Felicitas: A Tale of the German Migrations: A.D. 476
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When the last footstep had long died away, the marble slab wascarefully raised; the Tribune climbed out. The man so brave, so fond ofwar, had suffered the bitterest torments of humiliation during thislong time. Was he not a Roman, and did he not know his duty? It stunghis honour as a soldier that he, blindly following his own passions,pursuing only his _own_ object, had made the victory so easy for thebarbarians. His looks were sullen; he bit his lips. "My cavalry! theCapitol! Juvavum! vengeance on the priest! victory! all is lost--exceptFelicitas! I will fetch her; and away, away with her over theAlps!--Where may my Pluto be?"
Leo crept through the priest's house into the narrow street, andcarefully sought the shadow of the houses. It was beginning to getdark, so long had the drinking bout above his head detained him aprisoner. Like a slinking beast of prey, stooping at every corner, andwith a spring quickly gaining the side of the opposite street, heavoided the large open squares and crowded streets. He then heard, inthe distance, the roaring noise of confused voices. He looked back;flames were rising into the heavens, already darkened with smoke.
The Tribune hastened to gain the north side of the ramparts; to findthe Porta Vindelica unoccupied he could not hope, even from Germanrecklessness; but he knew the secret mechanism by which, without key, asmall sortie-gate could be opened which led into the high road toVindelicia. This doorway he now endeavoured to reach. Unchallenged,unseen, he mounted the wall, avoiding the steps; opened the door;closed it again carefully; slid down the steep slope, and gained themoat, which, formerly filled with water, had now--the sluices were alldestroyed--lain dry for tens of years. Weeds and bushes above a man'sheight grew therein.
He had hardly reached the bottom of the moat when a loud neighinggreeted him out of a willow-plot; his faithful horse trotted towardshim, nodding its head.
Two other horses answered out of the bushes.
Immediately afterwards two men crept out of the thicket, crawling alongthe ground on all-fours. It was Himilco the centurion, and anotherMoor.
They beckoned to him silently to follow them into the hiding-place.They had escaped into the moat after the dispersion of their troops bythe Bajuvaren. The black steed had followed the two other horses, theman in charge of him having fallen.
Since then they had remained hidden among the thick bushes of the moat.
"The first gleam of light on this black day," said the Tribune. "Wethree will fly! Come! There to the left the river approaches the moat.The horses can easily reach it with a leap, and then swim across. Imust go to the Mercurius hill, down the Vindelician road; then--overthe mountains!"
"Sir," implored Himilco, "wait till night. Twice already have we triedto escape by that way. Each time we were observed by the Alemannianhorsemen, who incessantly march before the gates to seize fugitives;each time it was only with the greatest difficulty that we regained ourshelter. Only in the darkness of the night can we venture."
The Tribune was reluctantly obliged to acknowledge this counsel aswell-grounded. "At night," said he to himself, "I shall be better ableto carry off Felicitas." So, impatient enough, he determined to awaitthe darkness in this hiding-place.