“I think we had better set the house on fire; the tall one is strong.” “And they thought we did not understand their language.” The two prisoners, whose consciences were uneasy, were alarmed, and believed that their end was near. Then a small trap-door opened in the wall, and the fool Hamilcar showed his hideous head. “Whether you are the devil or not,” exclaimed the Roman, “answer us some questions.” “Speak, sirs,” said the negro. “Are we prisoners, or why cannot we see your King?” Prince Ellak’s head appeared at the trap-door. “You will first see the King this evening at the feast,” said the Prince, with a malicious grimace. “Are we to fast till then?” “We call it so, and do it always when we have a feast before us, in order to be able to eat more.” “Cannot we at any rate go out?” “No,” answered the Prince with the horse-dealerlike face. “One must conform to the custom of the country.” So saying, he closed the trap-door. “Do you think we shall get away alive?” asked Edeko. “Who knows? Attila is composed of treachery. You do not know that once he wrote two letters, one to Dieterich, King of the West Goths, asking for an alliance against the Romans as the common enemy; and on the same day he wrote a similar letter to the Romans, in which he proposed an alliance against the West Goths. The deceit was discovered, and Attila fell between two stools.” “He seems to be immortal, otherwise he would have been killed in battle, as he always goes at the head of his army.” Until evening the travelling companions remained incarcerated. At last the door was opened, and a master of the ceremonies led them into the hall where the great feast was to take place. Here there were countless seats and tables covered with the most costly cloths and drinking vessels of gold and silver. The guests were assembled, but the two travellers saw no faces that they knew; they looked in vain for the bridegroom and the bride. As they were conducted to their places, a low murmur broke out among the guests, who talked in an undertone, and asked where the great King would show himself. Orestes and Edeko cast their eyes over the walls and ceiling without being able to see where the wonder would happen, for the childish and cunning Huns used to amuse their guests with surprises and practical jokes. Suddenly the whole assembly stood up. The curtain which covered the wall in the background was drawn aside, and on a platform sat a little insignificant-looking man, with a table before him and a sofa beside him. On the table stood a wooden goblet. He sat quite motionless, without even moving his eyelids. Somewhat lower than he stood his chief Minister, the Greek Onegesius. He kept his eyes unwaveringly fixed on his master, who seemed to be able to converse with him through his eyes. Attila remained in the same attitude, his legs crossed, and his right hand on the table. He gave no greeting, neither did he answer any.