by Felix Dahn
CHAPTER XXIV
Hilda flew to the threshold to meet her husband, and the young coupletenderly embraced.
"Are you alone?" asked Gibamund, glancing around him. "I thought I sawyour little antelope at the window."
Hilda pointed silently to the curtains at the door of the adjoiningroom; her husband nodded. "You will have a visitor presently," he said,raising his voice. "Thrasaric wishes to speak to you. He has all sortsof important things to say."
"He will be welcome."
"Have you finished the banner?"
"Oh, yes."
Seizing the pole, she raised the heavy standard aloft; the scarletcloth, more than five feet long and two and a half feet wide, flowed inlong heavy folds around the two slender figures. It was a beautiful,solemn sight.
Gibamund took the banner from her. "I will place it on the battlementsof the loftiest tower, that it may wave a bloody welcome to our foes.Oh, thou choicest jewel, shield of the Vandal fame, Genseric'svictorious standard, never shalt thou fall into the hands of the foe solong as I draw breath!" he cried enthusiastically. "I swear it by thehead of the beloved wife over which thy folds are floating."
"Neither your eyes nor mine shall ever witness that. I, too, swear it,"said Hilda, with deep earnestness, and a slight shiver ran through herlimbs as a gust of wind blew the scarlet cloth closely around hershoulders and breast.
Gibamund kissed the fair brow and the beautiful eyes which were liftedwith a radiant light to his own, and hurried out of the room with thebanner. On the threshold he met Thrasaric. Hilda sat down again besidethe window.
"Welcome, Thrasaric!" she said loudly, as the curtain in the doorway ofthe adjoining room waved to and fro. "I commend you. In full armor! Itsuits you better than--other costumes. I hear that you have been madecommander of many thousand men. You are to fill Zazo's place until hisreturn. What brings you to me?"
These friendly words evidently soothed the embarrassment of the giant,whose face had crimsoned when he entered the apartment. He cast asearching glance around the room, hoping to discover some trace--somearticle of clothing; but he did not find it. His whole soul was burningwith the desire to speak of Eugenia, to ask about her, to learn herfeelings. Yet he so feared to approach the subject. He did not knowwhether his bride had told her friend of his heavy, heavy sin. Hefeared it. Surely it was probable that the Princess had asked the girlthe cause of her terror; and why should Eugenia keep silence? Whyshould she spare him? Had he deserved it? Had not the indignant girl,with the utmost justice, cast him off forever? All these questions,over which he had been pondering, now pressed at once on his bewilderedbrain. He was so bitterly ashamed of himself, he would rather havemarched alone to meet Belisarius's entire army than talk now with thisnoble woman; yet he had boldly encountered harder things. As he made noreply, but merely stood with laboring breath, Hilda repeated thequestion,--
"What brings you to me, Thrasaric?"
He must answer--he saw that. So he replied, but Hilda was almoststartled when he cried loudly, "A horse."
"A horse?" asked the Princess, slowly. "What am I to do with it?"
Thrasaric was glad to be able to speak, and at some length, of subjectsnot connected with Eugenia. So he now answered, quickly and easily: "Toride it."
"Yes," laughed Hilda, "I suppose so! But to whom does the horsebelong?"
"To you. I give it to you. Gibamund has permitted it. He commands youto accept it from me. Do you hear? He commands."
"Well, well! I haven't refused yet. So I thank you cordially. What kindof horse is it?"
"The best one on earth."
The answers now came with the speed of lightning.
"Gibamund and my brother-in-law said that of Cabaon's stallion."
"It is the very horse."
"That belongs to Modigisel."
"Not now."
"Why?"
"Oh, for many reasons. In the first place, it is now yours. Secondly,the animal lately ran away from Modigisel at night, was carried off.Thirdly, Modigisel is dead. And, fourthly, the stallion belongs to me."
These replies had come almost too rapidly. Hilda gazed at him withoutunderstanding.
"Modigisel dead? Incredible!"
"But it is true. And really--except for himself--no great misfortune. Ashort time ago, at night, I helped a young Moorish prisoner to escape.I could not foresee that he would use the horse in doing so. Butafterwards I rejoiced over it, very, very deeply. Early this morning, aMoor, not the fugitive, brought the stallion into my courtyard. The ladI had saved was Sersaon, Cabaon's famous grandson. Cabaon, in hisgratitude, sent me the magnificent horse."
"But must not you return him to Modigisel?"
"Perhaps so. On no account--never, never--would I have kept the animal.I would rather have the devil in my stable; I would rather ride thesteed of hell!"
"Why?"
"Why? Why? You ask why?" cried Thrasaric, joyously. "Then you do notknow?"
"If I knew, I would not ask," said Hilda, calmly.
But she was startled by the effect of these words; the gigantic manthrew himself on his knees before her, pressing her hands till shecould almost have screamed with pain, as he cried: "That is glorious,that is divine!" But the next instant he sprang up again, sayingmournfully, "Alas! This is even worse. Now I must tell her myself.Forgive me. No, I am not mad. Just wait. It is coming.--So I orderedthe horse to be led at once to Modigisel. The slave returnedimmediately with the message that Modigisel was dead."
"Then it is true? The day before yesterday in perfect health! How is itpossible?"
