"The hero blood shows itself in the heat of battle. He is rising. Do you see how his helmet--now he is putting it on again--is hacked by fresh blows? One of the two black vulture wings on the crest is cut through. The strangest thing is,--this warrior is also a bookworm, a delver into mystic lore; he has attended the lectures of Athenian philosophers. He is a theologian and--" "A player on the lyre, too, apparently! See, a Vandal has handed him a small one." "That is a harp, as they call it." "Hark, he is touching the strings! He is singing. I can't understand." "It is the Vandal tongue." "He has finished. How his Germans shout! They are striking their spears on their shields. Now he is descending the steps. What? Without entering the church, as the others did?" "Yes, I remember! He vowed, when he shed blood, to shun the saint's threshold for three days. Now the horsemen are all mounting again." "But where are the foot soldiers?" "Yes, that is bad--I mean for the Vandals. They have none, or scarcely any: they have grown not only so proud, but so effeminate and lazy that they disdain to serve on foot. Only the very poorest and lowest of the population will do it. Most of the foot soldiers are Moorish mercenaries, obtained for each campaign from friendly tribes." "Ah, yes, I see Moors among the soldiers." "Those are men from the Papua mountain. They plundered our frontiers for a long time. Gelimer attacked their camp and captured their chief Antalla's three daughters, whom he returned unharmed, without ransom. Then Antalla invited the Asding to his tent to thank him; they concluded a friendship of hospitality,--the most sacred bond to the Moors,--and since then they have rendered faithful service even against other Moors. The parade is over. See, the ranks are breaking. The leaders are going to the Capitol to convey to King Hilderic the report of the campaign and the booty. Look, the crowd is dispersing. Let us go too. Come back to my house; Eugenia is waiting to serve the evening meal. Come, Hegelochus." "I am ready, most friendly host. I fear I may burden you a long time. Business with the corn-dealers is slow." "Why are you stopping? What are you looking at?" "I'm coming. Only I must see this Gelimer's face once more. I shall never forget those features, and all the strange, contradictory things which you have told me about him." "That is the way with most people. He is mysterious, incomprehensible,--'daimonios,' as the Greeks say. Let us go now! Here! To the left--down the steps." CHAPTER III