Ch. 11 - Goisvintha's Return - Page 2

smiled, as if in welcome
to the greeting of the light; her eyes slightly opened, then dazzled by
the brightness that flowed through their raised lids, tremblingly closed
again. At length thoroughly awakened, she shaded her face with her
hands, and sitting up on the couch, met the gaze of Hermanric fixed on
her in sorrowful examination.

'Your bright armour, and your glorious name, and your merciful words,
have remained with me even in my sleep,' said she, wonderingly; 'and
now, when I awake, I see you before me again! It is a happiness to be
aroused by the sun which has gladdened me all my life, to look upon you
who have given me shelter in my distress! But why,' she continued, in
altered and enquiring tones, 'why do you gaze upon me with doubting and
mournful eyes?'

'You have slept well and safely,' said Hermanric, evasively, 'I closed
the opening of the tent to preserve you from the night-damps, but I have
raised it now, for the air is warming under the rising sun--'

'Are you wearied with watching?' she interrupted, rising to her feet,
and looking anxiously into his face. But he spoke not in reply. His
head was turned towards the door of the tent. He seemed to be listening
for some expected sound. It was evident that he had not heard her
question. She followed the direction of his eyes. The sight of the
great city, half brightened, half darkened, as its myriad buildings
reflected the light of the sun, or retained the shadows of the clouds,
brought back to her remembrance her last night's petition for her
father's safety. She laid her hand upon her companion's arm to awaken
his attention, and hastily resumed:--

'You have not forgotten what I said to you last night? My father's name
is Numerian. He lives on the Pincian Mount. You will save him,
Hermanric--you will save him! You will remember your promise!'

The young warrior's eyes fell as she spoke, and an irrepressible shudder
shook his whole frame. The last part of Antonina's address to him, was
expressed in the same terms as a past appeal from other lips, and in
other accents, which still clung to his memory. The same demand,
'Remember your promise,' which had been advanced to urge him to
bloodshed, by Goisvintha, was now proffered by Antonina, to lure him to
pity. The petition of affection was concluded in the same terms as the
petition of revenge. As he thought on both, the human pity of the one,
and the fiend-like cruelty of the other, rose in sinister and
significant contrast on the mind of the Goth, realising in all its
perils the struggle that was to come when Goisvintha returned, and
dispelling instantaneously the last hopes that he had yet ventured to
cherish for the fugitive at his side.

'No assault of the city