erything was still, did I succeed in raising myself a little. So
I was found beside Ammata by the King, to whom I told the fate of both.
The rest--how he lost the moment of victory, nay, threw away the
victory already won, you know."

"We know it," said Hilda, in a hollow tone.

"And where is Ammata--where is Thrasaric buried?" questioned Gibamund.

"Close beside Decimum, in two mounds. The land belongs to a colonist.
According to the custom of our ancestors, our men placed three spears
upright upon each hillock. The King's horsemen then carried me back,
and placed me on a charger, which bore me through this pitiable flight.
Shame on this Vandal people! They let their princes and nobles fight
and bleed--alone! The masses have accomplished nothing but a speedy
flight."

CHAPTER VIII

The intense darkness of the night was already yielding in the eastern
sky to a faint gray glimmer of twilight, but the stars were still
shining in the heavens, when a slender little figure glided
noiselessly, but very swiftly, through the streets of the camp.

The shaggy dogs watching their masters' tents growled, but did not
bark; they were afraid of the creature slipping by so softly. A Vandal,
mounting guard at a street-corner, superstitiously made the sign of the
cross and avoided the wraith floating past. But the white form
approached him.

"Where is Decimum? I mean, in which direction?" it asked in low,
hurried tones.

"In the east, yonder." He pointed with his spear.

"How far is it?"

"How far? Very distant. We rode as fast as the horses could run; for
fear pursued us,--I really do not know of what,--and we did not draw
rein till we reached here. We dashed along six or eight hours before we
arrived."

"No matter."

The hurrying figure soon reached the exit of the camp. The guards
stationed there let her pass unmolested. One called after her:

"Where are you going? Not that way! The enemy is there."

"Don't stay long!" a Moor shouted after her; "the evil wind is rising."

But she was already gone. Directly behind the camp she turned from the
path marked by many footprints, also by weapons lost or thrown
away,--if that name could be given to this track through the desert.
Running several hundred paces south of the line extending from west to
east, she plunged into the wilderness, crossing, meanwhile, several
high, dome-like sand-hills. These mounds are piled up by the changing
winds