And again from every basilica and every house rose Leo’s prayer—“Grant us the spirit to think and do always such things as be rightful, that we who cannot do anything that is good without Thee, may by Thee be enabled to live according to Thy Will.” Leo’s prayers were indeed fulfilled for him in the way his inmost soul desired. Of Leo personally scarcely a trace is left, as to the persons he loved, the life he lived, the death he died; his only monument, the rescue of his Rome, and the Rock of the great Apostle’s great confession of the Christ, on which he stood, and which he held for the Church. Sorely indeed were the strong words of consolation needed in the household on the Aventine. No further sound reached them from Aquileia, no record of individual heroism or deliverance. What voice indeed could come from ashes and a charnel-house? The fame of only one act seemed borne above that raging storm of murder and rapine; only one name was borne to them through the death-silence that succeeded. It was reported that the good and beautiful young matron Digna, the friend of their house and of Marius, had covered her head like a Roman matron of old, and from the tower on the walls adjoining her house had plunged into the glassy waters of the Natiso which flowed deep and strong below, to escape the insults of the Huns. When these tidings reached them, for the first time Damaris uttered a cry of despair. “Alas! alas!” she said, “too surely our Marius is slain, or he would have saved her.” But Fabricius shook his head. “Fond mother’s thought! Against such a flood of furious savagery Marius would have been as powerless as when he lay a babe in thine arms;” and then, with a flash of the old patrician fire, he added, “It is not Digna only, it is our old Rome, who chose death rather than dishonour at Aquileia; our Rome has fallen, she is dead, but never could she have perished save by suicide. Our vices have killed us. Yet she has fallen fighting to the last, not as a slave and captive, but as free and the mother of the free. The brave garrison of Aquileia could not save our Rome from ruin, but they have saved it from the worst dishonour; Digna stands for ever as a symbol of her great old glory. And Marius, thank God, our Marius was there!” But with those words the old man broke down; and the father and mother wept together. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XIX. LEO AND ATTILA—THE RESCUE OF ROME. Sadly and slowly after that the terrible days and weeks passed on. The great festivals of the Church were over. The daily festival of the perpetual Eucharist indeed went on with its ceaseless pleading of Redeeming death, and ceaseless participation of the ever-renewing Life, its blending of triumph and of tender tears, “Pretium et poculum,” for ever. And day and night in Ethne’s heart Patrick’s hymn still made melody— “Christ in the fort; Christ on the sea; Christ above, beneath, around, within, for ever.”