The King of the Goths had chosen for himself a position far back in the middle of the wide semicircle which his army had drawn around the city to the west. He had stationed himself upon the "field of Nero," on the right bank of the Tiber, between the Pancratian (old Aurelian) and the (new) Aurelian Gates, a post usually occupied by Earl Markja, of Mediolanum. Witichis founded his plan upon the fact that the general storming of all the gates would necessarily disperse the forces of the besieged; and as soon as some part of the ramparts should be more than usually exposed by the withdrawal of its defenders, he intended to make use of the circumstance, and attack at that point. With this view, he had quietly remained immovable far behind the storming columns. He had given orders to his leaders to call him at once should a gap in the line of defence be observed. He had waited long--very long. He had had to bear many a word of impatience from his troops, who were forced to remain idle while their comrades were advancing on all sides. Long, long they waited for a messenger to call them into action. At last the King himself was the first to notice that the well-known flags and the thickly-crowded spears of the Isaurians had disappeared from the outer wall of the Mausoleum. He observed the place attentively. The Isaurians could not have been relieved, for the gaps were not filled up. Then he sprang from his saddle, gave his horse a stroke with the flat of his hand, and cried, "Home, Boreas!" The clever animal galloped straight back to the camp. "Now forward, my Goths! forward, Earl Markja!" cried the King. "Over the river there! Leave the wall-breakers behind: take only shields and storming-ladders, and the axes. Forward!" And at a run he reached the steep bank at the southern bend of the river, and descended the hill. "No bridge. King, and no ford!" asked a Goth behind him. "No, friend Iffamer; we must swim!" And the King sprang into the dirty yellow water, which splashed, hissing, high above his helmet. In a few moments he had reached the opposite bank, the foremost of his people with him. Soon they stood close before the lofty outer wall of the Mausoleum, and the warriors looked up inquiringly and anxiously. "Bring the ladders!" cried Witichis. "Do you not see? There are no defenders! Are you afraid of mere stones?" The ladders were quickly raised, and the outer wall scaled. The few soldiers who had remained to defend this wall were overcome, the ladders drawn up and let down on the inner side. The King was the first in the court. There, it is true, the progress of the Goths was for a time arrested. For Quintus Piso and Kallistratos stood on the ramparts of the inner wall, with a hundred legionaries and a few Isaurians. They had hastened thither from the Pancratian Gate. They hurled a thick hail of spears and arrows at the Goths as they descended singly into the court. Their catapults were also not without effect.