But into this torrent of words came Pulcheria’s calm voice again. “Nay, good Attila, and nay, my brother and my lord,” she said. “‘T were not between friends and allies to talk of tribute, nor of slaves, nor yet of hostage. Freely did’st thou come and as freely shalt thou go; and let this pledge tell of friendship between Theodosius the emperor and Ruas the king.” And, with a step forward, she flung her own broad chain of gold around the stout and swarthy neck of the defiant young Attila. So, through a girl’s ready tact and quiet speech, was the terror of barbarian invasion averted. Ruas the Hun rested content for years with his annual salary of three hundred and fifty pounds of gold, or over seventy thousand dollars, and his title of General of the Empire; while not for twenty years did the hot-headed young Attila make good his threat against the Roman power. Anthemius the prefect, like the wise man he was, recognized the worth of the young Princess Pulcheria; he saw how great was her influence over her brother the emperor, and noted with astonishment and pleasure her words of wisdom and her rare common-sense. “Rule thou in my place, O Princess!” he said, soon after this interview with the barbarian envoys. “Thou alone, of all in this broad empire, art best fitted to take lead and direction in the duties of its governing.” Pulcheria, though a wise young girl, was prudent and conscientious. “Such high authority is not for a girl like me, good Anthemius,” she replied. “Rather let me shape the ways and the growth of the emperor my brother, and teach him how best to maintain himself in a deportment befitting his high estate, so that he may become a wise and just ruler; but do thou bear sway for him until such time as he may take the guidance on himself.” “Nay, not so, Princess,” the old prefect said. “She who can shape the ways of a boy may guide the will of an empire. Be thou, then, Regent and Augusta, and rule this empire as becometh the daughter of Arcadius and the granddaughter of the great Theodosius.” And as he desired, so it was decided. The Senate of the East decreed it and, in long procession, over flower-strewn pavements and through gorgeously decorated streets, with the trumpets sounding their loudest, with swaying standards, and rank upon rank of imperial troops, with great officers of the government and throngs of palace attendants, this young girl of sixteen, on the fourth day of July, in the year 414, proceeded to the Church of the Holy Apostles, and was there publicly proclaimed Pulcheria Augusta, Regent of the East, solemnly accepting the trust as a sacred and patriotic duty.