Felicitas: A Tale of the German Migrations: A.D. 476Dahn, Felix
History
Felicitas: A Tale of the German Migrations: A.D. 476
Dahn, Felix
Migrations of nations -- Fiction; Salzburg (Austria : Land) -- History -- Fiction
The Greek exchanged a quick look with the Judge; he then, with the
reverse end of the style, rubbed the tablet smooth, effacing the
writing, turned the style and wrote:
"The priest alone knows that she was set free. On Sunday he denounces
thee publicly. Dead dogs do not bark."
"Take that to thy Tribune," said he to the centurion.
"I cannot. I go on guard at the Vindelician gate. But here, Arsakes, go
back to the Capitol."
He gave the tablet to one of the soldiers, who saluted and disappeared.
"At the Vindelician gate? Wait, then!" And Zeno whispered a word to the
Judge.
"Halt, centurion!" cried the latter, "My Carcerarii are not within
call; in case of necessity I can exercise authority over you warriors,
according to the law of the Emperor Diocletian. Seize that debtor of
the state, whose escape is suspected, and take him to the prison for
tax-debtors; it stands by the Vindelician gate."
Fulvius was in a moment surrounded; the centurion laid hold of his
shoulder, four men seized his arms.
"Oh, Felicitas!" sighed he, utterly helpless.
"I will save her! I will go to her immediately!" cried Crispus, and he
hastened away.
He was about to turn the comer, when there sounded suddenly the
hoof-strokes of a horseman riding along in mad haste, followed by a
tumultuous crowd: soldiers, burghers, women, children--all pell-mell.
"One of our Moorish horsemen!" cried the centurion, as he caught the
horse's bridle. "Jarbas! Comrade in arms! What is the matter?"
The rider, who was dripping with water, raised himself high in the
saddle; he had lost helmet and shield, he held a broken spear in his
right hand, blood streamed over his naked left arm.
"Tell the Tribune," cried he in a hoarse voice, as if making a last
effort. "I can do no more--the arrow in my neck--they are there--close
the gates--the Germans stand before the town!" And dropping the bridle,
he fell backwards from his horse.
He was dead!
CHAPTER VI.
Was it actually so? Did the Germans stand indeed before the gates of
Juvavum?
The burghers racked their brains in tormenting uncertainty. They could
learn nothing more at present of what had happened without the walls;
the mouth that might have given farther information was silent for
ever.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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