And as he listened, the mighty host of the barbarians, and the little company of the besieged, seemed to dwindle into a mere ship’s company on a stormy sea, whilst all around him were the open heavens with their victorious multitudes before the Throne. Whatever the result of this present conflict might be, the victory along the whole line was sure, the victory of good, of God, of the Lamb that was slain, of the Redeeming Lord conquering and to conquer. With a heart full of peace and courage he knelt at the close of the service, when the aged, white-haired Bishop, shepherd and father of the people, came forward and raised his hand in benediction. He lingered some time in the silence after the voices ceased, when a gentle hand was laid on his shoulder, and looking up he saw the radiant face of his sister, and the soft grey eyes, luminous with the joy and trust within. Then together they left the church and returned to Eleazar’s rooms. “The church is never shut day nor night,” she said; “every hour without ceasing prayers go up to God to relieve the city.” “The succour ought to be here soon indeed,” said Baithene, “if the city is to be saved.” After that the brother and sister had little opportunity of speaking to each other for many weeks. Baithene was on the ramparts; whilst Ethne was with another army of succour organized by the Bishop within the city—a band of devoted women who took the wounded into places of shelter, dressed their wounds, and did all they could to relieve the starvation and misery all around. All these weeks the terrible struggle went on, by assault, blockade, starvation. The battering-rams were drawn up to the walls; but these in the untrained hands of the Huns were more than matched by the catapults and fiery missiles thrown by the trained soldiers of the Roman garrison. It was the arrows of the Huns, shot with unerring aim from their huge bows, which did the deadliest damage, clearing the walls of the defenders, as they fell one by one smitten to death. It was at the risk of life that the Bishop and his clergy came up on the ramparts, with chant of litanies, and bearing sacred relics, to reanimate the garrison. More than five weeks had passed since Bishop Anianus had seen the General Aetius in the palace at Arles, and obtained a promise of speedy succour. The fourteenth of June, the day he promised at the latest to bring the relieving forces, was fast approaching, and the courage and hope of the besieged were failing. Not a few began to murmur against the Bishop, and to hint that he had deceived them with promises of imaginary succour. About the tenth or eleventh of June the bright sunshine was clouded over by a fearful storm. For three days the thunder rolled, the lightning flashed, heavy clouds darkened all the land, a tempest of rain and hail poured down, the battle of the elements giving a respite for the time to the battle with the barbarian host.