The King and his brothers now dismounted from their horses, to hold another short council and to drink the wine which Hilda herself offered to them. Just at that moment, as Gelimer gave back the harp to Hilda, a strange figure pressed through the dispersing ranks; the King and the Princes gazed at it in astonishment. A tall man clad from head to ankles in a gown of camel's hair, fastened around the loins, not by a rope, but by a girdle of thick braided strands of a woman's light-brown tresses; no sandals protected the bare feet, no covering the closely shaven head. The cheeks were sunken; glowing eyes sparkled from deep sockets. Throwing himself before the King, he raised both hands imploringly. "By Heaven! I know you, man," said Gelimer. "Yes," cried Gibamund, "it is--" "Thrasabad, Thrasaric's brother," added Zazo. "The vanished nobleman whom we have long believed dead," said Hilda, with a timid glance at him, drawing nearer. "Yes, Thrasabad," replied a hollow voice, "the miserable Thrasabad. I am a murderer, her murderer. King, judge me!" Gelimer bent forward, took his right hand, and raised him. "Not the Greek girl's murderer. I have heard the whole story from your brother." "No matter; her blood rests on my soul. I felt that as I saw it flow. Lifting the beautiful body on a horse that very night, I dashed away with it from the eyes of men. Away, always deeper into the desert, till the horse fell. Then, with these hands, I buried her in a sand ravine not far from here. Her wonderfully beautiful hair I cut off; how often I have stroked and caressed it! And I prayed and did penance ceaselessly beside her grave. Pious desert monks found me there, watching and fasting, almost dead. And I confessed to them my heavy sin. They promised God's forgiveness if, as one of their brotherhood, I would do penance beside that grave forever. I took the vows. They gave me the dress of their order; I wound Glauke's hair around it to remind me always of my sin; and they brought me food in the lonely ravine. But since I heard of the day of Decimum and my brother's death; since the decisive conflict drew nearer and nearer; since you and the enemy pitched your camp close beside my hiding-place; since, two days ago, I heard the war horns of my people,--I have had no peace in my idle praying! Once I wielded the sword not badly. My whole heart yearned to follow once more, for the last time, the call of the battle trumpets. Alas! I dared not; I knew I was not worthy. But last night, in a dream, _she_ appeared to me,--her human beauty transfigured into an angel's radiant loveliness, no longer any trace of earth about her; and she said: 'Go to your brothers-in-arms, ask for a sword, and fight and fall for your people. That will be the best atonement.' Oh, believe me, my King! I do not lie with the name of that saint on my lips. If you can forgive me for her sake--oh, let me--"