggling together. Everywhere they met other throngs, and, unable to go farther, jostled, pushed, stumbled, fell, and were trampled under foot.

Above them, on the first story of the Amphitheatre, directly opposite to the King, the broken chain trailing from its collar, crouched the huge tiger, lashing his flanks with his tail, his jaws wide open, hesitating between the spur of his fierce hunger and the fear of the torches and human beings. At last hunger conquered. The beast's eyes had rested upon one of the race-horses in front of the Amphitheatre, and lingered on it as though spellbound. A throng of people surged between the animal and its prey. The leap was almost beyond its powers; but greed urged on the monster and, with a low cry, it sprang over the heads of the mult.i.tude upon its chosen victim.

All the shrieking people pressed in the same direction. The horses shied; the tiger's leap fell short; he reached the ground scarcely two feet from the racer, which broke its halter and dashed away. The tiger never repeats a spring it has missed. Hasdrubal was shrinking back, as if ashamed; but as he stretched out his right fore-paw, it fell upon warm, soft, living flesh. A child, a little girl about four years old, in the gay, spangled dress of a Love, had been torn from the side of her mother and thrown down by the fugitives. There she was, lying on her face in the soft gra.s.s, the delicate rosy flesh between her head and shoulders rising above her little white dress. The tiger thrust his paw forward and held the child down by the neck--but only for an instant. Suddenly he drew back the length of his body, uttering a roar whose fury far exceeded any previous one, for an enemy advancing on foot dared to dispute possession of his prey. The great cat gathered himself to leap, the terrible leap which must overthrow any man. But before the beast could straighten himself for the bound, his adversary thrust a Vandal sword between the yawning jaws to the very hilt, and pierced the spine.

Carried down by the impetus of the blow, the man fell for a moment on the dead tiger; but he instantly sprang up, stepped back, and lifted the stupefied child from the ground.

"Gelimer! Hail to King Gelimer! Hail to the hero!" shouted the crowd.

Even the Romans joined in the acclamation. "Are you unharmed, O King?"

asked Thrasaric.

"As the child," said the latter, calmly, placing the little one in the arms of its weeping, trembling mother, who kissed the hem of the white royal mantle, stained with the wild beast's blood.

Gelimer wiped his sword-blade on the tiger's soft skin and thrust it into the sheath. Then he went back to his horse and stood drawn up to his full height, leaning against its shoulder, his helmeted head held proudly erect. He had retained as king the old helmet with the wings of the black vulture (they seemed now to stir in menace), and merely added Genseric's pointed crown. A look of sorrowful contempt rested on the throng; Deep silence reigned for the moment; speech failed even the boldest of the n.o.bles.

CHAPTER XVIII

The King's brothers, at the head of their hors.e.m.e.n, now entered the square; they had witnessed the horrible incident from their saddles.

Springing to the ground, they pa.s.sionately clasped Gelimer's hands.

"What troubles you, brother?" asked Gibamund. "That is not the glance of the rescuer."

"O my brother," sighed Gelimer, "pity me! I feel a loathing for my people; and that is hard."

"Yes, for it is the best thing we possess," replied Zazo, gravely.

"On earth," answered the King, thoughtfully. "Yet is it not a sin to love even this earthly thing so ardently? All earthly possessions are but vanity. Is it not true of our people and our native land?--" He sank into a deep reverie.

"Wake, King Gelimer!" called a voice from the throng in friendly warning.

It was Thrasaric. The sudden change had roused his wonder. He, too, had turned to meet the tiger, but the King, who, from his seat on horseback, had seen the animal crouching to spring, antic.i.p.ated him.

Him--and another.

The older of the two foreigners had stood still, his spear poised to hurl.

"That was a good thrust, Theudigisel," he whispered. "But let us see how it will end. This King is losing the best moment."

And so it seemed. For meanwhile the n.o.bles had somewhat recovered from their confusion, and, though no longer quite so insolently as before, but still defiantly enough, Gundomar stepped forward, saying: "You are a hero, O King! It was ungrateful to doubt it, but you are not easy to understand, yet we neither will nor can serve and obey even a hero as our ancestors, Genseric's bears, served him."