I shall drink to-
morrow with the best men in the army, Hun though I am!'
He returned to his seat as he ceased, and began beating in monotonous
measure, with one of his pieces of money on the blade of his sword, some
chorus of a favourite drinking song; while Goisvintha, standing pale and
breathless near the door of the chamber, looked down on him with fixed,
vacant eyes. At length a deep sigh broke from her; her hands
involuntarily clenched themselves at her side; her lips moved with a
bitter smile; then, without addressing another word to the Hun, she
turned, and softly and stealthily quitted the room.
The instant she was gone, a sudden change arose in the barbarian's
manner. He started from his seat, a scowl of savage hatred and triumph
appeared on his shaggy brows, and he paced to and fro through the
chamber like a wild beast in his cage. 'I shall tear him from the
pinnacle of his power at last!' he whispered fiercely to himself. 'For
what I have told her this night, his kinswoman will hate him--I knew it
while she spoke! For his desertion of his post, Alaric may dishonour
him, may banish him, may hang him! His fate is at my mercy; I shall rid
myself nobly of him and his command! More than all the rest of his
nation I loathe this Goth! I will be by when they drag him to the tree,
and taunt him with his shame, as he has taunted me with my deformity.
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