"How strong is your army in horsemen?" "Go and count them." "Friend Hun," said Thrasaric, in a threatening tone, "a king is speaking to you. Behave civilly, little wolf. Answer politely the questions you are asked, or--" The prisoner glanced defiantly toward Gelimer, saying, "This gold disk was given to me by the great General with his own hands after our third victory over the Persians. Do you think I would betray Belisarius?" "Lead him away," said Gelimer, waving his hand. "Bind up his wound. Treat him kindly." The Hun cast another glance of mortal hate at Ammata, then he followed his guards. Gelimer again looked at the parchment. "I thank you, my boy," he said, "I thank you. You have indeed brought us no trivial thing, the order of the enemy's march to-day. Follow me to my tent, my generals; there you shall hear my plan of attack. We need not wait for the arrival of the Moors. I think, if the Lord is not wrathful with us--but let us have no sinful arrogance--Oh, Ammata, how I rejoice to have you again alive! After your departure I had a terrible dream about you. God has restored you to me once--I will not tempt Him a second time." Going close to the boy and laying his hand on his shoulder, he said in his sternest tone: "Listen; I forbid you to fight in the battle to-day." "What?" cried Ammata, furiously, turning deadly pale. "That is impossible! Gelimer, I beseech--" "Silence," said the King, frowning, "and obey." "Why," cried Gibamund; "I should think you might let him go. He has shown--" "Oh, brother, brother," exclaimed Ammata, tears streaming from his eyes, "how have I deserved this punishment?" "Is this his reward for to-night's deed?" warned Thrasaric. "Silence, all of you," Gelimer commanded sternly. "It is decided. He shall _not_ fight with us. He is still a boy." Ammata stamped his foot angrily. "And oh, my darling," Gelimer added, clasping the vehemently resisting lad in his arms, "let me confess it. I love you so tenderly, with such undue affection, that anxiety for you would not leave me for a single instant during the battle, and I need all my thoughts for the foe." "Then let me fight by your side; protect me yourself!" "I dare not. I dare not think of you. I must think of Belisarius." "Indeed, I pity him from my inmost soul," cried Hilda, in passionate excitement. "I am a woman, and it is hard enough for me not to go with you: but a boy of fifteen!" Eugenia timidly pulled her back by the robe, stroking and kissing her hand; but Hilda, smoothing the boy's golden locks, went on: "It is a duty, it is a patriotic duty, that every man who can--especially a son of the royal house--should fight for his people. This lad can fight; he has proved it. So do not refuse him to his people. My ancestor taught me that only he who is to fall will fall." "Sinful paganism!" exclaimed the King, wrathfully.