The Gothic woman stretched out her hand, but the prostrate form sprang up at her touch, and, with a scream, disappeared into the darkness. All this had passed rapidly, and seemed like some frightful dream, but a broad gold bracelet, ornamented with a green serpent in emeralds, remained in the Gothic woman's hand, a proof of the reality of the mysterious vision. And again the iron steps of the Gothic patrol approached. "Hildebad, Hildebad, help!" cried Wisand. "I am here! What is the matter? Where shall I go?" asked Hildebad, advancing with his men. "To the Gate of Honorius! The wall has fallen, and the tower of Ætius lies in ruins. Help! Into the breach!" "I come! Poor, poor Fridugern!" Outside, in the camp of the Byzantines, Cethegus the Prefect rushed into Belisarius's tent. He was in full armour, his plume of crimson horsehair tossed upon his helm. His bearing was proud. His eyes flashed. "Up! Why do you linger, Belisarius? The walls of your enemy's citadel fall of themselves! The last refuge of the last King of the Goths lies open before you! Why do you remain in your tent?" "I adore the Almighty," said Belisarius with composure. Antonina stood near him, her arm about his neck. A praying-stool and a tall crucifix showed in what occupation the stormy entrance of the Prefect had disturbed them. "Do that to-morrow, after the victory. But now, storm the city!" "Storm the city now?" cried Antonina. "What sacrilege! The earth is shaken to its foundations, for God the Lord speaks in this elemental strife!" "Let Him speak! We will act. Belisarius, the tower of Ætius and a portion of the walls have fallen. I ask you, will you not storm the city?" "He is not wrong," said Belisarius, in whom the lust of battle was awakening. "But it is a dark night----" "To victory and the heart of Ravenna I will find my way even in the dark. And it lightens besides." "You are all at once very eager for the fight," said Belisarius hesitatingly. "Yes, for there is good reason. The barbarians are startled. They fear God and forget their enemies." At this moment Procopius and Marcus Licinius hurried into the tent together. "Belisarius," cried the first, "the earthquake has thrown down the barracks by the northern trench, and has buried half a cohort of your Illyrians!" "My poor people!" cried Belisarius, and at once left the tent. "Cethegus," said Marcus, "one of your cohorts also lies buried under their barracks." But, impatiently shaking his head, the Prefect asked: "How is the water in the Gothic moat before the tower of Ætius? Has not the earthquake lessened it?" "Yes, the water has disappeared--the moat is quite dry. Hark, what a cry! It is your Illyrians! They cry for help!" "Let them cry!" said Cethegus. "Is the moat really dry? Then give the signal to storm. Follow me with all the Isaurians that are still alive."