He was blind to all sights but his daughter's form, deaf to all
sounds but her voice; and he murmured as he looked vacantly forth upon
the wild view before him, 'Where is my child!--where is my child!'
'What is your child to me? What are the fortunes of affections of man
or woman, at such an hour as this?' cried the Pagan, as he stood by
Numerian, with features horribly animated by the emotions of fierce
delight and triumph that were raging within him at the prospect he
beheld. 'Dotard, look from this window! Listen to those voices! The
gods whom I serve, the god whom you and your worship would fain have
destroyed, have risen to avenge themselves at last! Behold those
suburbs, they are left desolate! Hear those cries--they are from Roman
lips! While your household's puny troubles have run their course, this
city of apostates has been doomed! In the world's annals this morning
will never be forgotten! THE GOTHS ARE AT THE GATES OF ROME!'
CHAPTER 8. THE GOTHS.
It was no false rumour that had driven the populace of the suburbs to
fly to the security of the city walls.
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