Woe to thee, O Vandal race!
Soon forgot, will be thy name,
Which the world, a tempest, swept.

"Gloriously didst thou arise
From the sea,--a meteor.
Fame and radiance lost for aye,
Thou wilt sink in blackest night.

"All the earth's rich treasures heaped
Genseric in Carthage fair.
Starving beggar with the foe,
Now for bread his grandson pleads.

"Let thy heroes strengthen me;
God's wrath on thee resteth sore;
Leave fame and honor to the Goths,
To the Franks:--they are but toys."

"I will not listen; I will not bear it," cried Hilda. "He shall not
revile all that makes life worth living."

Nearer, more distinctly, sounded the slow, mournful notes.

"Vanity and sin are all
Thou hast cherished, Vandal race;
Therefore God hath stricken thee,
Therefore bowed thy head in shame.

"Bow thee, bow thee to the dust,
Bruised race of Genseric;
Kiss the rod in gratitude.
It is God the Lord Who smites."

The dirge died away. The royal singer ascended with tottering steps the
half-ruined stairs of the basilica, his harp hanging loosely from his
left arm. Now he stood between the gray, mouldering pillars of the
entrance, and, laying his right arm against the cold stone, pressed his
weary head upon it.

Just at that moment a young Moor came hurrying up the steps; a few
bounds brought him to the top. Gibamund and Hilda went toward him in
astonishment.

"It is long since I have seen you move so swiftly, Sersaon," said
Gibamund.

"Your eyes are sparkling," cried Hilda. "You bring good tidings."

The King raised his head from the pillar and, shaking it sorrowfully,
looked at the Moor.

"Yes, wise Queen," replied the latter. "The best of tidings: Rescue!"

"Impossible!" said Gelimer, in a hollow tone.

"It is true, my master. Here, Verus will confirm it."

With a slow step, but unbroken strength, the priest ascended the
mountain-top. He seemed rather to be prouder, more powerful than in the
days of happiness; he held his head haughtily erect. In his hand he
carried an arrow and a strip of papyrus.

"To-night," the young Moor went on, "I had the watch at our farthest
point toward the south. At the earliest glimmer of dawn, I heard the
call of the ostrich: