But suddenly all the sky above the city was flooded with a red light. A column of flame shot up into the air, and countless sparks descended. It seemed to rain fire from heaven. All Ravenna glowed in the crimson light. It was a fearful but beautiful spectacle. Both armies, ready to mingle in a hand-to-hand combat, halted and hesitated. "Fire! fire! Witichis, King Witichis!" shouted a horseman, who came galloping from the city; "it burns!" "We see it. Let it burn, Markja! First fight and then extinguish." "No, no, sire; all the granaries burn! The grain flies in myriads of sparks through the air." "The granaries are burning!" cried Goths and Byzantines. Witichis had no heart to ask questions. "The lightning must have kindled the interior long ago. It is quite burnt out. Look! look!" A stronger gust of wind fanned the fire, which flamed up higher than ever. The flames caught the nearest roofs, and, at the same time, the wooden ridge of the lofty building seemed to fall, for, after a heavy crash, the sparks shot up thicker than ever. It was a sea of fire. Witichis tried to lift his hand to give an order--but his arm fell, faint and powerless. Cethegus saw it. "Now!" he cried; "now let us assault!" "No; halt!" thundered Belisarius. "He who lifts his sword is the Emperor's enemy and dies! Back to the camp--all. Now Ravenna is mine! To-morrow it will fall without a struggle." His troops obeyed him and drew back. Cethegus was in a fury. He alone was too weak to oppose the order. He was obliged to yield. His plans were ruined. He had wished to take the city by storm in order--as he had done in Rome--to take possession of its principal defences. And he foresaw that it would be now delivered completely into the hand of Belisarius. He led his troops away in disgust. But the events which actually occurred afterwards, were very different to what either the Prefect or Belisarius had expected. CHAPTER XXI. The King had left the breach in the wall and the Tower of Ætius to the care of Hildebad, and hurried at once to the place of the conflagration. When he arrived he found the fire dying out--but merely for want of more combustibles. The whole contents of the magazines, together with the wooden walls and roofs, and everything that could burn, had been destroyed; not a remnant of corn nor a splinter of wood was left. The naked smoke and soot-blackened stone walls of the marble Circus alone still rose into the sky. Not a sign of its having been struck by lightning could be seen. The fire must have glimmered for some time after the lightning had kindled the woodwork, and spread slowly and unseen through the interior of the building; and when smoke and flame had burst through the apertures in the roof, it was too late to save the structure. The inhabitants had enough to do to save the neighbouring houses, of which many had already caught fire in various places.