Along these now useless bulwarks of the fallen city she wanders,
as she has often wandered before, watching anxiously for the first
opening of the long-closed gates. Let us follow her on her way.
Her attention was now fixed only on the broad ramparts, while she passed
slowly along the Gothic tents towards the encampment at the Pincian
Gate. Arrived there, she was aroused for the first time from her apathy
by an unwonted stir and confusion prevailing around her. She looked
towards the tent of Alaric, and beheld before it the wasted and
crouching forms of the followers of the embassy awaiting their sentence
from the captain of the Northern hosts. In a few moments she gathered
enough from the words of the Goths congregated about this part of the
camp to assure her that it was the Pincian Gate which had given egress
to the Roman suppliants, and which would therefore, in all probability,
be the entrance again thrown open to admit their return to the city.
Remembering this, she began to calculate the numbers of the conquered
enemy grouped together before the king's tent, and then mentally added
to them those who might be present at the interview proceeding within--
mechanically withdrawing herself, while thus occupied, nearer and nearer
to the waste ground before the city walls.
Pages:
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697