e hands
of brave men to conquer the whole globe; Roman helmets with proudly
curved crests, German boar and buffalo helmets, Moorish shields covered
with panther skins, Moorish fillets with waving ostrich plumes,
breastplates of crocodile skin,--who can enumerate the motley variety?
But at the right of Belisarius, with their hands bound behind their
backs, stood the prisoners of the highest rank, men, and also many
women, beautiful in face and figure,--the whole picture, however, was
inclosed, as though in an iron frame, by our squadrons of horsemen and
the dense ranks of our foot-soldiers. How the horses neighed; how the
plumes in the helmets waved; how the metal clanked and glittered with
dazzling brightness! A magnificent spectacle which must fill with
rapture the heart of every man who did not view it as a captive. Behind
our warriors crowded eagerly the populace of Carthage, taught by many a
blow with the handle of a spear that it had nothing to say, and bore no
part in this celebration of its own and Africa's deliverance.

Our little procession stopped within the vaulted gateway, awaiting a
preconcerted signal. A tuba blared; Fara and I, followed by some
subordinate officers and thirty Herulians, rode into the square to
Belisarius's throne. He commanded us to dismount, rose, embraced and
kissed Fara, and hung around his neck a large gold disk,--the prize of
victory for bringing as prisoner a crowned King. Then he pressed my
hand and asked me to accompany him in all future campaigns. This is the
highest reward I could receive, for I love this man who has the courage
of a lion and the heart of a boy!

At a signal we took our places on the right and left of the throne. Two
blasts of the tuba. Clad in the richest vestments of the Catholic
priesthood,--I noticed that even the narrow Arian tonsure had been
changed to the broader Catholic one,--Verus came from the gateway into
the square, his figure drawn up to its full height, his head thrown
back proudly. He was evidently thinking: "But for me you would not be
here, you arrogant soldiers." Yet that is by no means true; we really
should have conquered without him, though more slowly, with more
difficulty. And in the degree to which it was correct--just so far it
irritated my friend Belisarius. His brow contracted, and he scanned the
approaching priest with a look of contempt which the latter could not
endure. When he bowed he lowered his lashes--arrogantly enough. "I ha