"Astarte, of course. You know nothing about such creatures. Hisfreedwoman and friend; she lived in the next house. It is very strange.The slaves say that after--after returning from the Grove of the HolyVirgin," he stammered the words with downcast eyes, "Modigisel andAstarte had a violent quarrel. That is, she did not make an outcry--shesaid very little; but she demanded for the thousandth time her completefreedom. Modigisel had reserved numerous rights. He refused, shouted,and raged; he is said to have beaten her. But yesterday they madefriends again. Astarte and the Gundings dined with him. After thebanquet they strolled about the garden. Before their eyes Astarte brokefour peaches from a tree. She and the two Gundings ate three of them;Modigisel the fourth. And, after eating it, he dropped dead atAstarte's feet."
"Horrible! Poison?"
"Who dares to say so? The peach grew on the same tree with the others.The Gundings bear witness to it; they do not lie. And the Carthaginianis impenetrably calm, even now."
"You have seen her, have talked with her?"
The powerful warrior flushed crimson: "She came to my house at once,from the dead man. But I--well--she went away again very soon. She washastening to take possession of the villa at Decimum, which Modigiselbequeathed to her long ago."
"What a woman!"
"Nay, no woman,--a monster, but a beautiful one. So the horse remainedin my possession. But I--will not keep the animal. Then I thought thatof all the women of our nation you are the most glorious--I mean, thebest rider. And I believe war will soon break out, and, from what Iknow of you, I believe that nothing will prevent you from going withGibamund to the field."
"There you are right," laughed Hilda, with sparkling eyes.
"Then I begged Gibamund--and so the stallion is yours, do you see? Heis just being led into the courtyard."
"A magnificent creature indeed! I thank you."
"So that is the story of the horse."
He spoke very sorrowfully, for he did not know what to say next.
Hilda came to his assistance.
"And your brother?" she asked.
"Unhappily he has disappeared. I have searched for him everywhere--inhis own villas and mine. There was not a trace. The body of thebeautiful Ionian who--died that night, could not be found either. Therewas no sign of it in the city or country. It is possible that he leftCarthage by ship. So many have gone out of the harbor during these lastfew days, eve
n--" he suddenly turned pale--"even bound for Sicily."
"Yes," said Hilda, carelessly, glancing out of the window. "The horseis a splendid animal."
"She is changing the subject," thought Thrasaric. "Then it is so."
"Several sailed also for Syracuse," he went on, watching her intently.
The Princess leaned from the casement. "Only one, so far as I know,"she replied indifferently.
"Then it is true," cried the Vandal, suddenly, in despair. "She hasgone. She has gone to her father in Syracuse. She has deserted meforever! O Eugenia! Eugenia!" Pressing his arm against the window-framein bitter anguish, he laid his face on it.
So he did not see how violently the curtains at the door of the nextroom swayed to and fro.
"O Princess," he cried, controlling himself, "it is only just. I oughtnot to blame you, I must praise you for having snatched her from myarms on that wild night. Nor can I condemn her for casting me off. No,do not try to comfort me. I know I am not worthy of her. It is my ownfault. Yet not mine alone; the women--that is, the maidens of ournation--are also to blame. Do you look at me in wonder? Well, then,Hilda, have you taken a single Vandal girl to your heart as a friend?Eugenia, the Greek, the child of a plain citizen, is far more to youthan the wives and daughters of our nobles. I will not say--far be itfrom me--that the Vandal women are as corrupt and degenerate as, alas,most of us men. Certainly not! But under this sky, in threegenerations, they, too, have deteriorated. Gold, finery, luxury, andagain gold, fill their souls. They long for wealth, for boundlesspleasure, almost like the Romans. Their souls have grown feeble. No oneunderstands or shares Hilda's enthusiasm."
"Yes, they are vain and shallow," said the Princess, sadly.
"Is it any wonder, then, that we men do not seek to wed thesepretentious dolls? Because I am rich, fathers and, still more, eager,anxious mothers, and even--well, I will not say it! In short, I mighthave married many dozen Vandal girls, had I desired to do so. But Isaid, no. I loved no one of them. I cared only for this child, thislittle Greek. Her I love ardently, from the very depths of my soul, andfaithfully too. For my whole life!"
Hilda's glance darted over him from her high seat to the swayingcurtains.
"And now--now, I love even more than ever the pearl I have lost. Shehonors the love she once felt for me by sparing the unworthy man. Shehas not told you the wrong I did her, the crime I committed. But--" hestraightened himself to his full height, his manly, handsomecountenance illumined by the loftiest feeling--"I have imposed it uponmyself as a penance, if she said nothing, to confess it to you with myown lips. Write and tell her so; perhaps then she will think of me morekindly. It is the heaviest punishment to tell you; for, Princess Hilda,I revere you as I would a goddess, aye, the protecting goddess of ourpeople. The thought that you will now despise me is like death. But youshall know! I have--so I am told; I do not know, but it is doubtlesstrue--I have Eugenia--I did it while intoxicated, after drinking anocean of wine--but I did it! And I am not worthy ever to see her again.I have--"
"Not you, my beloved, it was the wine," cried an exultant voice, and aslender figure clung passionately yet shyly to his broad breast, and,while ardently embracing him with her right arm, she laid the littlefingers of her left hand upon his mouth to stay his words.
"Eugenia!" exclaimed the giant, flushing crimson. "You heard me? Youcan forgive? You still love me?"
"Unto death! Unto the grave! No, beyond death. I would seek you in thegrave if I lost you! With you, in life and in death! For I love you!"
"And that is eternal," said Hilda, passing her hand lightly over theyoung wife's hair. Then she floated out of the room, leaving the happylovers alone with their joy.
_BOOK TWO_
IN THE WAR